<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291</id><updated>2011-04-22T02:46:55.892-03:00</updated><category term='estudiantes'/><title type='text'>FReD JaBBuR's BLoG</title><subtitle type='html'>Blog de Fred Jabbur</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Fred Jabbur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16178622146853845610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1366</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-6913611447693467</id><published>2008-02-09T11:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T11:05:10.022-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VersosEnviados pelo Palomo, do Caetano:"Sua mãe e euSeu irmão e euE a mãe do seu irmãoMinha mãe e euMeus irmãos e euE os pais da sua mãeE a irmã da sua mãeLhe damos as boas-vindasBoas-vindas, boas-vindasVenha conhecer a vidaEu digo que ela é gostosaTem o sol e tem a luaTem o medo e tem a rosaEu digo que ela é gostosaTem a noite e tem o diaA poesia e tem a prosaEu digo que ela é gostosaTem a morte</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/6913611447693467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/6913611447693467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html#6913611447693467' title=''/><author><name>Fred Jabbur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16178622146853845610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-5244207304656699659</id><published>2008-01-27T21:35:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T21:37:30.802-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Sombra do VentoEu costumo anotar algumas passagens dos livros que leio, mas o livro A Sombra do Vento ganhou de todos... Tem um personagem hilário, Fermín, autor das maiores pérolas.... Segue a seleção:p 334: “O que o florista interpretou como mau humor não era senão a firmeza de espírito que só existe naqueles que, antes tarde do que nunca, encontraram um objetivo para suas vidas e o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/5244207304656699659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/5244207304656699659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#5244207304656699659' title=''/><author><name>Fred Jabbur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16178622146853845610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-5040085717134075656</id><published>2008-01-27T21:33:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T21:35:00.027-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Livros lidos em 2007A Sombra do Vento (Carlos Ruiz Zafón)O Afegão (Frederick Forsyth)O Manipulador (Frederick Forsyth)1808 (Laurentino Gomes)O Dia do Chacal (Frederick Forsyth)Sétimo (André Vianco)A Alternativa do Diabo (Frederick Forsyth)Investimentos - Como Administrar Melhor seu Dinheiro (Mauro Halfeld)A Cidade do Sol (Khaled Hosseini)O Homem que Matou Getulio Vargas (Jo Soares)Assassinatos na</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/5040085717134075656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/5040085717134075656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#5040085717134075656' title=''/><author><name>Fred Jabbur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16178622146853845610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-6351721169986284558</id><published>2008-01-27T21:27:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T21:30:07.599-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>RetornoVoltei... Depois que o Google abocanhou o Blogger e pediu pra associar os blogs antigos a uma conta do gmail.com, não sei o que aconteceu, mas o meu blogger foi associado ao email maria.rokita@gmail.com. Tentei um contato com o dono do email, e não tive resposta. Os posts antigos são todos dele. Qual foi minha surpresa quando hoje encontrei-o online no gmail. Depois de um bate papo, ele(?)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/6351721169986284558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/6351721169986284558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#6351721169986284558' title=''/><author><name>Fred Jabbur</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16178622146853845610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-2746226828563727685</id><published>2008-01-11T17:53:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T17:53:29.266-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='estudiantes'/><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>¿Quién tiene la libertad académica? Son pocos los estudiantes de postgrado serían capaces de reconocer cualquier aplicación del concepto de la libertad académica mientras se lucha por cumplir con los requisitos para ganar muchos títulos que son un elemento esencial de credenciales para entrar en el recinto sagrado de arboledas academia.Even existe, la libertad puede ser limitada si un Asesor </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/2746226828563727685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/2746226828563727685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#2746226828563727685' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-6055497592725534253</id><published>2007-11-23T16:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T16:19:33.092-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Realización de una vida en el seguro de vida es una tarea difícil. Agentes continuamente a la búsqueda de los seguros de vida, lo cual da como resultado nuevos clientes. Ellos hacen una comisión sobre cada póliza de seguro de vida que venden. A menudo ir de puerta en puerta vendiendo las políticas y no pueden sentarse en sus oficinas esperando a los clientes a entrar por la puerta. Ellos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/6055497592725534253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/6055497592725534253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#6055497592725534253' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-8705762421887618277</id><published>2007-10-03T15:12:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T15:12:29.586-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Qualquer um que tem uma estrada de ferro modelo saberá apenas a excitar pode ser o manter e o usar realmente. Entretanto, sem uma coisa, a estrada de ferro não seria meia tanto divertimento! O cenário que é colocado em torno das trilhas do trem é frequentemente completamente simplesmente breathtaking, especialmente se for altamente detalhado e muito lifelike. Naturalmente então você tem seu </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/8705762421887618277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/8705762421887618277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#8705762421887618277' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-520629182519550224</id><published>2007-08-21T18:40:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T18:40:41.996-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>le critique de Prix-gana preguntas de los vos del prend de Michael Dirda et commente au sujet de la littérature, livres del DES et des joies de la lecture.Apparaît de Dirda de semaine del chaque de Le nom de -- de los dans de los les de los lettres grandes unmistakably -- poteau de du livre du del monde de de la section du de la página 15 del la del à. El ambitieux romano del nouveau del un del </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/520629182519550224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/520629182519550224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#520629182519550224' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-116413234098804820</id><published>2006-11-21T15:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T15:05:41.023-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Axiomas da EngenhariaAqui está o mais puro exemplo de como temos, muitas vezes, de nos adaptar as atitudes tomadas no passado.A bitola das ferrovias (distância entre os dois trilhos) nos Estados Unidos é 4 pés e 8,5 polegadas.Porque esse número foi utilizado?Porque era esta a bitola das ferrovias inglesas e, como as americanas, foram construídas pelos ingleses, portanto esta foi a medida </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/116413234098804820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/116413234098804820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116413234098804820' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-116404107202206411</id><published>2006-11-20T13:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T13:48:00.133-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Regra mineira para resolver pendengaUm rico advogado paulista, famoso na capital, gostava de caçar nas férias.Estava fazendo tiro ao pato numa região de lagoas, em Patos de Minas.Um dos patos que ele alvejou caiu do outro lado de uma cerca de arame farpado.Sem ver viv'alma por perto, pulou a cerca e, quando avançava pela propriedadeapareceu um velho dirigindo um tratorzinho, em sua direção.