<?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-8771238254136098607</id><updated>2011-11-28T01:21:20.765+02:00</updated><category term='&quot;simplu&quot;'/><category term='una pe zi'/><category term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><category term='rrrrumbaaa'/><title type='text'>sterp</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>187</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4782891648862794494</id><published>2011-10-04T18:01:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T18:02:04.458+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>test est st. gata testul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4782891648862794494?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4782891648862794494/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4782891648862794494' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4782891648862794494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4782891648862794494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2011/10/test-est-st.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-9115983078085890201</id><published>2011-02-17T14:06:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T14:09:13.832+02:00</updated><title type='text'>nu femeii</title><content type='html'>nu-nteleg si pace. cum pula mea poa' sa spuna cineva: "oriunde te-ai duce, orice ai face eu voi fi aici, asteptandu-te"? cat de dobitoc tre' sa fii sa gandesti asa? m-am saturat de prostii care spun: "sunt un romantic incurabil!". coaie, esti fix pula. da-mi voie sa te pun la curent cu starea ta actuala: esti un cretin. un cretin care nu e-n stare sa puna cardanu' la uda. si chestia cu iubirea... hai da-o-n pula mea! ia zi, cum suna: "te iubesc, dar nu esti ceea ce am nevoie acum..." bai, nu iubi femeia! ceea ce trebuie sa iubesti e fix pasarica, perechea de tate, curuletu' ala maricel, dar nu femeia. nu merita... dobitoc sinistru...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-9115983078085890201?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/9115983078085890201/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=9115983078085890201' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/9115983078085890201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/9115983078085890201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2011/02/nu-femeii.html' title='nu femeii'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4291539078076268599</id><published>2010-12-31T14:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T14:45:57.575+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rrrrumbaaa'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a fost un an bun pe alocuri, un an si mai bun din cand in cand, si un an nasol din foarte multe punce de vedere. in rest, zilele au trecut degeaba. eu, personal, sunt tare multumit ca traiesc si, culmea culmilor, sunt si sanatos (fizic, cel putin). am avut ocazia sa ratez sfarsitul asta de an. uite ca n-am profitat de ocazie si, pe de o parte, ma bucur ca acum am la ce sa ma raportez atunci cand simt ca viata-i de cacat. uite ca nu e de cacat. viata este si asta nu poate decat sa ma bucure. la multi ani tuturor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4291539078076268599?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4291539078076268599/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4291539078076268599' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4291539078076268599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4291539078076268599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/12/fost-un-bun-pe-alocuri-un-si-mai-bun.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-682640146568504096</id><published>2010-06-23T10:09:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T10:14:43.204+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cand ai totul ce ti-ai mai putea dori?! probabil sa stii cum este sa ai nimic. dar doar pentru o clipa. cand ai totul, nimic e mult prea mult pentru a-l avea...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-682640146568504096?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/682640146568504096/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=682640146568504096' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/682640146568504096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/682640146568504096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/06/cand-ai-totul-ce-ti-ai-mai-putea-dori.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4679591174265765585</id><published>2010-05-10T08:15:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T08:27:40.778+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>am avut o copilarie... interesanta, pot spune. am crescut intrun cartier mic in care toata lumea cunostea pe toata lumea. cel putin "din vedere". ma gandesc la faptul ca am fost un mare norocos din punctul asta de vedere. stiu oameni care nu cunosteau decat persoanele "de pe scara" si erau legati de zona din fata scarii respective (n-aveau voie sa iasa-n strada ca poate dadea vreo masina peste ei). oamenii astia traiau in marile si minunatele cartiere ale bucurestiului. cacat. ideea e ca de dimineata pana seara batatoream maidanul, curtea liceului, terasa lui "C9", depozitul, dacia, cresa, generala, depoul si, mai tarziu, cand am invatat doua acorduri, podul si "baneasa" si terasa tutti. de dimineata pana seara, tarziu. am stat in casa tot w-e. si m-am deprimat. am devenit sedentar. mi-e somn tot timpul si n-am chef de nimic. pula mea, in curand o sa-mi iau un scaun cu role sa ma deplasez prin casa c-o sa-mi fie lene sa si merg!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4679591174265765585?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4679591174265765585/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4679591174265765585' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4679591174265765585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4679591174265765585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/05/am-avut-o-copilarie.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4693420983745294578</id><published>2010-05-05T16:39:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T16:54:13.103+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ca exista dureri mai mari decat ale mele ar trebui sa ma faca sa ma simt mai bine? poate. asta, daca nu m-as gandi: frate, ok, fiecare are durerile lui. nu pot simti ce simte altcineva. ce este cu adevarat dureros?! faptul ca EXISTA atata durere... pula mea, e greu sa fii sfant. e greu sa simti greutatea INTREGII lumi pe ganduri, sa vezi atat de bine durerea in cineva incat sa te doara aproape fizic. pula mea, te ia plansul. si lacrimile astea de cacat ineaca durerea, te ajuta sa te obisnuiesti cu ea. si acum avansezi la nivelul urmator, se muta limita la care simti durerea putin mai sus pe scara de evaluare. i se spune dezumanizare. pe dracu'! este cea mai umana chestie posibila sa te adaptezi la mediu, oricare ar fi mediul ala. pula mea, in cazul asta, mai merita sa-ncerci sa atingi conditia de om? nu mai bine ramai animal, asa, ca un copil?! animal, insa inocent. da, si naiv.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4693420983745294578?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4693420983745294578/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4693420983745294578' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4693420983745294578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4693420983745294578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/05/ca-exista-dureri-mai-mari-decat-ale.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3919006951281169572</id><published>2010-04-26T09:36:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T09:41:14.731+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>este minunat sa traiesti in romania! unde altundeva poti trai fiecare zi ca si cum ar fi ultima? unde altundeva, atunci cand intri in spital pentru o chestie marunta, astepti sa vezi cu ce iesi de-acolo: cu o infectie marunta, cu salvarea, cu dricul!?! in tara asta macar nu mori de plictiseala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3919006951281169572?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3919006951281169572/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3919006951281169572' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3919006951281169572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3919006951281169572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/04/este-minunat-sa-traiesti-in-romania.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2129828382577338163</id><published>2010-04-20T13:56:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T14:00:45.300+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Batut in cap cucuiul glont,&lt;br /&gt;Ciocan intors spre infinit, sau minus?&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiu. Galben? Bani? Toamna?&lt;br /&gt;Alb usier identifica Universul particular.&lt;br /&gt;Eu stau cu spatele in fata intrarii&lt;br /&gt;iesirea e in cascada de cristal&lt;br /&gt;De pe livreaua usierului&lt;br /&gt;Albl la randul lui&lt;br /&gt;De spuma marii din cascada.&lt;br /&gt;Ma indrept, de spate si cu adanca plecaciune.&lt;br /&gt;Ma indrept de gand intors nefiresc cu urechea stanga inspre sudul cascadei.&lt;br /&gt;Cazand in versul Universului&lt;br /&gt;deschis doar pentru acea parte din mine &lt;br /&gt;care viseaza sa se trezeasca &lt;br /&gt;inconjurata de ciresi pe malurile unui rau de esenta luminoasa&lt;br /&gt;care ma imbata de rece in Nirvana." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bun. acuma... poa' sa-mi zica si mie careva: CE PANA ME ii asta???!!!???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2129828382577338163?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2129828382577338163/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2129828382577338163' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2129828382577338163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2129828382577338163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/04/batut-in-cap-cucuiul-glont-ciocan.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5138770865913739193</id><published>2010-04-19T11:30:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T11:32:35.181+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>dupa un w-e cu capul in nori am coborat -in sfarsit- cu picioarele pe pamant. norul asta de cenusa vulcanica are si un plus: mi-a colorat firele albe de par...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5138770865913739193?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5138770865913739193/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5138770865913739193' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5138770865913739193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5138770865913739193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/04/dupa-un-w-e-cu-capul-in-nori-am-coborat.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5397233500211731583</id><published>2010-04-15T10:04:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T10:09:13.114+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>am iesit sa-mi iau o bere. aseara. privirea intoarsa inspre interior. afara, puleti si curvistine. asfalt si masini. nimic de vazut. nu stiu de ce, dar am intors privirea si am plimbat-o pe-afara: copaci verzi, tufisuri verzi. PRIMAVARA. am zambit, mi-am purtat mana peste frunze. am zambit. m-am uitat la degete. pline de praf. praf negru. m-am futut pe el de zambet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/zott/fb2345433d6321.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="durataAudio=194&amp;titluEmbed=SEMNAL%20%20M.%20%20-%20%20PRIMAVARA%20%20ROMANEASCA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/zott/fb2345433d6321.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="55" FlashVars="durataAudio=194&amp;titluEmbed=SEMNAL%20%20M.%20%20-%20%20PRIMAVARA%20%20ROMANEASCA"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trilulilu.ro/audio/Muzica" title="Muzica"&gt;Asculta mai multe audio Muzica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5397233500211731583?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5397233500211731583/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5397233500211731583' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5397233500211731583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5397233500211731583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/04/am-iesit-sa-mi-iau-o-bere.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-195120869571812952</id><published>2010-01-29T14:09:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T14:09:33.695+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>in concluzie: he is (well, was) DA SHIT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed width="450" height="366" src="http://www.220.ro/emb/jreVe2kOKN&amp;from=aWduYXRpb2RlbG95b2xh" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-195120869571812952?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/195120869571812952/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=195120869571812952' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/195120869571812952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/195120869571812952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-concluzie-he-is-well-was-da-shit.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3689616564039264268</id><published>2010-01-21T10:56:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T10:56:34.652+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>DECI, DA-MA DRACULUI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--copy and paste--&gt;&lt;object width="446" height="326"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="bgColor" value="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="vu=http://video.ted.com/talks/dynamic/PranavMistry_2009I-medium.flv&amp;su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/PranavMistry-2009I.embed_thumbnail.jpg&amp;vw=432&amp;vh=240&amp;ap=0&amp;ti=685&amp;introDuration=16500&amp;adDuration=4000&amp;postAdDuration=2000&amp;adKeys=talk=pranav_mistry_the_thrilling_potential_of_sixthsense_tec;year=2009;theme=the_creative_spark;theme=what_s_next_in_tech;theme=new_on_ted_com;theme=ted_under_30;theme=design_like_you_give_a_damn;theme=tales_of_invention;theme=a_taste_of_tedindia;event=TEDIndia+2009;&amp;preAdTag=tconf.ted/embed;tile=1;sz=512x288;" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf" pluginspace="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" bgColor="#ffffff" width="446" height="326" allowFullScreen="true" flashvars="vu=http://video.ted.com/talks/dynamic/PranavMistry_2009I-medium.flv&amp;su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/PranavMistry-2009I.embed_thumbnail.jpg&amp;vw=432&amp;vh=240&amp;ap=0&amp;ti=685&amp;introDuration=16500&amp;adDuration=4000&amp;postAdDuration=2000&amp;adKeys=talk=pranav_mistry_the_thrilling_potential_of_sixthsense_tec;year=2009;theme=the_creative_spark;theme=what_s_next_in_tech;theme=new_on_ted_com;theme=ted_under_30;theme=design_like_you_give_a_damn;theme=tales_of_invention;theme=a_taste_of_tedindia;event=TEDIndia+2009;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3689616564039264268?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3689616564039264268/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3689616564039264268' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3689616564039264268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3689616564039264268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/01/deci-da-ma-dracului.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1292634867349075589</id><published>2010-01-12T14:29:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T14:32:05.323+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>din categoria "o fotografie poate spune cat pot spune o mie de cuvinte":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S0xrgZq1vII/AAAAAAAAA3E/QaoBjzCulzQ/s1600-h/I%27ll_Miss_You_Dad_by_Cecilio_M__Ricardo_Jr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S0xrgZq1vII/AAAAAAAAA3E/QaoBjzCulzQ/s320/I%27ll_Miss_You_Dad_by_Cecilio_M__Ricardo_Jr.