Fatão

L’amic Biel Massot em va convidar dimecres passat a compartir tres quarts d’hora amb ell i els oients de Ràdio Marratxí (92.9 FM). El programa Amb P de Pòrtula –en el qual particip amb una col·laboració mensual dedicada a temes de Comunicació– s’emet cada dimecres de 17 a 20 h, i es repeteix cada diumenge dematí de 7 a 10. El leitmotiv (ui, que sona d’antic això) de l’audició comentada era l’AMISTAT; sobre ella, les amigues i els amics, divagàrem al voltant d’un parell (mallorquí) de cançons. Va ser una estona molt, molt agradable perquè estàvem… entre amics. N’hi ha qualcunes a Youtube (d’altres no… llàstima), i m’ha semblat divertit posar-les per aquí. Esper que a voltros també vos agradin.  

1.- “Carta a un amic” –  Maria del Mar Bonet

     “Per altres sé de tu / i molt poques vegades / cau aquell tel / que tot ho fa confús”. Conec poques cançons que comencin així, així de bé. És un tema original de Mª del Mar Bonet del disc Anells d’aigua (1985), editat com a fruit del seu interès per la música del nord d’Àfrica. En ell comptà amb la col·laboració de l’Ensemble de Musique Traditionelle de Tunis, amb el qual realitzà una gira per Espanya i França i, posteriorment, mantengué una presència continuada als escenaris al llarg de molts anys. Un disc ben redó (“redó com tots” digué en Biel, però ja m’enteneu), amb cançons que queden en el record (ja fa quasi 25 anys!) com ”Els boscos del pensament”, “El salt de la Bella Dona”, “Ànima morta”, i aquesta “Dansa de la primavera”,…

2.- “Els amics que se’n van” –  Anegats

     Anegats és un grup mallorquí nascut a Son Servera (1994) que es caracteritza per l’èxit entre la gent jove de les seves cançons, més o menys divertides, que parlen de l’amistat, l’amor i les arrels de l’illa. Cinc amics de colla varen decidir omplir el temps lliure amb una banda: varen comprar instruments, anaren a classes de guitarra i varen convèncer un d’ells, en Jaume, perquè se compràs una bateria i aprengués a fer-la sonar. El 2009 han tret el 4t disc: “Paraules” sempre amb Blau/Disc Medi. De la 1ª època sobreviuen temes com “I ara què“, “Vell marí” o “Els amics que se’n van“, vinculats a l’edat que tenien aleshores, 15 anys.

3.- “Tens un amic” – Gossos 

     El grup Gossos, un dels més populars del rock català, ha destacat per la seva música totalment acústica, només amb guitarres i baix, sense percusions fins el 2002, any en què va iniciar una electrificació del seu so que ha arribat a la maduresa el 2008 amb el disc en directe ‘A l’Auditori’. “Tens un amic” és una versió en català de “You’ve got a friend”, de Carole King (popular cantant i compositora nordamericana a qui Neil Sedaka dedicà als anys ’60 la famosa “Oh Carol”). La versió de Gossos va ser utilitzada el desembre del 2006 per a promocionar La Marató de TV3 dedicada al dolor crònic. “Si et sents trist i emboirat i necessites una mà / si les coses no et roden bé / tanca els ulls i pensa amb mi / que prest jo seré aquí…”. Una cançó que també havia versionat la marratxinera Marisa Rojas.

4.- “Per al meu amic” – Joan Manuel Serrat   

     Joan Manuel Serrat publicà el 1973 l’àlbum “Per al meu amic” que alguns crítics consideren un dels més aconseguits de la seva carrera. Inclou temes ben coneguts com “Helena”, cançó d’enyor d’un amor perdut i “Pare”, una ferma denúncia –ben actual– de la destrucció que sofreix la Natura. El 1971 havia editat “Mediterráneo” (amb cançons memorables com la que dóna nom al LP i tan meravelloses com “Aquellas pequeñas cosas”) i el 1972 el disc dedicat als poemes de Miguel Hernández. “Per al meu amic” (2006) també va ser el títol d’un triple àlbum col·lectiu de Discmedi dedicat a Serrat per un grapat de cantants que feien versions de cançons seves: Antònia Font, Miguel Poveda, Mª del Mar Bonet, Dyango, Cris Juanico, Cappela, Uc, Marina Rossell, Jaume Sisa, Miquela Lladó… i Big Mama que versiona aquesta “Per al meu amic” que en l’original de Serrat que escoltam aquí tenia els arranjaments del mestre Antoni Ros Marbà.