- Moço</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/116404107202206411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/116404107202206411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116404107202206411' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-116276856191567005</id><published>2006-11-05T20:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:17:17.160-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>RetornoVoltei... Depois de dois anos... Vamos ver se agora engrena...Atualizei o layout... Retirei os links bixados...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/116276856191567005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/116276856191567005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116276856191567005' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-115470077236942148</id><published>2006-08-04T11:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T11:15:24.916-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tá funcionando ainda??? Tô usando o Shysurfer...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/115470077236942148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/115470077236942148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115470077236942148' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-111722373355252486</id><published>2005-05-27T16:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T16:55:33.556-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VoltaDepois de muito tempo, descobri um jeito de acessar o blog, usando o Virtual Browser... Vamos ver se vai dar para atualizar...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/111722373355252486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/111722373355252486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111722373355252486' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-111722369866699505</id><published>2005-05-27T16:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T16:54:58.676-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VoltaDepois de muito tempo, descobri um jeito de acessar o blog, usando o Virtual Browser... Vamos ver se vai dar para atualizar...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/111722369866699505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/111722369866699505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111722369866699505' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172845860462251</id><published>2004-11-29T08:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:40:58.603-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Joãozinho 2O Joãozinho entra no quarto e pega seu pai colocando uma camisinha. Seu pai, muito embaraçado, tenta esconder a sua ereção e a  camisinha se abaixando para olhar embaixo da cama. Joãozinho diz:- O que você está fazendo, papai?O pai responde:- Eu acho que eu vi um rato embaixo da cama.Joãozinho retruca:- Voce vai enrabar ele?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172845860462251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172845860462251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172845860462251' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172772352488745</id><published>2004-11-29T08:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:28:43.526-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>JoãozinhoNuma aula de Ciências do 6º ano, o professor inicia uma experiência: 4 lombrigas são colocadas em quatro tubos de ensaio separados: a primeira lombriga em álcool, a segunda lombriga em fumo de cigarro, a terceira em esperma e a quarta em terra natural. No dia seguinte, o professor mostra aos alunos o resultado: a primeira lombriga, em álcool, está morta; a segunda, no fumo do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172772352488745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172772352488745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172772352488745' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172754917853620</id><published>2004-11-29T08:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:25:49.176-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Resposta do GeneralPerguntaram ao General Norman, dos Estados Unidos, se ele perdoaria os terroristas do 11 de setembro de 2001. Sua resposta:"Eu creio que a tarefa de perdoá-los cabe a DEUS. A nossa é simplesmente arranjar o encontro"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172754917853620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172754917853620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172754917853620' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172743449162560</id><published>2004-11-29T08:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:23:54.490-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SograO marido chega em casa vindo do hospital - aonde havia ido visitar sua sogra.Sua esposa pergunta:"Como está a minha mãe?".O marido responde: "Sua mae está muito bem, saudável como um cavalo e ainda viverá por muito tempo. Na semana que vem ela deverá receber alta do hospital e virá morar conosco para sempre."A esposa, surpresa, pergunta: "Como pode ser? Ontem mesmo ela parecia estar </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172743449162560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172743449162560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172743449162560' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172732606994688</id><published>2004-11-29T08:20:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:22:06.070-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Convite da LoucuraA Loucura resolveu convidar os amigos para tomar um café em sua casa. Todos os convidados foram. Após o café, a Loucura propôs:- Vamos brincar de esconde- esconde?- Esconde-esconde? O que é isso? perguntou a Curiosidade.- Esconde-esconde é uma brincadeira. Eu conto até cem e vocês se escondem. Ao terminar de contar, eu vou procurar, e o primeiro a ser  encontrado será o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172732606994688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172732606994688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172732606994688' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172716880400382</id><published>2004-11-29T08:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:19:28.806-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LeilãoSó faltava essa... Olha o que eles estão vendendo...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172716880400382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172716880400382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172716880400382' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172706823979807</id><published>2004-11-29T08:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:17:48.240-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jesus no SUSJesus Cristo resolveu voltar a Terra... E decidiu vir vestido de médico! Procurou um lugar para descer, escolheu no Brasil um posto de saúde do sistema SUS. Viu um médico trabalhando há muitas horas e morrendo de cansaço. Jesus então entrou de jaleco, passando pela fila de pacientes no corredor, até atingir o consultório médico. Os pacientes viram e falaram: - Olha aí, vai trocar </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172706823979807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172706823979807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172706823979807' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172695767232509</id><published>2004-11-29T08:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:15:57.676-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dieta?"Não faço mais dieta! Afinal, a baleia só bebe água, só come peixe, faz natação o dia inteiro e é gorda!!!!!!! Viva a batata frita e o chopp!!!" </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172695767232509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172695767232509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172695767232509' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172690202323897</id><published>2004-11-29T08:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:15:02.023-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SintoniaOlhs só o que fizeram com os sons do Windows</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172690202323897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172690202323897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172690202323897' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172680757329713</id><published>2004-11-29T08:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:13:27.573-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SolidariedadeAS AMIGAS DA MULHERA