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425829855465159810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1292634867349075589?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1292634867349075589/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1292634867349075589' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1292634867349075589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1292634867349075589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/01/din-categoria-o-fotografie-poate-spune.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S0xrgZq1vII/AAAAAAAAA3E/QaoBjzCulzQ/s72-c/I%27ll_Miss_You_Dad_by_Cecilio_M__Ricardo_Jr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3251175766325403216</id><published>2010-01-11T13:37:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T13:41:24.236+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fuck YEAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-sMWTqUuSh4&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-sMWTqUuSh4&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3251175766325403216?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3251175766325403216/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3251175766325403216' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3251175766325403216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3251175766325403216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/01/fuck-yeah.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4286400709354409631</id><published>2010-01-04T13:17:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T13:18:08.272+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>anul asta e de proba: douazecizece, douazecizece, proba de an.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4286400709354409631?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4286400709354409631/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4286400709354409631' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4286400709354409631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4286400709354409631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2010/01/anul-asta-e-de-proba-douazecizece.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7924576833540825685</id><published>2009-12-03T13:43:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T13:43:13.623+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='una pe zi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dă-mi cupa şi ulciorul! Să bem, fermecătoare&lt;br /&gt;Făptură plămădită din rouă şi eter!&lt;br /&gt;Câte minuni ca tine zeflemitorul cer&lt;br /&gt;De mii de ori schimbat-a în cupe şi ulcioare?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7924576833540825685?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7924576833540825685/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7924576833540825685' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7924576833540825685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7924576833540825685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/12/da-mi-cupa-si-ulciorul-sa-bem.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7621252657123555520</id><published>2009-12-02T09:10:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T09:12:05.824+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='una pe zi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Avui vestiţi maeştri. Făcusem mari progrese. &lt;br /&gt;Cînd mi-amintesc savantul ce-am fost, azi îl compar&lt;br /&gt;Cu apa ce ia forma impusă de pahar&lt;br /&gt;Şi fumu-n care vîntul năluci ciudate ţese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7621252657123555520?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7621252657123555520/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7621252657123555520' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7621252657123555520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7621252657123555520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/12/avui-vestiti-maestri.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5208924425026191033</id><published>2009-11-30T15:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T15:27:42.172+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ma deplasam azi-dimineata-nspre serviciu. in drumul meu zilnic (de luni pana vineri, exceptand sarbatorile legale si zilele de concediu, deci nu chiar zilnic, mot-a-mot) trec prin pasajul urinii. astazi, mai liber decat de obicei. atat de liber incat in pasaj eram eu, in fata mea la mare distanta o dacie logan, in spate... niste unii tare departe. dacia din fata ajunge in curba de la jumatatea pasajului si trece printro mare balta. ma uit la vitezometru, 100. ma uit repede in stanga, nicio masina, "iau" banda continua intre roti si ma reped si eu inspre balta. masina vruuum de cur in stanga, apoi in dreapta. singurul gand: accelereaza! si accelerez. ies din pasaj cu 130, cu un zambet larg pe fata si cu gandul: "frate, a fost fix ca-n NFS!". atunci mi-am dat seama ca nu am dormit destul si ca exista posibilitatea sa fiu putin obosit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;urinii e de fapt unirii. vroiam doar sa stiu daca e valabil studiul ala cu ordinea literelor in cuvant: http://www.juridice.ro/forum/viewtopic.php?f=27&amp;t=2137&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5208924425026191033?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5208924425026191033/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5208924425026191033' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5208924425026191033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5208924425026191033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/ma-deplasam-azi-dimineata-nspre.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8986374687710122648</id><published>2009-11-30T09:39:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T09:39:45.605+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='una pe zi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mă dojeniţi că veşnic sunt beat. Ei  bine, sunt!&lt;br /&gt;Necredincios mă faceţi. Şi ce dacă-i aşa?&lt;br /&gt;Puteţi orice să spuneţi pe socoteala mea.&lt;br /&gt;Îmi aparţin. Pricepeţi? Şi sunt ceea ce sunt!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8986374687710122648?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8986374687710122648/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8986374687710122648' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8986374687710122648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8986374687710122648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/ma-dojeniti-ca-vesnic-sunt-beat.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6347147813054683698</id><published>2009-11-27T16:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T16:25:51.052+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sw_haYxABYI/AAAAAAAAA28/yN7BvLCs2mY/s1600/voteaza+pe....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 159px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sw_haYxABYI/AAAAAAAAA28/yN7BvLCs2mY/s320/voteaza+pe....jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408789520936076674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6347147813054683698?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6347147813054683698/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6347147813054683698' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6347147813054683698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6347147813054683698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sw_haYxABYI/AAAAAAAAA28/yN7BvLCs2mY/s72-c/voteaza+pe....jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7949987696958616525</id><published>2009-11-27T11:32:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T11:41:50.299+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>oamenii exista doar pentru a fi manevrati, spun unii. altii spun ca oamenii exista doar pentru a nu fi singuri pe lumea asta si pentru a avea cu cine sa impartasim... sa impartasim ce ne vine pe chelie. adevarul este ca cele doua afirmatii sunt perfect adevarate, impreuna cu inca zeci pe langa. adevarul este ca oamenii exista si punct. cum are fiecare de gand sa se impace cu ideea asta, e treaba lui. cum are fiecare de gand sa trateze treaba asta, e iar problema lui. indiferent de ceea ce spera fiecare, de ceea ce isi doreste fiecare, de cele de care fuge fiecare, oamenii exista. afirmatia asta este inteleasa de fiecare dupa cum il taie capul, dupa starea pe care o are in momentul in care o aude sau o citeste, dupa multe multe multe altele. eu o inteleg intrun anumit fel acum. tocmai de aia m-am simtit obligat sa afirm adevarul asta. pentru ca simt ca oamenii exista. si, din pacate, oamenii exista in sensul rau al afirmatiei...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7949987696958616525?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7949987696958616525/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7949987696958616525' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7949987696958616525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7949987696958616525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/oamenii-exista-doar-pentru-fi-manevrati.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2470129895031736216</id><published>2009-11-27T08:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T08:30:14.933+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='una pe zi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Un om prin lume trece. El nu e musulman.&lt;br /&gt;Nici infidel nu este. Nu crede-n legi şi zei. &lt;br /&gt;Nu neagă, nu afirmă. Dar vezi în ochii săi &lt;br /&gt;Că nimenea nu este mai trist şi mai uman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2470129895031736216?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2470129895031736216/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2470129895031736216' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2470129895031736216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2470129895031736216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/un-om-prin-lume-trece.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3985482091148822735</id><published>2009-11-19T15:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T15:26:17.373+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cu ghilimele:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop. Rewind. Stop. Play: “… unt mult mai multe. Nu intel…”. Ii vad buzele framantandu-se, pometii albi si ascutiti, sprancenele adunate la baza nasului intro-ncruntare care este deja el. Ii ghicesc ochii in spatele lentilelor heliomate, doua sfere acoperind orbite goale si atat, fiind acolo doar pentru ca oamenii sa nu se sperie. Privesc peste umarul lui, mimez privirea in gol asa cum mimez de mult, prea mult timp orgasmul. Daca as privi pe langa ureche si-ar da seama ca sunetele pe care le scuipa unul dupa altul nu ajung la mine, se sparg in spatiul dintre noi. Masa asta rotunda este atat de reala si scaunul asta si oamenii meselor si scaunelor din jur. Tine tigara de parca ar fi o prelungire a degetelor, a corpului. Pause: Imi aduc aminte cum tinea tigara la inceput: delicat, de parca si-ar fi strivit degetele daca o strangea mai tare, tot corpul era imprejurul tigarii, el se misca, exista in functie de tigara. Asa e cu toti la inceput… pana cand tigara devine obisnuinta. Play:  de ce nu pot sa mai vad stralucirea din el? De ce vad doar picatura aia de sudoare care se prelinge pe tampla si lasa o dara stralucitoare in urma? Si dosul palmei sterge picatura. Si lasa in urma urme de praf amestecat cu sudoare, umbre cenusii pe tample… Nu se poate! Iar a uitat sa-si taie-o unghie! Nu-mi vine sa cred! La inceput, da, era amuzant, parea un copil neajutorat. Acum nu mai e. Si gesticulatia, mimica fetei si a intregului corp… Incerc sa-mi aduc aminte de ce. De ce el si nu altul. Trebuie sa fi fost ceva la mijloc. Nu zic, are si parti bune insa astazi, mai mult ca oricand, partile astea bune refuza sa mi se dezvaluie… Oare ce floare este aia din ghiveciul din spatele lui? Sa nu uit sa intreb atunci cand plecam. Cand plecam… Parca nu i se mai termina berea… Si vorbeste, vorbeste intr-una. Oare ma mai asculta?!? Nici macar nu mai observa plictiseala de pe fata mea. Si pantofii astia ma strang in fata. S-or mai lasa dupa doua-trei purtari… Chiar atat de greu le este sa spele mai bine paharele? Macar daca nu ar mai sorbi atat de zgomotos. E… deranjant. Vad in ochii barbatilor pe langa care trec pe strazi ca inca sunt o femeie dorita. Atunci? Care este problema? O femeie dorita. Pai e de ajuns sa bea o bere si dorinta zvacneste in vintrele oricarui barbat. Sunt atat de simpli! Se uita in ochii mei si totusi nu ii vede. Inainte vreme aveam cei mai frumosi ochi din intregul Univers. Bine ca nu mi-a zis ca am ochii ca stelele. M-as fi simtit proasta ca noptea… Da. Asta trebuie sa fie: exista un timp in care, pentru el, cei mai frumosi ochi din Univers erau ochii mei. Da, ma vad dorita la tot pasul. Insa nu ma mai simt frumoasa... Si eram cea mai frumoasa, asa imi spunea. Eram cea mai frumoasa. Ma amuz si acum cand ma gandesc cum acoperea fereastra cu draperiile si disperarea i se simtea in soapte atunci cand imi spunea: “Repede, sa acoperim geamurile, sa blocam usa, sa lasam intuneric. Repede, sa nu te vada stelele, luna, cerul pentru ca te-ar vrea pentru ele, te-ar cere pentru ele sa le inveti, sa le arati ce inseamna frumusetea! Repede. Nu, tu stai acolo, tu nu te misca, nu le atrage atentia. Repede!” Cine e omul din fata mea si ce vrea de la mine? Ce mai vrea de la mine? Vrea DE la mine. Nu ma mai vrea PE mine… Cine esti tu, strain asudat caruia degetele ii put a tutun? Cine esti tu, strain invins care vorbesti cuvinte goale? Ce esti tu, necunoscut absolut? De ce stam la aceeasi masa? Vrei sa mergem impreuna. Vei vrea sa mergem impreuna inspre casa, te vei aseza in acelasi nenorocit de fotoliu cu arcurile rupte, cu tapiteria roasa, imbacsit de miros de tutun, vei pune mana pe telecomanda si vei da televizorul la maximum pentru ca deja nu mai auzi bine si imi vei parea atunci cel mai mare dusman pe care-l poate avea omenirea. Te voi vedea ghemuit acolo, in fotoliu, privind concentrat la ecranul ala luminat care mie nu-mi mai spune nimic, inconjurat de zgomot asurzitor, asa, ca un Zeu al Nenorocirii si Nenorocului, Zeu care a venit pentru a sta. Tu nu vezi ca umbra fotoliului tau a ajuns sa ma acopere, nu ma mai lasa sa respir, ma garboveste cu greutatea ei?!? Barbatul meu! Tu, care esti stapanul meu, tu, care ar trebui sa fii acolo, sa-ti pui pieptul inaintea tuturor pericolelor care ma cauta, ma gasesc, ma cer, tu, cel ce ma iubeste, tu, cel ce ma stie, tu, cel pentru care sunt frumoasa si umila si vipera si vrabie si curva si inocenta, tu, adoratul meu care ma adora! Tu nu vezi cocoasa care-mi creste, care ma apropie pe zi ce trece cu pieptul de pamant, cu ochii de pamant, cu mintea de pamant? Tu nu o vezi? Pentru ca eu o simt… Iti simt tristetea cristalizata in sufletul impietrit. Stiu, stiu ca te vroiai cel mai mare, numai pentru mine. Stiu ca atunci cand credeai ca dorm, te uitai la chipul meu si vedeam printre gene cum pe fata ta cresteau gandurile negre ale nedevenirii, neimplinirii. Stiu ca te-a durut atat de tare, atat de tare! Dar de ce nu vezi cata nevoie am de tine? De ce nu vrei sa vezi? NU TU ESTI TOTUL! Daca tu simti ca nu esti asa cum ai fi vrut sa fii PENTRU MINE, eu te vreau asa cum erai, asa cum ma simteai, asa te vreau… Pe cine incerc sa mint? Nici macar nu te mai vreau. Am ajuns sa vreau sa ma am pe mine… Mi-e scarba de noi dar cel mai scarba imi este de mine. Poate ca nu este vina toata numai a ta. Poate si eu sunt vinovata ca nu am stiut sa te fac sa ma faci sa ma simt frumoasa. Acum e prea tarziu. Nu cred ca mai vreau asa ceva. Oare care ar fi primul tau gest si primul tau cuvant daca m-as ridica de la masa si m-as agata de bratul primului barbat mai bine care va trece pe langa noi? Eu gandesc asa despre tine. Tu? Tu ce gandesti despre mine? Macar gandesti despre mine? Te-am visat orb. Te-am visat orb, cautandu-ma dupa miros. Si am visat ca atunci cand imi simteai mirosul muschii fetei tale se relaxau inspre usurare. Exact ca un animal care se bazeaza mai mult pe miros decat pe alte simturi.  