5 – “Jo sóc el teu amic” – Els Pets

Els Pets és un grup de pop rock català, liderat per Lluís Gavaldà, originari del poble de Constantí (al Tarragonès), a la veu i guitarra, i també n’és el principal compositor, Joan Reig a la bateria i Falin Cáceres al baix. En els dos primers discos també formava part del grup el guitarrista Ramon Vidal. Els acompanyen habitualment unes coristes anomenades Les Llufes. Allò que esperam dels amics és que estiguin aprop en els pitjors moments: “Quan tot sona tan repetit / tan inútil, tan avorrit / quan l’únic combustible és el dolor (…). Quan se’t fa tant costa amunt / començar des del mateix punt / prova de cridar-me, que no tens motiu per estalviar-me”. Un tema que conclou: som el teu amic, vull que em molestis, parla’m o plora, que no tenc cap altra feina aquesta nit. Això se diu “disposició total”, sí senyor…

6.- “Amics per sempre” – Josep Carreras i Sarah Brightman / Los Manolos

Amics per sempre, o Friends for Life, és un tema interpretat per Josep Carreras i Sarah Brightman escrit per als Jocs Olímpics de Barcelona/1992, amb música d’Andrew Loyd Weber (quasi res !!). La lletra, escrita per Don Black, és en anglès, excepte la tornada que és repeteix en anglès, castellà i català. Aquest tema va ser interpretat durant la cerimònia de clausura del Jocs. Aquí la versió més escoltada, que va assolir la tercera posició en les llistes, fou… la del grup Los Manolos amb arranjaments de rumba i lletra en català i castellà, excepte la tornada. Se n’han fet moltes versions i en un dels concerts a Beijing (Xina) se’n va interpretar una versió xinesa “永远的朋友”amb la meitat de la lletra en mandarí i l’altra meitat en anglès.

7.- “Amiga” – Cap on’nam

 CAPONNAM neix a Barcelona (1995), d’entre un grup d’amics universitaris, amb l’objectiu de sonar cançons populars i tradicionals d’arreu dels Països Catalans. «Amiga» és un tema de Lluís Vaquer i Edgar Gabaldà que pertany al seu disc «Roda al món i torna al born» (Ref. Blau cd 231) enregistrat a Ona Digital l’any 2000. Jaume Gomila Saura, vocalista del grup, resumeix la nova proposta en els termes següents: «CAPONNAM convida a fer un itinerari per les diverses melodies i geografies del planeta: partint del background popular i tradicional, abordam, de manera decidida, la composició pròpia, l’exploració de nous estils —llatí, pop, country, mediterrani o folk— i, fins i tot, la versió d’algun clàssic de la música beat. El disc és, doncs, resultat de la fusió de sis personalitats artístiques força singulars, que queden amalgamades per mitjà d’una instrumentació i uns arranjaments cada cop més ambiciosos i menys convencionals.»

Si voleu escoltar el programa de dimecres passat d’Amb P de Pòrtula

el repetiran demà diumenge dematí de 7 a 10;

la nostra audició sonarà cap a les 9:15,

una hora perfecta per gaudir de la sintonia de l’amistat

…si és que encara no dormiu, que és diumenge, carai

 Ràdio Marratxí   92.9 FM

Ràdio Marratxí en directe… http://www.radiomarratxi.es/flashplayer.html

Caminhando confiante sobre pontes ardidas.

Uma mão quente, a outra fria e a água a meio termo.

O que é meu é meu.

O que é teu é teu.

O que é nosso é nosso.

Para mim sempre foi (e será) assim.

Mas onde acaba o que é meu e o que é teu e começa o que é nosso?