esposa passou toda a noite fora de casa. Na manhã seguinte, explicou ao marido que tinha dormido na casa da melhor amiga. O marido telefonou então para 10 das suas melhores amigas, mas nenhuma delas confirmou.OS AMIGOS DO MARIDOO marido passou toda a noite fora de casa. Na manhã seguinte, explicou à mulher que tinha dormido na casa do seu melhor amigo. A </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172680757329713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172680757329713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172680757329713' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172674485719344</id><published>2004-11-29T08:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:12:24.856-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Habeas PinhoEm Campina Grande, na Paraiba, em 1955, um grupo de boêmios fazia serenata numa madrugada do mês de junho, quando chegou a polícia e apreendeu o violão. Decepcionado, o grupo recorreu aos serviços do advogado Ronaldo Cunha Lima, então recentemente saído da faculdade e que também apreciava uma boa seresta.Ele peticionou em Juízo, para que fosse liberado o violão. Esse petitório </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172674485719344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172674485719344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172674485719344' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172627901542990</id><published>2004-11-29T08:04:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:04:39.016-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Frase"Os petistas são como os americanos no Iraque...".Conseguiram invadir o país, encheram o saco e agora não sabem o que fazer com ele.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172627901542990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172627901542990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172627901542990' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172615238577541</id><published>2004-11-29T08:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:02:32.386-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Exercícios práticos para quem tem a intenção de ser pai ou mãeAos pais, mães e aqueles que PRETENDEM OU PRETENDIAM ter filhos... Exercícios práticos para treinamento de futuros papais e mamães: OBS: O grau de dificuldade de cada exercício é equivalente a tratar de uma  criança  com um ano de idade. 1) Passando a noite com o bebê: - Pegue um saco de arroz e passeie pela casa com ele no </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172615238577541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172615238577541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172615238577541' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172600799040343</id><published>2004-11-29T07:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T08:00:07.990-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>HermanosArgentino errante no deserto, desesperado por um pouco d'água. De repente, vê algo ao longe, parecendo um oásis. Cheio de esperança, arrasta-se até lá, mas só encontra um camelô brasileiro sentado perto de uma mesa cheia de gravatas. O argentino implora: Por favor, estoy muerto de séd, puedes dar-me un poquito de água? O brasileiro responde: Eu não tenho água, mas por que vc não </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172600799040343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172600799040343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172600799040343' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172582777226509</id><published>2004-11-29T07:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T07:57:07.773-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>AdultérioUm sujeito, voltando de uma viagem de negócios, entra em um táxi no aeroporto. Enquanto se dirigiam para casa, ele perguntou ao taxista se ele topava ser testemunha. Ele suspeitava que a esposa estava tendo um caso e pretendia flagrá-la no ato.Chegaram silenciosamente à casa e subiram pé ante pé até o quarto. O  marido acendeu as luzes, arrancou o cobertor e lá estava a esposa dele na</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172582777226509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172582777226509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172582777226509' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172526403905542</id><published>2004-11-29T07:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T07:58:17.016-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Por que se ama alguém?(Luís Fernando Veríssimo)Ninguém ama outra pessoa pelas qualidades que ela tem, caso contrário os honestos, simpáticos e não-fumantes teriam uma fila de pretendentes batendo à porta.O amor não é chegado a fazer contas, não obedece a Razão.O verdadeiro amor acontece por empatia, por magnetismo...Ninguém ama outra pessoa porque ela é educada, veste-se bem e é fã do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172526403905542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172526403905542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172526403905542' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172554770528098</id><published>2004-11-29T07:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T07:52:27.706-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Garçonete VirtualFaça seu pedido para esta garçonete e divirta-se.Dicas de pedidos:hold pillow suck fight love ass tits kiss kick lips hair tattoo show beer give me a beer playboy say wet banana feet jump strip clothes call dance fire shake fake it hummer can bottle stretch cowboy rub model lay down show me your bra tap laugh party magic spin spread </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172554770528098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172554770528098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172554770528098' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-110172482485369262</id><published>2004-11-29T07:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T07:40:24.853-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>BlogDepois de uma eleição municipal vamos ver se conseguimos reativar este Blog... Desculpem-me os frequentadores, se ainda houver algum...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172482485369262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/110172482485369262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110172482485369262' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109382590277603798</id><published>2004-08-29T21:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-29T21:31:42.776-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Desculpa do AnoO sujeito finalmente conseguiu realizar o seu sonho de comprar uma Mercedes 0km, conversível.......  Então, numa bela tarde, se mandou para uma auto-estrada para testar toda  a  capacidade da "belezura". Capota abaixada, o vento na cara, o cabelo voando, resolveu ir fundo! Quando o ponteiro estava chegando nos 120, ele viu que um carro da Polícia Rodoviária o perseguia com a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109382590277603798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109382590277603798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109382590277603798' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109382571622468030</id><published>2004-08-29T21:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-29T21:28:36.223-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Moral MuçulmanaUm casal muçulmano "moderno", preparando o casamento religioso, visita um Mullah buscando aconselhamento. Antes de saírem, o homem pergunta: - Nós sabemos que é uma tradição no Islã os homens dançarem com homens e mulheres dançarem com mulheres. Mas em nossa festa de casamento, nós gostaríamos de sua permissão para que todos dancem juntos. - Absolutamente, não! - diz o Mullah -</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109382571622468030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109382571622468030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109382571622468030' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109310175276486947</id><published>2004-08-21T12:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-21T12:22:32.763-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tribunal BrasileiroSe você é daqueles que adora filmes como "a firma", "o júri", "questão de honra", etc., aqui vão algumas explicações do porquê no Brasil não há produção cinematográfica explorando temas judiciais (tribunal, julgamento, advogados, etc.)1. O filme levaria 8 horas até esgotar todas as instâncias, recursos, embargos, apelações e agravos.2. Ninguém acreditaria no Tony Ramos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109310175276486947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109310175276486947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109310175276486947' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109305387396367166</id><published>2004-08-20T22:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T23:04:33.963-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ZX SpectrumPra quem já teve um TK95 e quer reviver o passado, segue um emulador todo mastigado, e uma fonte quase ilimitada de programas.... Ainda vou achar um programa de quebra cabeça, onde tem que montar a face de algumas celebridades.... Esse jogo é o que mais tenho saldade do TK, mas não lembro o nome dele... O dia que tiver tempo vou procurar com calma.... Se alguém souber o nome, aguardo</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109305387396367166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109305387396367166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109305387396367166' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109305358992762643</id><published>2004-08-20T22:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T22:59:49.926-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Fraude?Será que o homem foi realmente à Lua??