Desi erai orb, simteam cum te iubesc mai mult. Simteam cum te iubesc mai mult pentru ca imi spuneai: “stii, te-am vazut frumoasa. Stiu ca esti frumoasa. Desi nu mai vad te vad in mintea mea si te vad asa, cu soare in par, cu sarat pe buze, cu mare pe bratele rosii, cu sani plini si elastici, cu coapse arcuite inspre infinituri. Desi nu mai vad, te descopar acum in zeci, sute, mii de miresme. Stiai ca locul acela mic din spatele lobului urechii are un miros diferit de cel al umarului tau? Nu? Da. Are.” Te visez orb. Stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inchid ghilimelele&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3985482091148822735?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3985482091148822735/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3985482091148822735' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3985482091148822735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3985482091148822735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/cu-ghilimele-stop.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1069350996906085372</id><published>2009-11-17T10:24:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T10:26:35.808+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>daca in Londra au aprins deja luminile de Craciun, imi permit si eu sa visez la:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ddVZOK_9UUI&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ddVZOK_9UUI&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1069350996906085372?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1069350996906085372/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1069350996906085372' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1069350996906085372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1069350996906085372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/11/daca-in-londra-au-aprins-deja-luminile.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5723190453352215871</id><published>2009-10-28T10:35:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T10:37:28.830+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>estem in campanie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="505"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QHpVTgX2kRQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QHpVTgX2kRQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="505"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5723190453352215871?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5723190453352215871/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5723190453352215871' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5723190453352215871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5723190453352215871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/slogane-de-campanie.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7112736474477322044</id><published>2009-10-26T10:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T10:32:14.786+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>totul a inceput cand mi s-a oferit crochiul. mi s-a spus: "iata! mai departe te descurci singur." si am inceput sa evidentiez anumite linii, sa acopar altele... mai dificil a fost cand am inceput sa folosesc culorile. sunt barbat, drept urmare nu am inteles chiar tot timpul ce culoare ar fi trebuit sa folosesc. la dracu', ce-nseamna "roz mountbatten"??? drept urmare, am folosit culori simple: gri, negru, uneori si putin rosu. una peste alta, a iesit interesant. poate ca ar trebui sa folosesc si putin galben, dar nu suport culoarea galbena. important este ca liniile erau trasate in momentul in care am inceput. si nici nu m-a dus mintea sa intorc foaia, sa incep pe curat, pe alb...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7112736474477322044?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7112736474477322044/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7112736474477322044' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7112736474477322044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7112736474477322044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/totul-inceput-cand-mi-s-oferit-crochiul.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1347449146852752210</id><published>2009-10-21T13:29:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T13:31:20.835+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>am primit un premiu! da', nu stiu pe unde e. mi l-a dat &lt;a href="http://evaziv.blogspot.com/"&gt;EvA&lt;/a&gt; (careia ii multumesc pe aceasta cale). e', l-oi gasi eu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1347449146852752210?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1347449146852752210/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1347449146852752210' title='10 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1347449146852752210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1347449146852752210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/am-primit-un-premiu-da-nu-stiu-pe-unde.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1876924542402064015</id><published>2009-10-19T15:55:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:59:05.040+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sunt 2 lucruri care ma vor mira intotdeauna:&lt;br /&gt;1. de ce le place femeilor sa se lase mintite si&lt;br /&gt;2. de ce sunt barbatii atat de prosti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. stiu si ele ca nu sunt cele mai frumoase, cele mai destepte, cele mai luna si soarele si stelele si norii si marea si muntele si vesnic si etern si pana la sfarsitul lumii si al universului si totusi... "cad" in plasa asta.&lt;br /&gt;2. ATAT de prosti incat stiu ca mint de-ngheata apele, dar ajung sa creada ei insisi in ceea ce spun.&lt;br /&gt;vai Doamne! nu pot sa-nteleg si pace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1876924542402064015?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1876924542402064015/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1876924542402064015' title='15 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1876924542402064015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1876924542402064015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/sunt-2-lucruri-care-ma-vor-mira.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1142336013997524162</id><published>2009-10-15T09:28:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T09:59:28.347+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>iat-o leapsa interesanta, preluata de la &lt;a href="http://vanatordepovesti.wordpress.com/2009/10/14/leapsa-pe-oua-sau-pe-coco/"&gt;vanator de povesti&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deci:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. alifantis - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbT-9_mdx8c"&gt;emotie de toamna&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. cargo - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmmDs60ElO4&amp;feature=related"&gt;clasa muncitoare&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. nirvana - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xHl-P_arVA&amp;feature=fvw"&gt;where did you sleep last night&lt;/a&gt; (desi nu e a lor, o canta mai bine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. metallica - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhryYbyTZ2M"&gt;the unforgiven&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. iron maiden - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28GaKoCuobU"&gt;fear of the dark&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. metallica - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hW1rshtHwJ8&amp;feature=fvst"&gt;until it sleeps&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. REM - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eB3VTX0pxoE"&gt;losing my religion&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Tudor Gheorghe - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnGpSSfKMkk"&gt;Marie, Marie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Celelalte cuvinte - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FowNI1QRfg"&gt;Un sfarsit e un inceput&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Nazareth - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2BjJbKQkgc"&gt;Love hurts&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asta asaa, la o prima strigare, fara timp de gandire. daca se doreste, leapsa asta interesanta poate fi luata si data mai departe. (uite-asa ne mai aducem aminte de unele momente chiar frumoase).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;categoria folk e slab reprezentata pentru ca este o pozitie in sine. deci,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. folk&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1142336013997524162?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1142336013997524162/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1142336013997524162' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1142336013997524162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1142336013997524162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/iat-o-leapsa-interesanta-preluata-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-573462914088956228</id><published>2009-10-12T16:10:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T16:20:24.682+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>zilele s-au asezat de-a curmezisul. acum arata ca iiiiiiii-ul ala din biip-biip-biip-biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii(i). un gand s-a asezat de-a curmezisul. tic-mississippi-tac-mississippi-tic-mississippi-tac-mississippi-tic-mississippi-tac-mississippi-pauza-pauza-pauza. doar un gand. el singur cel mai puternic. vruum-vruum in fum se pierd zilele de liniste. vin zile linistite dar lipsite de liniste. tii-tii auzi claxonul. "fereste!" striga bunul-simt "fereste ca n-are frane!" dar esti in momentul acela etern care se-ntinde dincolo de ratiune si dincolo de eveniment. cacat&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-573462914088956228?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/573462914088956228/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=573462914088956228' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/573462914088956228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/573462914088956228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/zilele-s-au-asezat-de-curmezisul.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4851618275607669213</id><published>2009-10-05T10:08:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:09:45.665+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>deci, iata o metoda minunata de a trece mai departe: domn'le, io sunt cel ce pleaca pentru ca, na, ma plictisesc. HA! (solo-ul este. si atat. doar, este!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CkTQUtx818w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CkTQUtx818w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4851618275607669213?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4851618275607669213/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4851618275607669213' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4851618275607669213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4851618275607669213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/10/deci-iata-o-metoda-minunata-de-trece.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-9123707491794037595</id><published>2009-09-03T09:37:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T09:38:38.629+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ce si-a zis omu'?!: mai da-le-n pula mea de metafore si cacaturi de genul asta. luati de-aici, pe bune:&lt;br /&gt;(si le-a zis pe bune)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2bjqYPH7rAo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2bjqYPH7rAo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-9123707491794037595?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/9123707491794037595/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=9123707491794037595' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/9123707491794037595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/9123707491794037595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/09/ce-si-zis-omu-mai-da-le-n-pula-mea-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2091646032048555656</id><published>2009-09-02T17:04:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T17:05:19.782+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>si una pe sufletelul meu:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mAOJw6IN2lg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mAOJw6IN2lg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2091646032048555656?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2091646032048555656/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2091646032048555656' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2091646032048555656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2091646032048555656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/09/si-una-pe-sufletelul-meu.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7800269504731826091</id><published>2009-09-02T15:40:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T15:42:13.830+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nu ma pot decide intre original:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PhOc0V-ES40&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PhOc0V-ES40&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si "cover":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kEDN3YXTXU4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kEDN3YXTXU4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m-am decis:&lt;br /&gt;ambele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7800269504731826091?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7800269504731826091/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7800269504731826091' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7800269504731826091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7800269504731826091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/09/nu-ma-pot-decide-intre-original-si.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4694954176140867433</id><published>2009-09-01T10:29:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T10:29:34.252+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>apele linistite sunt adanci, da' adanci rau! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JdxkVQy7QLM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JdxkVQy7QLM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4694954176140867433?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4694954176140867433/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4694954176140867433' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4694954176140867433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4694954176140867433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/09/apele-linistite-sunt-adanci-da-adanci.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1404894107966422097</id><published>2009-08-31T09:51:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T09:54:17.410+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ma credeam baiat destupat, oarecum inteligent, putin destept, insa iata ca exista (inca) lucruri care ma pot soca (postare preluata integral de aici http://laurentiu.elenaworld.net/2009/08/sexul-si-limba-romana-18/):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sexul si Limba romana! +18 &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probabil va intrebati care e legatura intre “sex” si “limba romana” ei bine nu e niciuna, dar impreuna, caracterizeaza generatia de adolescenti actuala precum si indobitocirea lor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu toate ca aveam acest mail de mult timp ratacit prin Inbox, si cum mereu mi-am zis ca nu o sa scriu despre asta, ei bine trebuie!, nu pot sa ma abtin sa nu va impartasesc si voua prostia copiilor din Romania.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revenid la post, “sexul” o chestie despre care parintii uita sa-i invete pe copii si uite mai jos in ce hal au ajuns, iar “limba romana” pentru ca toti(aproape) adolescentii nu o mai vorbesc. Din limba cea suava au transformat-o intr-o chestie neinteleasa, extraterestra pentru noi restul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Am pus semnul.