Enqanto escovava os dentes andava pela casa tateando os móveis em busca da hamrônica, certamente perdida nos lençois. Falava ao telefone com o velho amigo da cidade que deixou. Não havia mudado. Apenas ela. ela escrevia, tocava três instrumentos, ouvia boa música, resolvia suas crises existenciais com poesias, lia livros de filosofia,  admirava arte de vanguarda e o dadaísmo. Ele procurava esquecer o amor de anos. A melhor amiga dela.  Aconselhou-o: ”componha, apaixone-se de novo, admita, leia, informe-se, compre uma bicicleta, iluda-se!”, mas não foi possível convencê-lo de que o romance já havia acabado. Ela encontrou a harmônica dentro da mochila. Ele desligou. Ela pegou o violão, a agenda e a caneta. Compôs.

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FisierulMeu.Ro

Tia Catarina ri na cara de quem esconde tara
e o céu sem os demônios que ela abriga
é mais azul;
o ar
mais puro e limpo
não a sufoca.

Pera ae…Faustão é mulher e foi demitido ou ouve algum erro pelo site do Terra…

sem graça, mas na hora achei estranho associarem a foto do gordinho com alguma mulher.

Comenta ae!!!!

Eu queria que aqui tivesse garoa todos os dias pra sentir São Paulo queimando na pele

(e eu queria fazer chover fraco toda vez que voltasse pra lá
só pra eu poder ver as ruas e andar tranquilamente
sendo uma eterna turista).

O que eu ouço é o mesmo que ele ouve.

(mesmo que isso não prove nada)

Não prova que a inspiração é a mesma, a influência, a origem de cada acorde, as palavras e a pronúncia fortemente britânica.

Os livros que lemos.

(isso quase prova)

Porque de 139 páginas algo foi nutrido, experimentado, praticado e reconhecido. Sempre, sempre e sempre.

Os textos que escrevemos.

(a maior prova)

Porque esse é o claro que a experiência nos dá.

(o que eu ouço, leio e escrevo é o mesmo que ele ouve, lê e entende).

Esti o curva retardata. Cata lipsa de originalitate, orgoliu, personalitate, creier sa ai? Cred ca ai o placere deosebita in a cersii atentie de la mine. Chit ca te injur. Ma intreb: oare te masturbezi cand imi citesti posturile? Iti place asa sa te fac de cacat? Stiu ca sunt perfecta si iti doresti sa imi traiesti viata. Iti doresti sa ai ideile mele (culmea, nu asa de reusite). Iti doresti sa te afli in locul meu. Dar fetitaaa proasta, hai sa iti zic pentru a 1000-a oara: NU ESTI! Nu incerca sa ma mai cauti (cum ai facut azi), pentru ca nu vreau sa discut cu tine. Vreau sa ma scoti de la blogroll, vreau sa nu-mi mai furi posturile.

http://cris-buli.blogspot.com/2009/11/somn.html

Este postul asta , al meu. Facut de mine. Intamplat mie.

Incep sa cred ca ai probleme medicale. Grave. Reusesti taranca, pitica si grasa sa intelegi? Complexata, frustrata, curva, retardata? Ia zi Cristina, esti capabila sa procesezi? Sau trebuie sa-ti facem o pancarda mare cu desene?

Cum ma gasiti frate toti pe mine?

Later update: daca sunt asa proasta si naspa, betiva notorie, vai de viata mea, de ce cacat imi iei posturile? De ce nu poti sa te abtii sa ma bagi in seama tot timpul? Habar n-ai de capul tau. Si ma cred o bucuresteanca foarte tare, pentru ca sunt si pentru ca exista provinciale, taranci si proaste ca tine care nu fac altceva decat sa ma venereze si imi gadila orgoliu constant. Asa ca TU esti o catea trista. Mars.

A inércia, insuficiência, indiferença, nostalgia, raiva, a mente se permitindo e proibindo, a alma te despindo até não restar nada, os olhos em chamas e a sensação de que meu coração (um dia) piegas está virando pedra.

(e um dia eu ainda vou queimar aquelas velhas caixas).