</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109305358992762643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109305358992762643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109305358992762643' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166884486606157</id><published>2004-08-04T22:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T22:20:44.866-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Queiramos ou não, é assim mesmo Com a aproximação do inverno, os índios foram ao cacique perguntar:- Chefe, será que teremos um inverno rigoroso ou será ameno?O chefe, vivendo nos tempos modernos, não tinha aprendido os segredos de meteorologia como seus ancestrais. Mas claro, não podia mostrar insegurança ou dúvida. Por algum tempo olhou para o céu, estendeu as mãos para sentir os ventos e </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166884486606157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166884486606157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166884486606157' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166807164277287</id><published>2004-08-04T22:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T22:07:51.643-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Relação Médico x Paciente "Enquanto isso, no Hospital Santa Maria:- Bom dia, é da recepção?- Sim!!- Eu gostaria de falar com alguém que me desse informações sobre os pacientes. Queria saber se certa pessoa está melhor ou piorou...- Qual e o nome do paciente?- Chama-se Maria Isabel e está no quarto 302.- Um momentinho, vou transferir a ligação para o setor de enfermagem...- Bom dia, sou a</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166807164277287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166807164277287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166807164277287' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166767171905361</id><published>2004-08-04T21:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T22:01:11.720-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Em um futuro próximoÉ o que nos espera...Pedindo uma Pizza em 2009- Telefonista: Pizza Hot, boa noite!- Cliente: Boa noite, quero encomendar pizzas...- Telefonista: Pode me dar o seu NIDN?- Cliente: Sim, o meu número de identificação nacional é 6102-1993-8456-54632107.- Telefonista: Obrigada, Sr.Lacerda. Seu endereço é Av. Paes de Barros, 1988 ap. 52 B, e o número de seu telefone é 5494-</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166767171905361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166767171905361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166767171905361' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166680208985482</id><published>2004-08-04T21:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T22:55:22.306-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>AntigasPra matar a saudade, que tal uma versão web do Lemmings??</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166680208985482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166680208985482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166680208985482' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166660388465747</id><published>2004-08-04T21:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:43:23.883-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O UrsoDepois de vários dias à espreita, o caçador avistou um urso grande, mirou e abateu o animal. Ele estava pulando de alegria, quando sentiu um tapinha no ombro. Era um urso maior ainda, sacudindo a cabeça em sinal de desaprovação.- Você não deveria ter feito isso - disse o urso. Você matou um dos meus semelhantes, e agora vai ter de pagar. Você prefere morrer ou ser estuprado?Diante das </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166660388465747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166660388465747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166660388465747' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166644856030931</id><published>2004-08-04T21:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:40:48.560-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PapaUm representante da Sadia pede uma audiencia com o papa. Oferece 5 Milhoes de dolares para que o papa troque um trecho do pai-nosso. Em vez de "pao nosso de cada dia" colocar "frango nosso de cada dia".  O papa tem um ataque, toma 3 valiuns e excomunga o cara, indignado.  Na semana seguinte o mesmo representante vem com nova proposta: 20 Milhoes de dolares. O papa novamente declina, faz o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166644856030931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166644856030931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166644856030931' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166599483303364</id><published>2004-08-04T21:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:35:01.736-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Diferenca entre "teu" e "seu"O Diretor Geral de um Banco, estava preocupado com um jovem e brilhante Diretor, que depois de ter trabalhado durante algum tempo junto dele, sem parar nem para almocar, comecou a ausentar-se ao meio-dia Entao o Diretor Geral do Banco, chamou um detetive particular e disse-lhe:"Siga o Diretor Lopes durante uma semana."O detetive, apos cumprir o que lhe havia sido </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166599483303364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166599483303364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166599483303364' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166578392935911</id><published>2004-08-04T21:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:29:43.930-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Absolvição de um inocenteUm homem foi trazido perante o juiz e acusado de necrofilia, por ter feito sexo com uma mulher morta.Disse-lhe o juiz:- Em 20 anos de magistratura, nunca ouvi uma coisa tão nojenta e imoral. Me dê uma única razão para eu não pô-lo na cadeia e jogar fora a chave!O homem respondeu:- Vou lhe dar não UMA, mas TRÊS boas razões:1º. Não é da sua conta, o Sr. não tem nada </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166578392935911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166578392935911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166578392935911' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166537111181391</id><published>2004-08-04T21:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:22:51.113-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Criatividade ComercialO pastor pendurou um cartaz na porta do templo:"SE VOCÊ ESTÁ CANSADO DE PECAR, ENTRE!"Ao que alguém aproveitou e escreveu embaixo:SE NÃO ESTIVER... ME LIGUE!Neidinha Xupetão: 9315-6874</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166537111181391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166537111181391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166537111181391' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-10916653004960280</id><published>2004-08-04T21:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:21:40.496-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tempo de CriseO cara vai andando pela rua quando de repente, não mais que de repente, um assaltante mascarado lhe aponta a arma e lhe diz:- Passa o relógio!O coitado lhe dá seu Rolex falso e o ladrão reclama:- O que é isto? Esta porcaria qualquer camelô vende por 20 reais! Passa logo a carteira!O homem lhe alcança sua carteira de plástico, imitação de Pierre Cardin e o assaltante encontra </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/10916653004960280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/10916653004960280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#10916653004960280' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-109166500748981051</id><published>2004-08-04T21:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T21:16:47.490-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Frase do dia"Os políticos e as fraldas devem ser mudados de vez em quando, pelas mesmas razões."