&lt;br /&gt;PS2: Nu aruncati cu rosii in mine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extrase de pe site-ul CoolGirl, nu de mine, doar primite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cristyana (07-Jan-2008, 16:51)&lt;br /&gt;sy scz limbaju’dar daca imi permit..sy am dc de ce sa nu injur??am dreptatte!!sy daca tzyy la cineva dc sa no facy??mai bine din dragoste decat la 20 de ani nuam ca sa nu fy aratata d toata facultatea ca nu teay…si atunci o facy la vrajeala!ce p*la mea atata chestye pt asa ceva???sy nu mai pronuntaty ca alea care o fac d la o anumita varsta mai mika is c*rve!!invatazty sy voi lexicu’..ca c*rvele se f*t cu mai multzy bah !!asa ca..tacety in mortzyy vostry de crytycatory!ii o chestye despre care se discuta sy gata..aia nu inseamana ca facy p cine ty se scoala tye c*rva!!mars mah!!care au scrys asa ceva abereaza!!sy cam atata..sy daca yubity sy suntetzy yubite sy constyente de ce facety f*tetzy frate ….sy nu mai luaty altyy saua ltele in seama ca pana la urma nu se f*t ele sau ey..datzy draq!FACETYO CU CAP!!ATATA VA SPUN CA SFAT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scumpik baietzilor (13-Apr-2008, 23:38)&lt;br /&gt;‘ba prima oara e un kkt si e neinteresant ftelor ganditziva o viatza avetzi si tre so traitzi eo una am 14 ani si mi`am tras`o cu destui baietzi e prea tare mama deja ma excit cnd ma gandesc la sex adik iubitul meu actual e f d gajk si a acceptat s`o facem in grup si am facut`o cu 2 fte si 2 baietzi ma simtzeam bestial cnd’&lt;br /&gt;(EDIT EDIT EDIT CA E UN FORUM DESPRE COPII…)&lt;br /&gt;‘:X:X aja k nu va mai speriatzi k nu va manank nimeni…’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘(29-Apr-2008, 15:17)Bravo fetelor, cel mai tare Site pentru fete, din cate am vazut pana azi.Simteam nevoia sa aflu mai multe despre sex si vad ca aici se poate. Ma numesc Mihaela si in aug. Fak 11 ani. Am un prieten ce are 14 ani si e tot la scoala mea, asa ne-am cunoscut in vacanta de Craciun. Eu sunt virgina si nu vreu sa fac sex, insa el imi tot vb cat e de excitat si nevoile astea. Asa ca ii fac sex oral de ceva timp, insa prietenul meu, nu stiu de ce, la scurt timp dupa ce incep sa i-o sug isi da drumul iar eu nu simt acea placere si i-am asta. Dupa un timp el mi-a zis ca daca inghit voi avea orgasm si eu, insa degeaba fac asta acum, ca e la fel, tot nu simt ceva. Am vb cu colega mea de banca si zice ca ea nu inghite , ci scuipa tot dupa ce baiatul ei ejaculeaza, caci de mai inghit ma imbolnavesc de ulcer. Este adevarat ce spune? Tot ea mi-a zis ca orgasm pot avea de fac sex in fund. Am incercat cu iubi meu si asta insa ceva nu e bine caci nu intra penisul acolo. Cam de 10 ori am tot incercat, iubi este tare afectat, nemultumit caci se excita tot incercand incat de cateva ori s-a terminat incercand. Nu-s de ce nu intra, caci colega zice ca dupa doua-trei incercari in care a durut-o , nu a mai avut probleme. Pai la mine durerea nu dispare delok, mi-e imposibil sa reusesc sa ma relaxez incat sa intre penisul. De ce ? Voi cum ati facut prima data, v-a durut tot asa de rau, sau e ceva cu mine. Chiar nu voi putea face sex anal deloc ? El a incercat cu un deget si asa e bine, nu doare, insa nu mai mult ca iar ma doare incat nu putem continua. Prietenul meu crede ca pana nu voi avea ciclu, nu pot sa am si orgasm, dar nu stiu de e adevarat. Mi-a zis sa ma masturbez si in acelasi timp sa tin un deget, apoi treptat doua in fund sa se dilate, dar degeaba fac asta, caci tot nu intra penisul lui, nu ca e prea mare, dar durerea ma face sa renunt. La sexul oral, cum pot sa aflu de are orgasm cand ejaculeaza, ca macar asa sa-l fac sa se simta mai bine de nu pot anal. Si inca ceva. Unde este himenul ala la o virgina, in exterior sau mai in `nuntru. De il las sa o bage jumatate, se uintampla ceva, poate sa ajunga la himen ? ca el mi-a zis ca are grija si nu se intampla nimik. La sexul oral, e posibil sa nu simt placere ca el se termina prea repede? si daca isi da drumul asa iute, poate sa aiba si orgasm ? ca mereu il vad cam nemultumit si nu stiu de ce, ca nu prea vorbeste despre el. Sper ca pot sa-l satisfac mai mult, caci mi-e o asa teama ca-l voi pierde? fetele de stiu as vrea sa-mi spuna macar cateva sfaturi bune, caci degeaba intreb colegele, sunt si ele nestiutoare chiar de unele spun sau ma mint ca se simt bine si au placere mare cu iubitii lor si fara sa faca sex normal, numai eu nu simt asta. Eu nimik. Nu simt deloc placere, anal nu reusesc sa fac, iar normal nu am curaj, ca de afla mama, nush.. poop girls?}{}{’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tot ea, aruncand cu noroi intr-o ‘virgina batrana de 21 de ani’ care incercase sa o tempereze:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘(29-Apr-2008, 18:32)&lt;br /&gt;Pentru fata de 21 ani,lideea (29-Apr-2008, 17:53). cum adica sunt prea mica/ Pai tu crezi ca fac sex adevarat? Nu fak asa, caci stiu ca apar probleme plus ca de afla ai mei nush ce fak. Eu ziceam de celelalte sexuri, care le fac fetele la iubitii lor, cand sunt excitati si ele vor sa ramana virgine, cum si eu vreau asta. Poate de aceea te-a prins 21 ani virgina, ca n-ai stiut sa pastrezi iubitii, si i-ai schimbat mereu. asta inseamna ca nu ti-au placut destul, nu k tu ai fi mai de fier ca altele. Mie imi place prietenul de-l am, tin enorm la el, este primul care a fost in viata mea si sper ca ultimul, dar daca un baiat nu-i satisfacut de fata lui, la ce mai vb cu ea ? Doar ca e frumoasa sau ca sa-i treaca timpul ? Zici ca sunt micuta, pai nu-s singura, doar eu stiu 8 din colegele mele care au iubiti ca fac jocuri sexuale cu ei, asta daca n-or fi si altele de nu spun si nu stiu eu.Prietenul meu spune clar ca daca fata nu-i ofera placere, la ce sa arda gazul degeaba k ea, ca dragostea (pe sek) e ca si moarta. Prietenul meu se excita foarte usor, ce sa fac, sa-l las asa ? Nu-i destul ca si asa e suparat ca nu stiu cum sa-i ofer placere mai bine ? nu toate fetele fac sex anal si oral cand vor sa-si pastreze baietii lor fara a risca mai mult? Eu asa am auzit. Ier de himen de unde vrei sa stiu locul, daca e astupat? Ce tu esti facuta altfel, ori te dai desteapta sa te laude careva. Vezi mai bine de iubitul de-l ai acum, ca fuge dracului si asta, de-l mai tii mult cu c*aiele umflate si lasa morala. Eu voiam un sfat la problemele de nu le stiu bine, nu morala si inca de la o virgina batrana…Mai bine du-te la tipul ala de-l mai gasesti..si ..dezverginare usoara fata…’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aceeasi Mihaela, ‘uluita ca voi va mirati, ca doar tate colegele asa fak’…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(30-Apr-2008, 17:56)&lt;br /&gt;Mihaela_trista. Ohh fetelor dar rele sunteti, sariti k gusteritele cu vorbe grele spre mine, fara ca eu sa jignesc pe cineva. Am crezut ca e un Site si pt fetele mai mici, care au ocazia de-a pune si ele intrebari, ca e adevarat, nu stim multe despre sexuri si baieti, dar nici sa fiu iapa voastra de bataie, nu vreau. Voi sunteti perfecte? Nu sijeti deloc, n8imik, nimk, hai lasati mandria ca toate ati facuto, va vad in scoala si peste tot, inca de la varsta mea, credeti ca eu sunt unikata, m-am ales eu din fetele de varsta mea ? Pai am facut si eu dupa colegele ce au prieteni, amica..tate asa fak si sunt uluita ca voi va mirati. De ce ? Ca si voi ati fost de 11-12 ani si faceati la fel, ori deja v-ati plictisit? Imi pare rau ca am intrat pe acest Site, o fata mi-a spus, ca nu-l stiam, zicea ca pot afla multe raspunsuri la tot ce nu stiu..dar m-am inselat. Distrati-va fara mine..nu mai intru sa va raspund la rautati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘mihaele_super hapy (01-Jan-2009, 19:06)&lt;br /&gt;buna girls ..sa stiti ca nu mai sunt supy pe voi.Chiar daca ati fost rautacioase mi-am dat seama ca ati facut asta doar pentru ca erati geloase pe baiatu meu.Am vorbit mai multe cu o fata de clasa a 8a si m-a asigurat ca baiatul ei e foarte multumit de cum il satisface ea oral si anal.Cu analul nu prea am reusit dar o sa incerc, insa am facut-o.L-am lasat sa o bage decat jumate la inceput iar apoi pe toata.M-a durit putin de tot cand am facuto dar acum o facem aproape in fiecare zi si a inceput sa-mi palaca .Baiatul meu este foarte multumit si mi-a zis ca putem sa profitam ca nu mi-a venit ciclul sa facem toate tipurile de sexuri.Ultima data cand am facut-o m-am simtit foarte bine , cred ca am avut orgasm .Mi-a zis ca e foarte mandru de mine .Incepe sa-mi placa din ce in ce mai mult sa stau cu baiatul meu si sa il iubesc mult de tot .Cam atat am vrut sa va spun girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anonima (05-Jun-2008, 17:51)&lt;br /&gt;bah ce draq se baga toate neexperimentatele ,proaste sh virgine in vb kre habarn-am ce-i ala sex?????????????bah fraierelor knd o sa avetzi p*la bagata in voi nu o sa mai comm atata sh o sa va plak yo am fkt sex d la 14 ani sh aqm am 18 sh d 4 ani am fkto dkt q 1 baiat q cre am sh planuri d nunta sh snt f happy!!!!!!!!!aja k f*tatzi-va knd simtiti nevoia sh mucoasele alea sa nu-si mai dea ele q parerea!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTA BENE: STELUTELE DIN MIJLOCUL CUVINTELOR SUNT EDITAREA MEA, DIN RESPECT PENTRU TINE, BIRD, CARE NU MA RESPECTI PE MINE SI MA ADUNI IN ACEEASI GALEATA CU ASEMENEA SPECIMENE ( mind you, ‘ABUZATE’).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘PISI’, 13 ani:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pisi (27-May-2008, 20:10)&lt;br /&gt;ma fata aia care are 11 ani si a facuto in fine iei nu ia venit ciclu dar eu cred ca trb iei cand ..una mie mia venit in clasa a 4 ciclu deoarece sunt foarte dezvoltata…in primul rand e trb ei ce face e viat ei nu trb sa va bagati voi ..eu am 13 si am facut sex si dunt cu un baiat de 16 ani nu vad nimic rau in chstia asta as vrea sa fac si sex oral pt ca nu am facut pna acum dar am facut sex anal si ma durut foarte rau bine la inceput pana intra ca pe urma simt placere adica este foarte bine eu ma inteleg foarte bine cu el il iubesc ma iubeste nu vad ce e rau in asta decat ca as vrea sa-mi dea si mie limbi in pi*da normal ca o sai fac si eu pt ca nam ajuns inca la orgazm dar oricum mam simtiti foarte bine..asa ca nu o mai judecati pe fata aceea si vreau si eu sa va intreb ceva daca voi ati facuto cu un baiat si vati despartit pe urma ati mai faceo cu altu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘trifu (20-May-2008, 12:28)&lt;br /&gt;mai eu nu stiu ce va ambalati atat.eu am 17 ani si mi am inceput viata sexuala la 13.cred k sunteti invidioase k nu aveti curajul so faceti si voi si pt tipa de 11 ani bv ei k incearca,voi nici nu stiti ce bine te simti cu un penis in vagin.care vrea sa come nteze sa intre pe id maria_sweet17′&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Pt Passion si Deea ce drq` aveti ca unele la 12 si 13 ani fal sex si voi va laudati repede vai ca am facut la moolt mai tarziua ma rog cv de genu si uite io am mfacuto la 12 ani si in prezent am 13 si am o copilarie ff tare ce sa spun si cu cartea mai lasatima in pace ca pioti s ainveti si daca faci sex!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘CERRADAS DE MENTE! (19-Oct-2008, 22:26)&lt;br /&gt;proasta kre a pus copilele de 1o m12 13 14 15 16 17 ani au lucruri mai importante de facut la varsta lor e o incuiataaa!in viata mea nu am mai vazut fete mai incuiate k voi si nici nu cred k exista…e o prostie sa astepti pana la 18 ani sa stai 1 an sau mai mult cu acelasi baiat dupa care el te freaca sa spunem si dupa aceea te lasa si tu sufer ca o proasta ce esti!nu mai ganditi asa!!sexul nu are varsta si cand!!!io kred k o fata poata sa faca ce vrea cu corpul el si niciodata ar treb sa se rezgandeasca ptr atunci cand a fost in momentul acela vroia sa o faca…nu ar trebui sa judecati fetele care siau inceput viata sexuala ‘devreme’asa cum unele vor sa astepte un an altele pot astepta o sg zi!fiecare face ce vrea!INCUIATELOR!!!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘alinutza (01-Dec-2007, 21:23)&lt;br /&gt;vreau sa vad zic k sunt d acord cu fetele kre si-au inceput viatza sexuala devreme ………si eu mi-am f**ut la 10 ani si am avut si primu orgasm si atunci am supt hi p*la:X:X….crek aqm sunt expeta in sex si daca avetzi intrebat sa l postatzi si eu o sa va raspud……..sa nu credetzi k sunt o c*rva ci sunt doar o persoana mai curioasa si mia plaqt sa ma f*t d mik si sa sug p*la …..nu uitatzi sa ma intrebatzi c vretzi sa aflatzi…11′&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ITI REATRAG ATENTIA CA MA OCUP SA INSEREZ FOOOAAARTE MULTE STELUTE PENTRU A MASCA…’ABUZUL’)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coolgirl (17-Oct-2007, 01:37)&lt;br /&gt;io sunt o fata de 11 ani si ma f*t de ma rup cu cn apuc )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7ud0r (17-Jul-2008, 15:08)&lt;br /&gt;1 nu vad dc relatziile sexuale nu sar putea intretzine la 10 -15 ani adik sunt mai funny asha simtzi cva nu tzin mai mult nu 10 minute cur ar trebuiii..&lt;br /&gt;2 un french deja pt unii baietzi nbu mai inseamna nimic !.e demodat plictisitor.. varza.. e k respiratul.. din obishnuintza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fetita cu codite (14-Oct-2008, 17:34)&lt;br /&gt;baaaaaaa zuzo cu ce drept ne faci u curve???da ne f**em si avem 13 ani e problema noastra!nu ai niciun drept sa ne critici!!! aaaa si nu stiam k p*la e de mancare  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;andra (29-Nov-2007, 12:29)&lt;br /&gt;ma fetelor de ce radetzi de pisicutza lui alin k eo am 12 ani si am facuto si sunt foarte mandra de kestia asta…voi ori suntetzi invidioase ori nu jtitzi so facetzi si va oftiktzi daca vretzi va invatz eo…da nu va mai luatzi aja aiurea de oameni k si eo am facuto pana akum d 4 ori si fara prezervativ si kre e prob? orikum knd o sa fiu mare o sa muncesc in club k prostituata k asta imi place sa fac’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘andreea (05-Mar-2008, 04:36)&lt;br /&gt;preafericitele si sfintele fetite care au impresia aia cu”c*rve”si”iesit din comun” voi ce aveti la c*r???pi*de sau trebuie sa mai papati laptic,sa sugeti degetu.. )fey fetelor hy serioase sa fim daca si asta mai e o greseala k dormi sau culci cu iubitu sau pers iubita..atunci deplasatelor calugariti-va!!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘alinutz (21-Nov-2007, 17:39)&lt;br /&gt;io mi-am inceput viatza sexuala la 11 ani si atunci am avut si primul orgsm=p~…….(in baie la scoala)a fost sooper’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘eo mikutza tarfulitza (09-Dec-2007, 03:16)&lt;br /&gt;ba eo sunt experta in sex si am doar 12 ani aja k nu va mai kktzi p voi kre e problema? uite d exemplu miemi place sa ma f*t in grup adik am facuto cu 3 unu mio’ (EDIT EDIT EDIT EDIT) kre e prob? sa stitzi k a fost minunat un deliciu ; sau o data mam f*tut eo cu ink o fta si cu un baiat si eoi sugeam (EDIT EDIT EDIT EDIT).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Eu (04-Jul-2008, 14:35)&lt;br /&gt;am 12 ani…si vreau sa fac sex cu partenerul de viata..el are 17 ani…sa am incredere in prezervativ???"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1404894107966422097?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1404894107966422097/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1404894107966422097' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1404894107966422097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1404894107966422097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/ma-credeam-baiat-destupat-oarecum.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1087279659139301250</id><published>2009-08-28T14:20:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T14:21:25.978+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>si una la antipod. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hYIMmnkfObo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hYIMmnkfObo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1087279659139301250?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1087279659139301250/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1087279659139301250' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1087279659139301250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1087279659139301250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/si-una-la-antipod.