Eu tinha vontade de botar fogo naquelas caixas velhas e no que eu sentia por você. Queria arrancar todo aquele tormento jazido dentro do peito. Restos. Eram só restos. Não serviam para mais nada! Por mais que você tivesse se apegado a eles, já eram sentimentos inúteis e perdidos. Totalmente vazios! A essa altura não poderiam ser recuperados. Fomos longe, muito longe. Arriscamos e perdemos. Agora pagamos o preço. Não, não há mais volta

(nada vai reacender essa chama).

RODEI…

RODEI…

Sady Mac

Rodei, andei em círculos
devagarzinho fui
girei, rodopiei
obstáculos pulei
espinhos nem pensar
não os senti neste caminho
contornei todas as curvas
do meu destino, e assim
recriei meus sonhos
refiz meu percurso
assim vou eu
como águas a rolar
de encontro a mim mesmo.

While we prepared for our first mission we adjusted to what life was like on a large airbase and logistics hub. Ta Qaddum is one of the larger Iraq Air Force bases from Saddam’s time but has a history going back to the old Royal Air Force base at Habbinyah which is just down the hill.  In 1941 the Iraqi Army laid siege to the British forces in Habbinyah from the escarpment that overlooks the town from what is now the northern edge of TQ.  One only has to imagine the feelings of the Iraqi soldiers short on supply and exposed to air attack on the escarpment while waiting for German intervention only to be driven off by the British when their relief force arrived from Jordan.

Wrecked Iraqi Bomber at TQ

The Iraqi legacy on the base looms in some of the infrastructure as well as the hulks of Soviet made Iraqi Air Force bomber and fighter aircraft near the edge of the airfield.  When I was there in 2007-2008 the base was under the command of the 2^nd Marine Logistics Group or 2^nd MLG.  The MLG is a command and control headquarters for logistics support units of the 2^nd Marine Expeditionary Force.  It is tailored to support the Ground Combat Element, the 2^nd Marine Division and the Air Combat Element, the 2^nd Marine Air Wing and attached units.  Its function is similar to an Army Corps Support Command or whatever the Army calls them now.  TQ was also the home of several helicopter squadrons Marine and Army as well as a local defense force at the time made up of the 1^st Battalion 11^th Marines from Camp Pendleton. 1/11 was an artillery battalion but was being primarily used as a security and convoy protection force.  Other units including Navy Seabees and Army logistics units operated from TQ.  A Marine Infantry Battalion was stationed in Habbinyah while elements of a Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) were operating in the area as part of the surge.

The base is about mid-range on the amenity scale for troop comfort. At the time we were there the only non-DFAC/ Chow Hall was the Green Beans Coffee trailer as opposed to places like Al Asad and Camp Victory which had a multiplicity of fast food places for the troops.  The Marines are tougher on communication security than the Army and many websites which troops could use on other bases were unavailable unless one went to the Iraqi internet café or the MWR computer and phone center.  The Iraqi run shop had the fastest internet on the base but you had to contend with huge amounts of second hand smoke and pay a nominal charge to use it.  The MWR facility often had broken machines, had a waiting list to use them and the connections were very poor with pages slower to load that the old dial up days.  On the plus side TQ did have a relatively decent Marine Corps exchange, not as big as Al Asad or Camp Victory, but one of the larger exchanges in Iraq and second only to Al Asad in the West.  Most places including Ramadi had pretty small and not well stocked exchanges.  TQ had nice fitness center facilities which I used a lot being coached by Nelson.

Chaplains and RPs with Chuck Norris

The base MWR worked with the USO and other agencies to bring sports stars or celebrities to the base.  Just before we left on our first mission Chuck Norris came through.  Chuck was made an “Honorary Marine” a few years back and has made it his task to try to meet every Marine deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan, shaking the hand of each one he met.  The chapel was the host facility for the visit which last about 2 hours in which Chuck pressed the flesh and had his picture taken with probably close to 5000 Marines and other personnel, maybe more.  The Chaplains were drafted to be the photographers and I lost count of how many different types of digital cameras that I took pictures with.  Chuck enjoyed the heck out of Nelson and was impressed with his fighting resume.  I think that Nelson got more face time with Chuck than anyone on the base and he deserved it.  Chuck was accompanied by Chaplain Langston and RP1 Roland our friend from Fallujah.  After they were done he had to get on the waiting helo and fly out to his next stop.