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166500748981051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/109166500748981051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109166500748981051' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108993155932276698</id><published>2004-07-15T19:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-07-15T19:45:59.323-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LivroAcabei de ler o 3° livro da trilogia de Artur, Excalibur, de Bernard Cornwell.... Só pelo pequeno prazo que detonei o livro (5 dias e 529 páginas) não preciso falar muito..... Mas vou falar..... O autor conseguiu de um jeito raro contar uma estório totalmente diferente do que ouvimos falar do Rei Artur, da távola redonda, de Lancelot, Merlin e outros.... A narrativa é gostosa, flui fácil, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108993155932276698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108993155932276698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#108993155932276698' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108955267462227767</id><published>2004-07-11T10:29:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T10:31:14.623-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mulher MaduraA mulher madura nada no tempo e flui com a serenidade de um peixe.O silêncio em torno de seus gestos tem algo do repouso da garça sobre o lago.Seu olhar sobre os objetos não é de gula ou de concupiscência.Seus olhos não violam as coisas, mas as envolvem ternamente.Sabem a distância entre seu corpo e o mundo.A mulher madura é assim... tem algo de orquídea que brota exclusiva de</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955267462227767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955267462227767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#108955267462227767' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108955256949894618</id><published>2004-07-11T10:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T10:29:29.500-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cultura SexualVocê sabia que antigamente na Inglaterra as pessoas que não fossem da famíliaReal tinham que pedir autorização ao Rei para terem relações sexuais? Por exemplo:Quando as pessoas queriam ter filhos, tinham que pedir consentimento ao Rei que então, ao permitir o coito mandava entregar-lhes uma placa que deveria ser pendurada na porta de casa com a frase:Fornication Under Consent </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955256949894618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955256949894618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#108955256949894618' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108955248117630057</id><published>2004-07-11T10:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T10:28:01.176-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>TaxistaUma senhora pega um táxi e indica a direção do hotel onde está hospedada.O taxista, por incrível que pareça, nada disse durante todo o percurso, até que a senhora resolveu fazer-lhe uma pergunta e tocou levemente seu ombro.Ele gritou, perdeu o controle do carro e, por pouco, não provocou um acidente de terríveis proporções!Com o carro sobre a calçada, a senhora, assustadíssima, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955248117630057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955248117630057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#108955248117630057' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108955221067603007</id><published>2004-07-11T10:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T10:23:30.676-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LivroDetonado o segundo livro, O Inimigo de Deus, do Bernard Cornwell.... Tem tempo que não pego um livro, ou melhor, 3 que me prendem assim.... Já passei para o 3°, Excalibur, que tem tudo para ser do mesmo nível, ou seja, delicioso.....</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955221067603007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108955221067603007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#108955221067603007' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108816385746325432</id><published>2004-06-25T08:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T08:44:17.463-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ganhadores dos "Darwin Awards 2003"Chegou o momento do ano em que são entregues os " Darwin Awards" ,ou seja, os prêmios Darwin, que têm a finalidade de homenagear os menos evoluídos representantes da raça humana. Apresentamos os gloriosos ganhadores 2003 e acompanhando o nome, uma rápida descrição da motivação do prêmio.1º Classificado : James ElliotMotivação : quando o seu revolver </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816385746325432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816385746325432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108816385746325432' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108816324712039279</id><published>2004-06-25T08:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T08:34:07.120-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SutilezaCidadão vira-se para o melhor amigo e pergunta:- Um ménage à trois está entre as suas fantasias?- Claro! - responde o amigo, empolgado.- Então corre já pra sua casa que acho que ainda dá tempo!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816324712039279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816324712039279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108816324712039279' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108816303169568318</id><published>2004-06-25T08:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T08:30:31.696-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SaudadeSaudade 'é a 7ª palavra mais difícil de traduzir' A "sensação de sentir falta de algo ou alguém" é difícil de explicar Uma lista compilada por uma empresa britânica com as opiniões de mil tradutores profissionais coloca a palavra "saudade", em português, como a sétima mais difícil do mundo para se traduzir. A relação da empresa Today Translations é encabeçada por uma palavra do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816303169568318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816303169568318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108816303169568318' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108816281136956143</id><published>2004-06-25T08:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T08:26:51.370-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A Secretária Eletrônica TRIIINN... TRIIINN.... TRIIINN... Responde o gravador do hospício "Obrigado por ter ligado ao Instituto de saúde mental a companhia mais certa  para seus momentos de maior loucura.  -Se você é obsessivo-compulsivo, aperte repetidamente o numero 1  -Se você é co-dependente, peça a alguém que aperte o numero 2 por você  -Se você tem múltipla personalidade, aperte </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816281136956143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816281136956143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108816281136956143' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108816263524911638</id><published>2004-06-25T08:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T08:23:55.250-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LivroO Rei do Inverno já foi pro saco... Já tô no segundo livro, O Inimigo de Deus, do Bernard Cornwell.... Pelo tempo que gastei pra ler o primeiro, nem precisa falar que é bom.... E é muito bom, pra não falar sensacional.... Uma leitura gostosa, viciante, que prende o leitor.... Altamente recomendado.... Diferente de tudo que já ouvimos falar do "Rei" Artur, Lancelot, Merlin....</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816263524911638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108816263524911638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108816263524911638' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108734829786922931</id><published>2004-06-15T22:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-15T22:11:37.870-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LivroComeçei a ler O Rei do Inverno, do Bernard Cornwell... O primeiro de três livros sobre o Rei Artur.... Promete.... Pena que estou sem tempo...