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3542624481134074465</id><published>2009-08-28T14:12:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T14:16:19.281+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>am spus ca o sa fiu cuminte azi. pe de-o parte ma pot abtine. dar pe (cica) blogul meu, chiar nu pot! :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_ibMBU8my0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deci, e mult prea tare! cu greu am rezistat pana la final, insa am rezistat. :))))))))))))))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3542624481134074465?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3542624481134074465/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3542624481134074465' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3542624481134074465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3542624481134074465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/am-spus-ca-o-sa-fiu-cuminte-azi.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5539726434322024082</id><published>2009-08-26T11:03:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T11:07:10.022+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>aflu (cu stupoare!) ca oamenii mari nu mai citesc povesti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Oscar Wilde&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;THE HAPPY PRINCE&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;glowed on his sword-hilt.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He was very much admired indeed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"He is as beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; "only not quite so useful," he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy," muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"He looks just like an angel," said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"How do you know?" said the Mathematical Master, "you have never seen one."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;One night there flew over the city a little Swallow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows; "she has no money, and far too many relations"; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady- love.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"She has no conversation," he said, "and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"I admit that she is domestic," he continued, "but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"You have been trifling with me," he cried.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"I am off to the Pyramids.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Good-bye!" and he flew away.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Where shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the town has made preparations."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then he saw the statue on the tall column.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"What a curious thing!" he cried; "there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then another drop fell.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw--Ah! what did he see?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Who are you?" he said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am the Happy Prince."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; "you have quite drenched me."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans- Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So I lived, and so I died.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"What! is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Far away," continued the statue in a low musical voice, "far away in a little street there is a poor house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She is embroidering passion- flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of- honour to wear at the next Court-ball.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He has a fever, and is asking for oranges.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"It is very cold here," he said; "but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince's sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At last he came to the poor house and looked in.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be getting better"; and he sank into a delicious slumber.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"It is curious," he remarked, "but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"That is because you have done a good action," said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Thinking always made him sleepy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"What a remarkable phenomenon," said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!"&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"To-night I go to Egypt," said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, "What a distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very much.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Have you any commissions for Egypt?" he cried; "I am just starting."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swallow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At noon the yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "far away across the city I see a young man in a garret.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I will wait with you one night longer," said the Swallow, who really had a good heart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Shall I take him another ruby?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Alas!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have no ruby now," said the Prince; "my eyes are all that I have left.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pluck out one of them and take it to him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that"; and he began to weep.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command you."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and flew away to the student's garret.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; "this is from some great admirer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now I can finish my play," and he looked quite happy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Heave a-hoy!" they shouted as each chest came up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"I am going to Egypt"! cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am come to bid you good-bye," he cried.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the chill snow will soon be here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, "there stands a little match-girl.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out your eye.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You would be quite blind then."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command you."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then the Swallow came back to the Prince.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"You are blind now," he said, "so I will stay with you always."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go away to Egypt."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince's feet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is no Mystery so great as Misery.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another's arms to try and keep themselves warm.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"How hungry we are!" they said.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"You must not lie here," shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am covered with fine gold," said the Prince, "you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"We have bread now!" they cried.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He picked up crumbs outside the baker's door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But at last he knew that he was going to die.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He had just strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder once more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Good-bye, dear Prince!" he murmured, "will you let me kiss your hand?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow," said the Prince, "you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"I am going to the House of Death.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As they passed the column he looked up at the statue:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer," said the Mayor in fact, "he is little better than a beggar!"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Councillors.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!" continued the Mayor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful," said the Art Professor at the University.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"We must have another statue, of course," he said, "and it shall be a statue of myself."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"What a strange thing!" said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We must throw it away."&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"Bring me the two most precious things in the city," said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;"You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5539726434322024082?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5539726434322024082/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5539726434322024082' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5539726434322024082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5539726434322024082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/aflu-cu-stupoare-ca-oamenii-mari-nu-mai.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3520270768299411397</id><published>2009-08-20T10:19:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:24:37.922+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sunt genial! mi-am gasit un fel de justificare:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucian Blaga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stelelor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C-o mare de îndemnuri şi de oarbe năzuinţi&lt;br /&gt;în mine&lt;br /&gt;mă-nchin luminii voastre, stelelor&lt;br /&gt;şi flăcări de-adorare&lt;br /&gt;îmi ard în ochi, ca-n nişte candele de jertfă.&lt;br /&gt;Fiori ce vin din ţara voastră îmi sărută&lt;br /&gt;cu buze reci de gheaţă trupul.&lt;br /&gt;şi-nmărmurit vă-ntreb:&lt;br /&gt;spre care lumi vă duceţi şi spre ce abisuri?&lt;br /&gt;Pribeag cum sunt,&lt;br /&gt;mă simt azi cel mai singuratic suflet,&lt;br /&gt;şi străbătut de-avânt alerg, dar nu ştiu - unde.&lt;br /&gt;Un singur gând mi-e rază şi putere:&lt;br /&gt;o, stelelor nici voi n-aveţi&lt;br /&gt;în drumul vostru nici o ţintă,&lt;br /&gt;dar poate tocmai de aceea cuceriţi nemărginirea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deci, faptul ca nu sunt o persoana ambitioasa (asa cum mi se reproseaza uneori de catre diversi), faptul ca par dezinteresat (daca stau bine sa ma gandesc, chiar sunt) si multe alte chestii mici pe care mi-e lene sa mi le amintesc sunt, de fapt, in regula. asa ar trebui sa fie toti oamenii. poate ca lumea ar fi un loc mai bun daca fiecare s-ar multumi cu ce are si nu ar incerca sa obtina mai mult, folosindu-se de orice mijloace, inclusiv de semenii lui, pentru a acumula... cacaturi. oameni buni, nemarginirea este a mea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3520270768299411397?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3520270768299411397/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3520270768299411397' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3520270768299411397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3520270768299411397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/sunt-genial-mi-am-gasit-un-fel-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6733920051528926063</id><published>2009-08-17T15:52:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T16:00:34.786+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>am un amic. si amicului astuia i s-a intamplat cu ceva timp in urma un lucru pe care l-a considerat neplacut: ea i-a spus ca cea mai fericita perioada a vietii ei a fost cea in care ei erau "noi". si prietenul meu a fost oarecum daramat de afirmatia asta, picata ca din senin. insa astazi, prietenul asta al meu m-a sunat sa-mi spuna ca s-a trezit cu gandul ca, din punctul lui de vedere, faptul ca a reusit sa faca o persoana atat de fericita (pentru o PERIOADA de timp, nu doar pentru o clipa), reprezinta o realizare majora. m-a surprins, insa tind sa-i dau dreptate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa faci un om fericit... mi-ar placea sa mi se intample si mie. insa, uitandu-ma la prietenul meu, nu pot sa nu ma intreb: cu ce pret?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6733920051528926063?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6733920051528926063/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6733920051528926063' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6733920051528926063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6733920051528926063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/am-un-amic.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5989008984769629939</id><published>2009-08-17T15:49:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T15:51:49.750+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sunt frustrat si o recunosc. si, in viclenia mea fara margini, faptul ca recunosc acest lucru legitimeaza un anumit comportament si o anumita atitudine vis-a-vis de viata cotidiana. imi permit sa fiu frustrat, daca tot o recunosc, nu-i asa?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5989008984769629939?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5989008984769629939/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5989008984769629939' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5989008984769629939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5989008984769629939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/sunt-frustrat-si-o-recunosc.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1733867854823362441</id><published>2009-08-13T16:14:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T16:15:00.235+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cum e fetele:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.snotr.com/embed/2734" width="400" height="330" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1733867854823362441?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1733867854823362441/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1733867854823362441' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1733867854823362441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1733867854823362441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/cum-e-fetele.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-721387980332919363</id><published>2009-08-12T13:46:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T13:47:13.626+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sunt tare curios: o fi gasit?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/H4EMLeztIFA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/H4EMLeztIFA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-721387980332919363?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/721387980332919363/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=721387980332919363' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/721387980332919363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/721387980332919363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/sunt-tare-curios-o-fi-gasit.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-32654523014554205</id><published>2009-08-07T11:33:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T11:33:09.003+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a murit Tatiana Stepa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-32654523014554205?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/32654523014554205/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=32654523014554205' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/32654523014554205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/32654523014554205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/murit-tatiana-stepa.