Chuck and Nelson

The chow halls, of which there were two, were large and usually had a pretty good menu.  I especially came to like the Indian nights where Indian specialties were served.  Since many of the cooks employed by Gulf Catering who had the contract were Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi or from Ceylon so it generally was pretty good unless they had to scrounge for suitable ingredients.  I like the curry chicken, but occasionally it was made with chicken nuggets when the real chicken was in short supply.  It almost reminded me of the Spam Lamb in the TV series M*A*S*H or the great quote out of the movie Meatballs: “Attention. Here’s an update on tonight’s dinner. It was veal. I repeat, veal. The winner of tonight’s mystery meat contest is Jeffrey Corbin who guessed “some kind of beef.”   I think that there were a number of times when I really wondered what the meat was.  They usually had a pretty good salad bar unless resupply convoys were interrupted and fresh vegetables had run out.  There were a number of times where the pickins were slim and Nelson and I had to get creative.  Breakfast was usually good with a good choice of food choices, some even healthy.  The workers were great, always friendly despite working 12 hour days 6 days a week for $300 a month.  Many had signed up through agencies which cost them $4000 so the first year that many worked was for nothing.  It was in my opinion a case of a KBR/ Halliburton subcontractor using them in effect as indentured servants and pretty well damned close to slaves, all legal by the US Government.  I thought that it was pretty immoral and certainly a case of a company contracted by the government reducing labor costs on the back of some of the poorest people in the world. Back at the end of the Cold War the military downsized and eliminated most of the Army and Marine mess specialists which paved the way for the contracting industry, led by the former Secretary of Defense and his Halliburton team to begin their massive contracting operations with the Bosnia deployments back in 1995.  They were limited to their own compound far away from anything and were always the last to eat.  They were polite and really tried to accommodate sometimes rude and condescending Americans, the local management did the best they could to give them good accommodations but were limited by their parent company.  Many of the workers were Roman Catholic or Anglican Christians  and Fr Jose had a great ministry that he took on to support them by going to their camp a couple of times a week to celebrate Mass.  His masses were packed and what a source of life and the love of God he was to so many people at TQ, Americans and non-Americans alike.

Fr Jose on the bank of the Euphrates at Habbinyah

About a week after we got to TQ Marines from the battalion in Habbinyah were hit in an IED complex ambush while on patrol.  A couple of vehicles were hit, Jose was across the base celebrating Mass and Pat was in Fallujah.  A chaplain was needed in the Shock Surgical Trauma Unit or SSTP.  Wounded were being brought in, the platoon had been hit hard, 14 wounded and a couple killed.  I figured that since I was a pretty experienced trauma and critical care chaplain who had dealt with over 500 deaths, many traumatic with bullet wounds, burns and the host of other types of trauma, and tended to probably twice that many who did not die that I could handle this.  When I got to the SSTP I was greeted by a couple of nurses and docs and briefed as to what was going on.  Within a few minutes the casualties were beginning to roll in as the UH-60 Dust-off MEDIVAC helicopters landed and teams went out to meet them.  Some were ambulatory, or walking wounded bandaged with lacerations and burns on their faces and upper bodies, other were brought in on stretchers and ushered into the treatment beds in the area outside the OR.  It was like a scene out of M*A*S*H as the well honed surgical teams, surgeons, anesthetists, nurses and corpsmen went to work.  I now work with a number of these fine people. I was able to make my way about to the wounded Marines, praying with some, holding hands as and with a couple performing the sacrament of healing, or the anointing of the sick.  As I listen to Marines, prayed with them or anointed them there was a tremendous sense that this was different than what I did at Parkland or Cabell-Huntington.  These young men wore the same uniform that I wore, served the same country that I served and travelled the same roads that I would soon be on.  As each was assessed and moved off to surgery, prepared for further evacuation or treated and sent to a ward I noticed the little things about each of them.  The wounds, the torn uniforms, the burns and even the tattoos, these were our guys, they weren’t gang bangers or criminals but young Americans fighting a brutal war against a enemy that had terrorized Iraqis and found devastating ways to kill Americans.  Some of the Marines asked if they would be okay, others asked about friends and in those moments I learned what it was to care and be with men traumatized by the violence and brutality of war against an enemy that would not fight by our rules, much as the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong refused to fight our war.  The enemy was clever and determined and his weapons were deadly.