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108734829786922931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108734829786922931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108734829786922931' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108734817648863789</id><published>2004-06-15T22:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-15T22:09:36.486-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Horário"Se o horário oficial no Brasil é o de Brasília, por que a gente tem que trabalhar na segunda e na sexta?"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108734817648863789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108734817648863789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108734817648863789' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108725594273388790</id><published>2004-06-14T20:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T20:32:22.733-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ÉticaIsaquinho pergunta para o babai Isaac o que é ética.Babai acha melhor contar uma história para exemplificar:- Endra uma velhinha no lojinha da babai e gombra um broduto que custa R$10,00. Ela não enxerga bem, entrega um nota de R$ 100 e sai do  lojinha.Ética, meu filho, é decidir se você gonta ou não bra seu sócio.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108725594273388790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108725594273388790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108725594273388790' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108678473054872293</id><published>2004-06-09T09:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T09:38:50.546-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Regalias de Funcionário Público   Em uma entrevista de emprego numa repartição pública, o chefe pergunta: - O senhor já sofreu algum acidente grave? - Sim. Quando servia o exército, participei de uma batalha simulada e um tiro atingiu os meus testículos. Tive que extraí-los! - Santo Deus! Exclamou o entrevistador, sem conseguir disfarçar a piedade. Bem, o emprego é seu! Nós chegamos sempre </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678473054872293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678473054872293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108678473054872293' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-1086784560069064</id><published>2004-06-09T09:33:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T09:36:00.070-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CoragemA verdadeira bravura está em chegar em casa de madrugada, ser esperado pela esposa com uma vassoura e ainda ter peito para perguntar: "Você vai varrer a casa ou vai dar um passeio?"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/1086784560069064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/1086784560069064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#1086784560069064' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108678416413138352</id><published>2004-06-09T09:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T09:29:24.133-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O Caso do Sabonete no HotelEsta é uma história verdadeira da correspondência trocada entre um hóspede e os funcionários de um hotel que, diariamente, coloca novos mini-sabonetes nos quartos:-------------------------------------------"Cara Arrumadeira, Por favor não deixe mais estes pequenos sabonetes no quarto. Eu trouxe meu próprio sabonete de tamanho normal. Por favor remova os 6 sabonetes </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678416413138352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678416413138352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108678416413138352' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108678358192128531</id><published>2004-06-09T09:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T09:19:41.920-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>FraseQual o pior defeito. A ignorância, a indiferença ou a raiva??Eu não sei, não quero saber e tenho raiva de quem sabe!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678358192128531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678358192128531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108678358192128531' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108678299416463883</id><published>2004-06-09T09:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T09:09:54.163-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SaposVê se vc consegue resolver o teste dos sapinhos</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678299416463883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108678299416463883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108678299416463883' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587467857323328</id><published>2004-05-29T20:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:51:18.573-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tabela de Preços</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587467857323328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587467857323328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587467857323328' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587463788556467</id><published>2004-05-29T20:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:50:37.886-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Marketing</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587463788556467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587463788556467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587463788556467' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587406137931349</id><published>2004-05-29T20:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:41:01.380-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Produto novo no mercado</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587406137931349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587406137931349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587406137931349' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587335970613112</id><published>2004-05-29T20:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:39:43.663-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Projetos de Sistemas</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587335970613112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587335970613112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587335970613112' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587329490536117</id><published>2004-05-29T20:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:38:41.560-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>DesesperoReação de um baiano durante um tiroteio na Rocinha</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587329490536117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587329490536117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587329490536117' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587298942749778</id><published>2004-05-29T20:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:23:09.426-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Como Economizar no próximo natal</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587298942749778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587298942749778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587298942749778' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587293892745254</id><published>2004-05-29T20:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:22:18.926-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Diferença da foto sem e com flash</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587293892745254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587293892745254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587293892745254' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108587019667377838</id><published>2004-05-29T19:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T20:49:06.840-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Enquanto isso em Belo Horizonte...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587019667377838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108587019667377838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108587019667377838' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108586893559586782</id><published>2004-05-29T19:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T19:15:35.596-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oração da MulherQuerido Senhor:Neste dia de hoje, até o momento, eu estou fazendo tudo certinho.Eu não fofoquei, não perdi meu temperamento, não fui avarenta,nem mal humorada, sórdida, indolente ou egoísta.Eu não lamentei, amaldiçoei ou comi qualquer chocolate.Porém, eu vou me levantar da cama em alguns minutos e eu precisarei muito de sua ajuda depois disso.Obrigado Senhor!