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3571464203358270465</id><published>2009-08-05T10:15:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T10:19:15.298+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>am citit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,&lt;br /&gt;Enwrought with golden and silver light,&lt;br /&gt;The blue and the dim and the dark cloths&lt;br /&gt;Of night and light and the half light,&lt;br /&gt;I would spread the cloths under your feet:&lt;br /&gt;But I, being poor, have only my dreams;&lt;br /&gt;I have spread my dreams under your feet;&lt;br /&gt;Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si mi-am adus aminte de o vreme cand totul parea mult mai simplu, o vreme in care cuvintele chiar aveau importanta, puteau naste zambete sau puteau rani aproape mortal, o vreme in care visele erau bunul cel mai de pret (pentru ca inca nu aveam in stapanire universul. asta era insa doar o problema de timp...). si am zambit aducandu-mi aminte ca, intr-adevar, cuvintele au putere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3571464203358270465?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3571464203358270465/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3571464203358270465' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3571464203358270465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3571464203358270465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/08/am-citit-had-i-heavens-embroidered.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5808857792762695922</id><published>2009-07-30T09:16:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T09:22:17.689+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SnE7tv7lIgI/AAAAAAAAA20/uddssAW_YhE/s1600-h/fun,cartoon,comic,funny,life,sad-c8fc85bca9fdcb7c2a6e11bad232d5d4_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SnE7tv7lIgI/AAAAAAAAA20/uddssAW_YhE/s320/fun,cartoon,comic,funny,life,sad-c8fc85bca9fdcb7c2a6e11bad232d5d4_h.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364134288321487362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imagine de la: http://img.funtasticus.com/2008/june/funnypics080814/funny-pic-040.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5808857792762695922?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5808857792762695922/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5808857792762695922' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5808857792762695922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5808857792762695922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/07/imagine-de-la-httpimg.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SnE7tv7lIgI/AAAAAAAAA20/uddssAW_YhE/s72-c/fun,cartoon,comic,funny,life,sad-c8fc85bca9fdcb7c2a6e11bad232d5d4_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3236319438038883025</id><published>2009-07-27T14:39:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T14:41:19.333+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sm2SW7nmBYI/AAAAAAAAA2s/0UXQboZXNH0/s1600-h/DSCN0415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sm2SW7nmBYI/AAAAAAAAA2s/0UXQboZXNH0/s320/DSCN0415.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363103653926667650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3236319438038883025?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3236319438038883025/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3236319438038883025' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3236319438038883025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3236319438038883025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sm2SW7nmBYI/AAAAAAAAA2s/0UXQboZXNH0/s72-c/DSCN0415.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5004487864283488664</id><published>2009-07-23T13:22:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T13:27:03.883+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>drumul este un pic mai frumos acum. e presarat cu zambete mici de om mic, zambete atat de... nefalse incat m-a cutremurat amintirea gandului ca exista si zambete REALE in lumea asta din plastic si fibre sintetice si straturi groase si hidoase de fond de ten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5004487864283488664?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5004487864283488664/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5004487864283488664' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5004487864283488664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5004487864283488664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/07/drumul-este-un-pic-mai-frumos-acum.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8593336504851363832</id><published>2009-06-29T15:21:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T15:24:11.977+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://roflrazzi.com/2009/03/11/celebrity-pictures-michael-jackson-white-woman/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://roflrazzi.wordpress.com/files/2009/03/celebrity-pictures-michael-jackson-white-woman.jpg" alt="michael jackson" title="celebrity-pictures-michael-jackson-white-woman" class="mine_3586896" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see more &lt;a href="http://roflrazzi.com"&gt;Lol Celebs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8593336504851363832?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8593336504851363832/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8593336504851363832' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8593336504851363832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8593336504851363832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_29.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5691328549670909301</id><published>2009-06-26T12:51:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T12:52:20.526+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Michael died. The world is a better place. For you and for etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5691328549670909301?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5691328549670909301/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5691328549670909301' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5691328549670909301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5691328549670909301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/michael-died.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5954227166351570578</id><published>2009-06-22T09:25:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T09:37:15.564+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>un fel de replica la o postare optimista:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;experiente, trecutul este plin de ele. la fel si viitorul. un lucru foarte important, nimic nu este la fel. este si bun lucrul asta, pe langa faptul ca este important. se intampla insa unora (nu tuturor) sa traiasca o experienta... de neegalat. mai multi factori se intalnesc la un momement dat si, impreuna, dau nastere la ceva atat de profund incat... incat. cam atat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5954227166351570578?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5954227166351570578/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5954227166351570578' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5954227166351570578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5954227166351570578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/un-fel-de-replica-la-o-postare.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3014682120422586745</id><published>2009-06-10T13:19:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T13:20:10.084+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures." -George W. Bush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ce sa zic, am ramas fara cuvinte. doar cu niste imagini...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3014682120422586745?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3014682120422586745/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3014682120422586745' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3014682120422586745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3014682120422586745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-of-great-things-about-books-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8580540218750781904</id><published>2009-06-09T12:52:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T12:53:10.763+03:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/cafeafarazahar/4fdbe88799e968.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/cafeafarazahar/4fdbe88799e968.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="46"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alina Manole - Cutia Pandorei&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8580540218750781904?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8580540218750781904/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8580540218750781904' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8580540218750781904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8580540218750781904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5340927211094224614</id><published>2009-06-09T08:21:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T08:23:51.704+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>plecand de la o reclama care promoveaza statiunea cu nume normal in Croatia s-a ajuns la un "cover"... bazat pe evidente. :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/csdjpb7KPxg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/csdjpb7KPxg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5340927211094224614?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5340927211094224614/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5340927211094224614' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5340927211094224614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5340927211094224614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/plecand-de-la-o-reclama-care-promoveaza.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3121457289036442024</id><published>2009-06-05T13:13:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T13:13:43.174+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fuckin' yeah. nice day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IAhYdtH8uVI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IAhYdtH8uVI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3121457289036442024?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3121457289036442024/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3121457289036442024' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3121457289036442024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3121457289036442024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/fuckin-yeah.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2845068918754887666</id><published>2009-06-04T14:47:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T14:48:59.353+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nu mi-a mai venit o idee oarecare despre care sa pot si scrie de foaaarte mult timp. nu, nu scriu acum pentru ca as avea vreo idee. doar am mentionat ca nu mi-a mai venit nicio idee oarecare despre care sa pot si scrie de foarte mult timp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2845068918754887666?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2845068918754887666/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2845068918754887666' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2845068918754887666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2845068918754887666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/nu-mi-mai-venit-o-idee-oarecare-despre.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2986005733991063077</id><published>2009-06-03T13:41:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T13:42:07.727+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://embed.trilulilu.ro/audio/sobypunk/2962497b3d06a2"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_2962497b3d06a2(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2986005733991063077?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2986005733991063077/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2986005733991063077' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2986005733991063077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2986005733991063077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/show2962497b3d06a2448-46-pat-de-flori.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2821388227759959396</id><published>2009-06-01T13:47:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T14:14:37.488+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>inca una, de data asta de la fetita care se joaca cu focul:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o lună, aş fi fost luna octombrie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o zi a săptămânii, aş fi fost vineri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o parte a zilei, aş fi fost amurgul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un animal marin, aş fi fost delfin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o direcţie, aş fi fost prima la stanga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o virtute, aş fi fost lealitatea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o personalitate istorica, aş fi fost Ignatio de Loyola. :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca eram o planetă, aş fi fost Pluto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un lichid, aş fi fost palinca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o piatra, aş fi fost calcar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o pasăre, aş fi fost soim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o plantă, aş fi fost cactus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un tip de vreme, aş fi fost ploioasa (e vorba de vreme aici, asa ca nu te gandi ca ma simt nu-stiu-cum).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un instrument muzical, aş fi fost flaut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o emoţie, aş fi fost tristete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un sunet, aş fi fost sunetul vantului printre brazi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un element, aş fi fost plumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un cântec, aş fi fost "Traficanti de vise". :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un film, aş fi fost Ilford de 35mm, alb-negru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un serial, aş fi fost mort pana acum. Sinucidere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o carte, aş fi fost “Magicianul”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un personaj de ficţiune, aş fi fost paul. atreides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un fel de mancare, aş fi fost sarmale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un gust, aş fi fost amarui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o aromă, aş fi fost vin fiert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o culoare, aş fi fost rosu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un material, aş fi fost matase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un cuvânt, aş fi fost dor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o parte a corpului, aş fi fost sfarc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o expresie a feţei, aş fi fost mirare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o materie de şcoală, aş fi fost sportul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un personaj din desene animate, aş fi fost Willy Coyote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o formă, aş fi fost sfera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram un număr, aş fi fost prim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o maşină, aş fi fost jaguar e-type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dacă eram o haină, aş fi fost sutien (nu prea e haina da' asta vreau eu sa fiu in cazul in care).