TQ Surgical During Mass Casualty Event (Stars and Stripes Photo)

The teams did their work quickly and soon the event in the ER was done as the Marines were moved off to OR, the ward or further evacuation. I spent some time talking with unit Corpsmen and less wounded Marines and learned about the attack. They were in a convoy heading back to Habbinyah when the there was an enemy contact ahead of them.  As they moved forward to engage a primary and secondary IED hit the convoy heavily damaging two trucks with an ensuing firefight.  The Marines fought off their attackers, the wounded were treated and security set up as Dust-off came in to evacuate the wounded.  I thought back to my days as a Medical Service Corps Officer in the Army and remembered my friends who had elected to apply for flight school to become Dust-off pilots.  I remembered learning to call in MEDIVAC missions and some of the Army MSC aviators that I knew; some had flown in Vietnam, being a Dustoff pilot can be a sporty occupation.  They fly an unarmed bird into hot landing zones and get badly wounded troops to medical facilities in 100 degree plus weather without killing them enroute, those guys are good. As the crowd dissipated I spend so time with some of the staff.  Eventually with night having fallen I began the walk back to my office in the Chapel.  I looked up at the night sky, in the darkness a another UH-60 sat down to pick up others being evacuated on to Baghdad or Balad.  I looked up at the sky and saw more stars than I had seen at any time since I was at sea on the USS HUE CITY.  It was amazing; it looked like you could almost walk across them from horizon to horizon. When I got to my office I checked on my our mission status, I had submitted our first Air Support Request earlier in the day, of course it had not moved yet, but at least it gave me something to do.  I checked my unclassified e-mail and knew that there was nothing that I could share with anyone so I looked at baseball scores, checked a couple of news sites and headed off to my “can.”

Packaging a Casualty for Further Evacuation on the TQ Surgical Pad

That night I did not sleep well, the images of the wounded Marines were burned into my mind; I could see their faces, their wounds and their tattoos.  I prayed the office of Compline from the Book of Common Prayer using Psalm 91 and the prayer “Be our light in the darkness, O Lord, and in your great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of your only Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.  Amen.” I took some comfort in this, walked out again into the night to see illumination rounds in the vicinity of Habbinyah and the distant sound of automatic weapons fire.   For once my insomnia was not related to jet lag or exhausting night flights, it was instead a realization that what happened to these Marines could well happen to me as I we launched later in the week.

The next morning another eight or ten Marines from the same company came in, this time I went to the SSTP with Jose and we did a tag team match, we tried to determine religious affiliation of the wounded Marines with him taking the Roman Catholics to provide sacramental needs and me taking the rest.  Once again the images were vivid; these Marines were on a mission to recover the damaged vehicles and were hit by IEDs on their way back to base.  This time one Marine was killed.  I walked to the graves registration and mortuary affairs team with the battalion surgeon and a corpsman who were to identify the body.  I listened to their frustration and heartache as they described what they had been through the past two days.  The company had taken over 20 casualties including 3 dead.  A high percentage of casualties for a unit that probably numbered about 120 men.  Once again I walked back, this time in the hot mid-morning sun with Jose to the Chapel.  We talked for a while about the past two days, he knew the battalion that had been hit well as he supported them as well.  The surgeon was one of his parishioners.  After we went our separate ways I did my morning prayer and settled in to study more about where we were going.  Nelson and I got PT later in the evening and I spent a restless night in my “can” playing computer Maj-Jong and Chess on my laptop deep into the morning.  Once again I spent time walking in the dark looking at the vast sea of stars above me.