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108586893559586782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108586893559586782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108586893559586782' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108586733443355776</id><published>2004-05-29T18:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T18:48:54.433-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>BalizaUm pequeno teste para ver quem tem a manha de fazer baliza...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108586733443355776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108586733443355776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108586733443355776' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108540512666873414</id><published>2004-05-24T10:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-24T10:25:26.666-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Desta eu escapavaO Edito de Valério, imperador da Antigüidade, tinha, simplesmente o seguinte conteúdo:"No caso de dois acusados e havendo dúvida sobre a autoria, deve o juiz condenar o mais feio".(Fonte: Revista Literária de Direito)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108540512666873414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108540512666873414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108540512666873414' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108540506254281153</id><published>2004-05-24T10:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-24T10:24:22.543-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A dor do partoO marido e a mulher foram ao hospital para ter um  bebe.Chegando lá, o médico disse que tinha  inventado uma máquina que dividiria as dores do parto entre os  pais.Perguntando se eles queriam experimentar o  novo invento, de pronto obteve aceitação do casal.O médico regulou a maquina para transferir somente 20% da dor para o pai, dizendo que seria o bastante, porque sendo um  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108540506254281153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108540506254281153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108540506254281153' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108540497678435859</id><published>2004-05-24T10:20:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-24T10:22:56.786-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sentença JudicialReprodução de documento autêntico de sentença, proferida pelo Juiz Manoel Fernandes dos Santos, em Vila de Porto da Folha, Sergipe, em 15 de outubro de 1833, portanto há 171 anos atrás. SENTENÇA JUDICIAL "O adjunto de promotor público, representando contra o cabra Manoel Duda, porque no dia 11 do mês de Nossa  Senhora Sant'Ana quando a mulher do Xico Bento ia para a fonte,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108540497678435859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108540497678435859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108540497678435859' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108484871661962284</id><published>2004-05-17T23:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:51:56.620-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sexo mortalA actividade sexual é fundamental para o bom equilíbrio físico, psíquico e emocional de todos nós. Mas também pode ser mortal:* Átila, rei dos Hunos: rebentou-lhe uma artéria enquanto fazia amor com a 12.ª esposa, na noite de núpcias.* O papa Leão VII (936-939): morreu de ataque cardíaco durante o acto sexual.* O papa João VII (955-964): foi morto pelo marido da amante, em pleno </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484871661962284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484871661962284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108484871661962284' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108484862925088886</id><published>2004-05-17T23:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:50:29.250-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Zé MineiroZé: Bença padre.Padre: Deus o abençoe meu filho.Zé: Padre, o Sr. lembra do João pintor?Padre: É claro meu filho.Zé: Pois é padre, o João veio a falecerPadre: Que pena, morreu de quê?Zé: Moro numa rua sem saída e minha casa é a última. Ele desceu com o carro e bateu no muro de casa.Padre: Coitado, morreu de acidente.Zé: Não, ele bateu com o carro e voou pela janela. Caiu dentro</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484862925088886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484862925088886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108484862925088886' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108484852959301126</id><published>2004-05-17T23:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:48:49.593-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Aula de HistóriaVamos ver se você está bem informado. Ao final, você vai entender o motivo. Complete o seguinte texto: "No dia ___ (a) de setembro de ____ (b) uma explosão destruiu_______ (c). A responsabilidade de tal ato não foi fixada com precisão até hoje, mas os ________(d) acusaram imediatamente a ______(e). A civilização ocidental está pronta para ser submetida a outra grande prova da</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484852959301126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484852959301126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108484852959301126' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108484833576709493</id><published>2004-05-17T23:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:45:35.766-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CulpaUm bêbado chega no bar e pede uma pinga. Do seu lado uma senhora distinta, querendo fazer uma reprimenda, diz: - O senhor sabia que o Brasil é o segundo pais do mundo em consumo de álcool?O bêbado responde: - É cullllpa desssses Crrrrrrrente. - Como culpa dos crentes? Os coitados nem sequer bebem álcool!- Innnnnntão, se elesss bebessssem um pouquinho, nóissss tava em prrrrrimero! </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484833576709493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484833576709493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108484833576709493' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108484829584819649</id><published>2004-05-17T23:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:44:55.846-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>InacreditávelNo jantar de premiação anual de ciências forenses, em 1994, o Presidente Dr. Don Harper Mills impressionou o público com as complicações legais de uma morte bizarra.Aqui está a história:Em 23 de março de 1994, o médico legista examinou o corpo de Ronald Opus e concluiu que a causa da morte fora um tiro de espingarada na cabeça.O sr. Opus pulara do alto de um prédio de 10 </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484829584819649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108484829584819649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108484829584819649' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108463935632113127</id><published>2004-05-15T13:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T13:42:36.323-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Indicador de Pião- Sair do "refeitório" com palito na boca (200pontos)- Dormir depois do almoço debruçado na mesa (400pts)- Chamar sua sala de meu escritório (250pts)- Levar fruta para o setor (100pts)- Ter armário (150pts)- Botar foto de artistas no armário (200pts)- Sair da firma com crachá pendurado (350pts)- Chamar empresa de firma (450pts)- Achar que o sindicato é seu aliado (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108463935632113127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108463935632113127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108463935632113127' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108463871286033451</id><published>2004-05-15T13:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T13:31:52.860-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>TorturaClique aqui para ver as fotos do Iraquianos sendo torturados... Guerra é guerra, mas não precisa.... Cenas fortes...