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si cam atat. Eva, te simti vizata?! ar trebui. :)))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2821388227759959396?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2821388227759959396/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2821388227759959396' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2821388227759959396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2821388227759959396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/06/inca-una-de-data-asta-de-la-fetita-care.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6518073757425570095</id><published>2009-05-25T14:06:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T14:06:20.843+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>da-i cu leapsa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. consider ca inceputul este cel mai dificil moment;&lt;br /&gt;2. dar nu imi ia mult sa depasesc momentul;&lt;br /&gt;3. sunt lenes;&lt;br /&gt;4. indolent;&lt;br /&gt;5. nu suport responsabilitatile;&lt;br /&gt;6. ma feresc cat pot de mult de efort;&lt;br /&gt;7. sunt anti-social;&lt;br /&gt;8. imi place sa cred ca am imaginatie;&lt;br /&gt;9. si ca sunt altruist;&lt;br /&gt;10. echilibrul mi se pare plictisitor;&lt;br /&gt;11. mult mai distractiv este sa incerci sa mentii echilibrul, trecand scurt si rapid dintro parte-n alta;&lt;br /&gt;12. imi place berea;&lt;br /&gt;13. nu sunt superstitios;&lt;br /&gt;14. dar am tabieturi;&lt;br /&gt;15. cred in Dumnezeu;&lt;br /&gt;16. si cred ca Dumnezeu inca mai crede in oameni (desi nu pot intelege de ce);&lt;br /&gt;17. religia imi place doar ca materie de studiu;&lt;br /&gt;18. nu-mi place sa studiez;&lt;br /&gt;19. nu-mi ocup mintea. cu mai nimic;&lt;br /&gt;20. putine lucruri merita sa fie lasate sa o ocupe;&lt;br /&gt;21. cred ca voi deveni senil mult mai repede decat majoritatea;&lt;br /&gt;22. si cred ca nici in fund nu ma doare de lucrul asta;&lt;br /&gt;23. am avut mai multe... dragoste;&lt;br /&gt;24. dar foarte putine iubiri;&lt;br /&gt;25. una dintre ele: femeile; :)&lt;br /&gt;26. stiu sa cant la chitara;&lt;br /&gt;27. insa nu atat de bine si mult pe cat mi-as fi dorit;&lt;br /&gt;28. nu-mi plac femeile virgine (prea multa bataie de capete);&lt;br /&gt;29. imi plac cuvintele;&lt;br /&gt;30. uneori cuvintele nu ma plac;&lt;br /&gt;31. incep sa chelesc;&lt;br /&gt;32. si chiar nu ma intereseaza lucrul asta;&lt;br /&gt;33. nu sunt fatalist;&lt;br /&gt;34. ma plictisesc rar;&lt;br /&gt;35. imi place sa citesc;&lt;br /&gt;34. imi place sa cred ca inca sunt in stare sa o fac;&lt;br /&gt;35. si, da, cred ca trebuie sa ai o anumita stare pentru a citi cu adevarat, nu doar pentru a parcurge si a bifa;&lt;br /&gt;36. am multe cunostinte;&lt;br /&gt;37. si putini prieteni;&lt;br /&gt;38. sunt o persoana increzatoare: cred ca asa ar trebui sa fie;&lt;br /&gt;39. sunt inconstient;&lt;br /&gt;40. de multe ori dau nastere la probleme, doar din placerea de a cauta o rezolvare;&lt;br /&gt;41. imi place sa vorbesc si sa fiu ascultat;&lt;br /&gt;42. dar mai stiu ca fiecare om este la fel ca mine si de aceea incerc sa vorbesc mai putin si sa ascult mai mult;&lt;br /&gt;43. cineva, candva, a avut sau va avea nevoie de ajutorul meu;&lt;br /&gt;44. vreau sa cred ca sunt pregatit sa il ofer, indiferent de ce anume implica acest ajutor;&lt;br /&gt;45. sunt de parere ca lealitatea ar trebui sa fie o conditie a acceptarii unei persoane in randul celor maturi;&lt;br /&gt;45. dar adevarul ar trebui sa fie mai presus de orice;&lt;br /&gt;46. stiu ca adevarul are foarte multe fete;&lt;br /&gt;47. dar mai stiu ca adevarul personal este cel mai important pentru multi oameni si asta da nastere la intoleranta;&lt;br /&gt;48. uneori ma tradez;&lt;br /&gt;49. si de cele mai multe ori ma respect;&lt;br /&gt;50. ma iubesc cu adevarat;&lt;br /&gt;51. am incredere in mine;&lt;br /&gt;52. si fac eforturi pentru a-mi menaja increderea asta, deci nu ma implic in proiecte care ar putea sa mi-o darame;&lt;br /&gt;53. pricep greu si uit repede;&lt;br /&gt;54. multi ar spune ca se intampla asa pentru ca nu-mi dau interesul;&lt;br /&gt;55. le dau dreptate;&lt;br /&gt;56. nu suport prostii;&lt;br /&gt;57. imi pierd rabdarea foarte repede;&lt;br /&gt;58. si interesul;&lt;br /&gt;60. termin foarte rar un proiect pe care il pornesc;&lt;br /&gt;61. pornesc foarte rar proiecte din proprie initiativa;&lt;br /&gt;62. nu spun ceea ce gandesc;&lt;br /&gt;63. asta si pentru ca mi-e rusine de rusinea celorlalti;&lt;br /&gt;64. mi s-a spus ca sunt o persoana... diplomata;&lt;br /&gt;65. imi masor cuvintele;&lt;br /&gt;66. pentru ca sunt foarte importante;&lt;br /&gt;67. de multe ori spun atatea cacaturi, incat daca s-ar sti ca imi masor cuvintele s-ar rade de mine vieti intregi;&lt;br /&gt;68. imi place sa cred ca dincolo de viata e o alta viata;&lt;br /&gt;69. asa nu se naste viata. dar e al naibii de placut...;&lt;br /&gt;70. imi plac bancurile seci;&lt;br /&gt;71. dar nu le retin;&lt;br /&gt;72. iubesc muntii;&lt;br /&gt;73. poezia;&lt;br /&gt;74. si apusul pe un cer cu nori;&lt;br /&gt;75. ma impresioneaza nelinistea marii;&lt;br /&gt;76. si umbra padurilor;&lt;br /&gt;77. nu mai fumez;&lt;br /&gt;78. dar imi plac femeile care fumeaza in timp ce se uita pe fereastra, cu gandul departe;&lt;br /&gt;79. tind sa ador femeia in loc sa o tratez ca pe o femeie care de cele mai multe ori vrea doar sa fie bine fututa;&lt;br /&gt;80. detest surprizele. toate sunt neplacute. fara exceptie. corect spus ar fi: detest sa fiu surprins;&lt;br /&gt;81. imi place mult de tot sa injur;&lt;br /&gt;82. nu-mi plac schimbarile;&lt;br /&gt;83. nu-mi place aglomeratia. am nevoie de spatiu personal;&lt;br /&gt;84. nu-mi place sa fiu presat si nu suport insistenta;&lt;br /&gt;85. poate pentru ca nu stiu foarte bine sa spun nu;&lt;br /&gt;86. imi plac cuvintele triste. fericirea poate fi exprimata doar prin zambet si aratata doar prin priviri;&lt;br /&gt;87. cea mai frumoasa femeie pe care am vazuto nu era nici macar frumoasa (dupa standarde);&lt;br /&gt;88. am cateva regrete, dar nu-mi fac viata amara pentru asta;&lt;br /&gt;89. stiu ca as fi putut mai mult. dar nu-mi fac viata amara pentru asta;&lt;br /&gt;90. am o sotie, voi avea o fetita, am 29 de ani, ma simt ca la 92, gandesc ca la 2 ani, ma comport ca la 9;&lt;br /&gt;91. daca sunt inselat renunt la "lucrarile de reparatii". a facuto o data, o va face si a doua oara. daca ii eram suficient, nu ar fi facuto;&lt;br /&gt;92. nimanui nu ii ajunge unul singur;&lt;br /&gt;93. sunt realist;&lt;br /&gt;94. nu suport sa ma barbieresc;&lt;br /&gt;95. ma dezgusta mirosul de transpiratie si unghiile murdare;&lt;br /&gt;96. cred ca oamenii pot sa puna baza pe mine, dar ar fi mai bine sa incerce cu acid;&lt;br /&gt;97. sunt un om norocos;&lt;br /&gt;98. uneori imi este foarte dor...;&lt;br /&gt;99. am crezut intro dragoste mare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am raspuns si, desi am facut efortul asta, tot am eu sunt la leapsa. de ce? simplu, n-am cui s-o dau. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6518073757425570095?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6518073757425570095/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6518073757425570095' title='8 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6518073757425570095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6518073757425570095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/da-i-cu-leapsa-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5539611747491994047</id><published>2009-05-15T10:57:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T11:02:22.080+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>:)) asta chiar stie ce vrea. insa eu cred ca nu vrea nimeni cu el. :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qn1bnMyN4Zw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qn1bnMyN4Zw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5539611747491994047?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5539611747491994047/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5539611747491994047' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5539611747491994047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5539611747491994047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/asta-chiar-stie-ce-vrea.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7498280012471082724</id><published>2009-05-14T12:03:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T12:04:12.746+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A sweet, morning poem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I awoke this morning&lt;br /&gt;When all sweet things are born&lt;br /&gt;A robin perched upon my sill&lt;br /&gt;To signal the coming morn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bird was fragile, young and gay&lt;br /&gt;And sweetly it did sing&lt;br /&gt;The thought of happiness and joy&lt;br /&gt;Into my heart did bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled softly at the song&lt;br /&gt;And as it paused - a lull&lt;br /&gt;I gently closed the window&lt;br /&gt;And crushed its fucking skull.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7498280012471082724?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7498280012471082724/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7498280012471082724' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7498280012471082724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7498280012471082724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/sweet-morning-poem-as-i-awoke-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-738429245873215179</id><published>2009-05-11T13:22:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T13:23:51.941+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"E bine-n gara ca miroase-a dor&lt;br /&gt;Si a batiste in "la revedere",&lt;br /&gt;Despartirile se nasc si mor&lt;br /&gt;In fum de mici si-n gust amar de bere."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-738429245873215179?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/738429245873215179/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=738429245873215179' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/738429245873215179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/738429245873215179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-bine-n-gara-ca-miroase-dor-si-batiste.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1905626115699299088</id><published>2009-05-07T11:08:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T11:10:04.357+03:00</updated><title type='text'>primita pe mail:</title><content type='html'>Ce spune femeia: "Locul asta e mizerabil. Haide, sa curatam amandoi. Toate lucrurile tale sunt pe podea si ai sa ramai fara haine daca nu le speli chiar acum." &lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;Ce aude barbatul: " Bla bla bla bla. HAIDE, bla bla AMANDOI. Bla bla bla bla PE PODEA, bla bla bla FARA HAINE bla bla bla bla CHIAR ACUM.''&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1905626115699299088?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1905626115699299088/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1905626115699299088' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1905626115699299088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1905626115699299088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/primita-pe-mail.html' title='primita pe mail:'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1400126114042201106</id><published>2009-05-05T13:35:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T13:36:03.115+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>asta meserias frate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TgwCYkzcmt4&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TgwCYkzcmt4&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1400126114042201106?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1400126114042201106/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1400126114042201106' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1400126114042201106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1400126114042201106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/asta-meserias-frate.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5708249025809176401</id><published>2009-05-05T10:33:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T10:34:26.572+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nu castigi nimic fara sa pierzi ceva in schimb. oamenii (in general) inteleg prost acest lucru: alearga dupa un castig de nimic si pierd totul in schimb.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5708249025809176401?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5708249025809176401/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5708249025809176401' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5708249025809176401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5708249025809176401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/nu-castigi-nimic-fara-sa-pierzi-ceva-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-600966974998429055</id><published>2009-05-04T16:39:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T16:40:57.069+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>te-am iubit fara umbre&lt;br /&gt;te-am... stiut pana la capat&lt;br /&gt;am stiut ca ai sa pleci.&lt;br /&gt;(am simtit-o in treacat).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-600966974998429055?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/600966974998429055/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=600966974998429055' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/600966974998429055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/600966974998429055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/05/te-am-iubit-fara-umbre-te-am.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-9132921107463525869</id><published>2009-04-30T10:43:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T11:19:48.790+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cateva care imi plac</title><content type='html'>crowded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbjW6QJ1I/AAAAAAAAAm8/sI0epaZaB_s/s1600-h/IMG_1373.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbjW6QJ1I/AAAAAAAAAm8/sI0epaZaB_s/s320/IMG_1373.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330392296973150034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and... ACTION!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbjP_i6aI/AAAAAAAAAm0/DfSQSNrFb9s/s1600-h/IMG_1480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbjP_i6aI/AAAAAAAAAm0/DfSQSNrFb9s/s320/IMG_1480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330392295116302754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;should i look inside (me)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbiqeENII/AAAAAAAAAms/qRjzWDgt7Jk/s1600-h/IMG_1558.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbiqeENII/AAAAAAAAAms/qRjzWDgt7Jk/s320/IMG_1558.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330392285043766402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbibM6ZJI/AAAAAAAAAmk/4HcmrAaCy9c/s1600-h/IMG_1573.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbibM6ZJI/AAAAAAAAAmk/4HcmrAaCy9c/s320/IMG_1573.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330392280945288338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbiOUuCxI/AAAAAAAAAmc/9lpEe7wwaE4/s1600-h/IMG_1627.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbiOUuCxI/AAAAAAAAAmc/9lpEe7wwaE4/s320/IMG_1627.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330392277488372498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the other side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sflav4rwEEI/AAAAAAAAAmU/BiAu8yPzrUo/s1600-h/IMG_1526.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/Sflav4rwEEI/AAAAAAAAAmU/BiAu8yPzrUo/s320/IMG_1526.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330391412685934658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;red dot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflavuO6ysI/AAAAAAAAAmM/bzPRGRv7CBY/s1600-h/IMG_1547.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflavuO6ysI/AAAAAAAAAmM/bzPRGRv7CBY/s320/IMG_1547.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330391409880648386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in b&amp;w&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflavdfiotI/AAAAAAAAAmE/jps5hui1S30/s1600-h/IMG_1545.