15 e 17 são irmãos
nascidos de opostos

(os mais fortes em mim nos últimos anos)

e eu os nego como parte de minha história
para que nenhum outro janeiro, setembro ou outubro
me faça doer ou viver tanto
para que nenhum 2004, 2008 ou 2009
me lembre que eu já fui melhor
mais amável e mais amada,
mais capaz
e menos viciada
nesses cortes

(e eu sempre esqueço que foi em abril).

I hugged my guitar
under the blanket
in a summer afternoon and cryed

all the things that were achin’ inside
leaved in a sick scream

she said it can’t give you a future
but nor near of influence you
she always try to do the things indirectly

mom I was a journalist
mom I was what I wanted but now
all is broke

I will take the guitar and backpack
I will catch the money in the bank and I’ll don’t back

because I never liked this city
because I never liked the violin
because I never liked the street where I grew up

my friends became strangers
and this new dog don’t know me
my haircut confuse myself
each time I look at the mirror
(I was it too)

I go walk under the drizzle
I’ll never back.

I’ll not back
and you will beg.

para que a segunda vire terça e não haja mais quarta
para que os cacos se colem aos poucos
para que a companhia não se perca na volta
para que a alma agüente
para que os tímpanos sejam sangue
e para que o coração seja mais verdade
do que desejo.

 

Sinopse: Julianne (Julia Roberts) e Michael (Dermot Mulroney) combinaram que, se ambos continuassem solteiros quando completassem 30 anos, se casariam. Quando recebe um telefonema do amigo, às vésperas da fatídica data, anunciando que está prestes a se casar, mas com outra (Cameron Diaz), Julianne se descobre apaixonada por ele e aceita o convite para ser madrinha, mas com segundas intenções.

Informação:
Tamanho:700MB
Gênero:Comédia Romântica
Duração:1h44min
Formato:DvdRip
Idioma:Inglês

Download Filme
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Sério, é vergonhoso. Eu sou muuuito preguiçosa.

Se eu já disse a frase “Não deixe para amanhã o que você pode fazer hoje”, pode ter certeza que eu estava tentando ser engraçadinha. Oi, se eu posso fazer amanhã NUNCA que eu vou fazer hoje. Se não for infinitamente interessante. Às vezes nem assim.

Tem vezes que me dá uns surtos de ‘acontecer’. Por exemplo, eu sei que tenho de ir pendurar a toalha no banheiro, mas ela está super de boa e indefesa ali nas costas da cadeira, que eu super não quero incomodar. Aí, sem mais nem menos, eu levanto e levo a bagaça pro lugar certo. Assim, sem razão ou pensamento, só levantei e fui.

Se esses surtos fossem mais frequentes, talvez eu tivesse até um ritmo de vida que nem das pessoas normais.

E aí que eu ganhei esse cachorro, né. Devem fazer uns dois meses. Eu nem fui escolher e não rolou aquela comunicação silenciosa entre as almas, ou o que quer que seja que nos atrai para os bichinhos certos. Meu pai viu numa pet e resolver comprar pra mim. Mas não é que o bichinho é tão preguiçoso quanto?

Ele brinca correndo atrás de bolinhas e essas coisas, como todo bom filhote. No entanto, no momento em que ele percebeu que correr atrás da bolinha loucamente só para que eu a chutasse para longe de novo era MUITO cansativo e sem propósito, ele adotou outra estratégia. Assim que a bolinha batesse na parede do outro lado do corredor e VOLTASSE o máximo que dava, aí sim ele iria atrás.

Ele também é muito carente e gosta de atenção. Mas se a gente demora muito pra oferecer, ele fica com preguiça de esperar, deita e dorme.

Ele não foge e sai correndo loucamente quando a gente desce com ele, porque após um tempinho andando e cheirando as coisas ele meio que já cansa de fazer aquilo e senta ao meu lado, esperando pra ver de qual é agora.

Tem gente que gosta de cachorro pela constante atenção e porque eles sempre estão dispostos a brincar e toda essas coisas, mas eu, que queria loucamente um gato, acho que de uma forma meio distorcida tive meu desejo atendido.

Cada espaço deitável é digno de uma soneca

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A viver na faixa da esquerda.

Just another place in the road.
I was travelling
and I was alone.