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108463871286033451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108463871286033451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108463871286033451' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108463859967706462</id><published>2004-05-15T13:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T13:29:59.676-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Como voce se sairia desta?Um estagiário estava saindo do escritório quando ele vê o presidente da empresa com um documento na mão em frente a máquina de "picotar" papéis."Por favor, diz o presidente, isto é muito importante pra mim, e minha secretária já saiu. Você sabe como funciona esta máquina?""Lógico", responde o estagiário! Imediatamente tira o papel das mãos do presidente, liga a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108463859967706462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108463859967706462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108463859967706462' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108428203242652065</id><published>2004-05-11T10:26:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T10:27:12.426-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Email Walker</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428203242652065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428203242652065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108428203242652065' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108428198840838828</id><published>2004-05-11T10:26:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T10:26:28.406-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Prudência</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428198840838828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428198840838828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108428198840838828' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108428195598158169</id><published>2004-05-11T10:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T10:25:55.980-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Aprenda chinês</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428195598158169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428195598158169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108428195598158169' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108428154369568337</id><published>2004-05-11T10:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T10:24:30.446-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Você bebeu hoje?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428154369568337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428154369568337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108428154369568337' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108428103325366636</id><published>2004-05-11T10:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-11T10:10:33.253-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Casamento- Mamãe, Mamãe. Porque a noiva está vestido de branco?- Porquê é o momento mais feliz da vida dela, meu filho!- Ah!!... E porque o noivo está vestido de preto?- Cala a boca e presta atenção no casamento, menino!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428103325366636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108428103325366636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108428103325366636' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108411132475220697</id><published>2004-05-09T11:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T11:05:20.966-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SashaTodo mundo sabe que a filha da Xuxa com o Luciano Szafir chama-se Sasha. Mas... e se fosse com o Pelé? - Grasha. (ótima!) E se fosse com o Senna? - Rasha. (ahahah perfeita!) E se fosse com o Antonio Erminio de Morais? - Ricasha. E se fosse com o Presidente da Tostines? - Bolasha. E se fosse com a Marlene? - Masha. E se fosse com o Ratinho? - Escrasha. E se fosse com o Jacare </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108411132475220697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108411132475220697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108411132475220697' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108411119951748360</id><published>2004-05-09T10:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T11:03:14.950-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Reflexão"Quando alguém tenta te machucar, humilhar, desmotivar e desprezar, não te intimides! Este alguém te enxerga como a denúncia viva e clara dos limites dele."(Matuto)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108411119951748360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108411119951748360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108411119951748360' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108410980959206456</id><published>2004-05-09T10:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T10:40:05.326-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sinceridade nas vendasEsta pequena história demonstra a importância de se ter um diálogo honesto com os clientes.Uma senhora entra em uma concessionária Mercedes. Ela olha ao redor, então acha o carro perfeito e começa a examiná-lo.  Ao inclinar-se para ver se tinha revestimento de couro, deixa escapar um sonoro  peido. Muito envergonhada, ela nervosamente dá uma olhada para ver se alguém  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108410980959206456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108410980959206456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108410980959206456' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108410949646287431</id><published>2004-05-09T10:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T10:37:24.060-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>OrkutVocê já está no Orkut?? Eu já estou....</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108410949646287431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108410949646287431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108410949646287431' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108375950336380505</id><published>2004-05-05T09:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T09:21:35.390-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Na UTIA mulher estava em coma na UTI, e as enfermeiras lhe davam banho. Quando uma delas lavava sua região genital, ambas notaram uma pequena reação no gráfico do monitor de sinais vitais. Foram então ao marido, explicaram o que aconteceu e lhe disseram:- Pode parecer loucura, mas, talvez um pouco de sexo oral possa trazê-la de volta do coma.O marido permanecia cético, mas elas tanto </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108375950336380505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108375950336380505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108375950336380505' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108375944883515782</id><published>2004-05-05T09:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T09:20:40.873-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Receita MédicaUma mulher entra em uma farmácia e pede:- Por favor quero comprar arsênico.- Qual a finalidade?- Matar meu marido!!- Infelizmente não posso vender para este fim.A mulher abre a bolsa e tira uma fotografia do marido transando com a mulher do farmacêutico.- Oh, não sabia que a senhora tinha receita!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108375944883515782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108375944883515782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108375944883515782' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108367729226087581</id><published>2004-05-04T10:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T10:30:55.686-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Concurso da rádioEssa aconteceu na rádio lá de Sorocaba ! (Rádio Comunitária 97,1 FM de Sorocaba) Locutor: Quem ligar agora e fizer uma frase com uma palavra que não exista no dicionário ganha duas entradas para o cinema. Alo! Quem é! Ouvinte: Sergio, do Jardim Magnólia. Locutor: Olá Sergio... Já conhece a brincadeira? Qual a sua palavra? Ouvinte: Ah! A palavra é vaice! Locutor: Vaice? </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108367729226087581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108367729226087581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108367729226087581' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3081291.post-108367702422283603</id><published>2004-05-04T10:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T10:26:27.700-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Lição de Direito ComercialO cara chegou, com uma lindíssima mulher na joalheria Tiffanys e foi logo comprando uma jóia de R$ 500 mil reais para ela, pagando a conta com um cheque. O vendedor ficou meio preocupado, pois era a primeira vez que via aquele cliente . O cliente foi logo dizendo : - Vejo que você está pensando que o cheque pode não ter fundos, não é? Pois tudo bem. Vamos fazer o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108367702422283603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3081291/posts/default/108367702422283603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jabbur.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108367702422283603' title=''/><author><name>Big Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799327732379780043</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