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflavdfiotI/AAAAAAAAAmE/jps5hui1S30/s320/IMG_1545.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330391405386965714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflavARDBPI/AAAAAAAAAl8/x1oB-VGv1lY/s1600-h/IMG_1562.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflavARDBPI/AAAAAAAAAl8/x1oB-VGv1lY/s320/IMG_1562.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330391397541545202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;light spots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflauyKkNdI/AAAAAAAAAl0/FSIBXSJWmKc/s1600-h/IMG_1566.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflauyKkNdI/AAAAAAAAAl0/FSIBXSJWmKc/s320/IMG_1566.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330391393756263890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-9132921107463525869?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/9132921107463525869/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=9132921107463525869' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/9132921107463525869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/9132921107463525869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/cateva-care-imi-plac.html' title='cateva care imi plac'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/SflbjW6QJ1I/AAAAAAAAAm8/sI0epaZaB_s/s72-c/IMG_1373.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5013026564687733822</id><published>2009-04-28T17:11:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T17:12:31.461+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"si de-am iubit in tine ceva, a fost: sa stiu&lt;br /&gt;cum e rostit intregul, cu partea-i de pustiu."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5013026564687733822?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5013026564687733822/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5013026564687733822' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5013026564687733822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5013026564687733822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/si-de-am-iubit-in-tine-ceva-fost-sa.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2300682260467462553</id><published>2009-04-27T09:14:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:26:33.013+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>persoana care se ocupa de curatenie la mansarda este in concediu fara plata pe perioada nedeterminata. de cand si-a luat concediu e o dezordine de nedescris. gunoaiele pline cu vise, pe birouri maldare de regrete care se tot aduna, de pe pereti s-au desprins bucati de dorinte. imi aduc aminte de momentele dinaintea plecarii persoanei care se ocupa cu menajul la mansarda: pe jos nu vedeai nici macar o agrafa -imaginea ei intinsa pe pat cu picioarele desfacute, doar de-a lungul gandului pentru ca ea nu este a ta- ramasa aruncata pe jos. inainte sa plece, totul era in ordine si totul era curat. s-au dat anunturi in cotidiene, saptamanale, siteuri de specialitate. au venit cateve persoane insa au plecat dupa prima privire aruncata, fara sa spuna macar un cuvant, doar razand in hohote. prea e mare mizeria. singurul mod in care se mai poate scapa de ea este sa porneasca un incendiu sau sa se decida demolarea cladirii in care se afla mansarda. pentru ca persoana care se ocupa de curatenie la mansarda nu mai vine. si chiar daca ar veni, ar pleca dupa prima privire aruncata, fara sa spuna macar un cuvant, doar razand in hohote.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2300682260467462553?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2300682260467462553/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2300682260467462553' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2300682260467462553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2300682260467462553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/persoana-care-se-ocupa-de-curatenie-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6224633332424271602</id><published>2009-04-14T14:54:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T14:55:09.223+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Taiat as fi oare, copac de-as fi fost?&lt;br /&gt;Frunza de-as fi, credeti c-as rataci fara rost?&lt;br /&gt;Va-ntreb -nu de alta- dar sunt doar un om&lt;br /&gt;Si toata durerea ma doare si-n somn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e dor cate-odata de clipe ce-au fost&lt;br /&gt;Si dorului asta eu nu-i gasesc rost.&lt;br /&gt;Poate, doar sa ma doara, sa simt ca sunt om?&lt;br /&gt;Visez si-mi dau seama ca mi-e dor si cand dorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca ar fi mai bine sa renunt la somn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6224633332424271602?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6224633332424271602/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6224633332424271602' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6224633332424271602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6224633332424271602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/taiat-as-fi-oare-copac-de-as-fi-fost.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2416911488221965870</id><published>2009-04-13T11:08:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T11:10:28.386+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;simplu&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Ego &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tot mai tăcut si singur&lt;br /&gt;În lumea mea pustie -&lt;br /&gt;Si tot mai mult m-apasă&lt;br /&gt;O grea mizantropie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Din tot ce scriu, iubito,&lt;br /&gt;Reiese-atât de bine -&lt;br /&gt;Aceeasi nepăsare &lt;br /&gt;De oameni, si de tine."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2416911488221965870?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2416911488221965870/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2416911488221965870' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2416911488221965870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2416911488221965870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/ego-tot-mai-tacut-si-singur-in-lumea.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4001968982932631097</id><published>2009-04-10T09:34:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T09:35:28.904+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>da, conduc o honda civic facuta prin '89 si sunt mandru!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4001968982932631097?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4001968982932631097/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4001968982932631097' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4001968982932631097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4001968982932631097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/da-conduc-o-honda-civic-facuta-prin-89.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5512836636581393609</id><published>2009-04-09T08:03:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T08:04:28.225+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"zvarleau castanii-n mine cu stele vegetale,&lt;br /&gt;ma palmuia lumina ferestrelor tarzii&lt;br /&gt;si imi fugeau aleile din cale&lt;br /&gt;certandu-ma ca nu ti-am spus sa vii."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5512836636581393609?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5512836636581393609/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5512836636581393609' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5512836636581393609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5512836636581393609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/zvarleau-castanii-n-mine-cu-stele.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6144088304335310165</id><published>2009-04-08T09:06:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T09:09:29.945+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"am venit pe lume zeu&lt;br /&gt;si mereu devin mai eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;zeu cu zeu s-ar intelege&lt;br /&gt;pentru eu iti trebui' lege.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tot asa, zee cu zee&lt;br /&gt;nu femeie cu femeie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tot asa, un zeu c-o zea,&lt;br /&gt;nu un eu si cu o ea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am venit pe lume zeu.&lt;br /&gt;ramaneam, dar n-are eu."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6144088304335310165?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6144088304335310165/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6144088304335310165' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6144088304335310165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6144088304335310165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/am-venit-pe-lume-zeu-si-mereu-devin-mai.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1495919707442100635</id><published>2009-04-07T08:30:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T08:31:44.924+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Bate a raspantie iubirea,&lt;br /&gt;Nimeni nu mai tace despre noi.&lt;br /&gt;Din greseala, vechiul ghem de sfoara &lt;br /&gt;naste strazi, iar tu, tot strangi in poala&lt;br /&gt;firul ce m-aduce inapoi."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1495919707442100635?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1495919707442100635/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1495919707442100635' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1495919707442100635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1495919707442100635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/bate-raspantie-iubirea-nimeni-nu-mai.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3047576372861904777</id><published>2009-04-06T09:25:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T09:26:32.508+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sterp.blogspot.com/2008/12/n-fiecare-zi-ne-batem-joc-de-psri-de.html"&gt;patetic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3047576372861904777?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3047576372861904777/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3047576372861904777' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3047576372861904777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3047576372861904777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/patetic.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1855194503609026781</id><published>2009-04-03T10:34:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T10:34:59.861+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ar trebui. atata timp cat inca mai avem. timp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/Gabriel1926/eb4056bf088f7d"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_eb4056bf088f7d(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1855194503609026781?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1855194503609026781/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1855194503609026781' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1855194503609026781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1855194503609026781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/ar-trebui.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6336969893328700582</id><published>2009-04-03T08:26:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T08:29:59.624+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Ca de fumat, mereu ma las de tine&lt;br /&gt;Si nu te mai aprind, desi mi-e dor&lt;br /&gt;Si nicotina ta imi otraveste &lt;br /&gt;Cu lipsa ei tot trupul, prea usor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sta patul, ca o scrumiera goala&lt;br /&gt;In care-atata jar a tot fost stins&lt;br /&gt;Si se aprinde iar in miez de noapte &lt;br /&gt;Desi cu secoli peste el a nins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ca inima si trupul meu -pusteste-&lt;br /&gt;Te trag in piept pana se ard la deste."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6336969893328700582?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6336969893328700582/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6336969893328700582' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6336969893328700582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6336969893328700582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/ca-de-fumat-mereu-ma-las-de-tine-si-nu.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4644109815105267236</id><published>2009-04-02T08:48:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T08:52:00.725+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"suntem facuti iubito din lucruri care dor:&lt;br /&gt;din nastere, &lt;br /&gt;din viata &lt;br /&gt;si din moarte.&lt;br /&gt;suntem facuti iubito din lucruri care dor.&lt;br /&gt;suntem facuti iubito de-atata de departe&lt;br /&gt;incat ajuns la mine, bat ostenit in zid&lt;br /&gt;dar nu intotdeauna mai pot sa-mi si deschid."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4644109815105267236?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4644109815105267236/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4644109815105267236' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4644109815105267236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4644109815105267236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/suntem-facuti-iubito-din-lucruri-care.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-1507345725776685279</id><published>2009-04-01T09:12:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T09:14:14.344+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"si ratacesc... ratacesc... ratacesc &lt;br /&gt;pe drumul acesta atat de scurt si de drept.&lt;br /&gt;si radicalul din prost e desteptul&lt;br /&gt;si sinele este singurul loc geometric&lt;br /&gt;unde nu mai indraznesc sa m-astept."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-1507345725776685279?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/1507345725776685279/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=1507345725776685279' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1507345725776685279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/1507345725776685279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/04/si-ratacesc.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-536435995966073213</id><published>2009-03-31T11:50:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T11:50:56.599+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fermecatoare voce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/bright/34c9c98f6e6845"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" language="javascript"&gt;show_34c9c98f6e6845(448, 46);&lt;/script&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blazzaj feat. Mara - Un lucru&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-536435995966073213?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/536435995966073213/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=536435995966073213' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/536435995966073213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/536435995966073213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/fermecatoare-voce-show34c9c98f6e6845448.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2941079643599335058</id><published>2009-03-31T08:28:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T08:29:26.605+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"si o sa treci asa tarziu,&lt;br /&gt;si o sa tac asa departe,&lt;br /&gt;si o sa liniste-n cuvinte&lt;br /&gt;precum am rasfoi o moarte."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2941079643599335058?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2941079643599335058/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2941079643599335058' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2941079643599335058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2941079643599335058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/si-o-sa-treci-asa-tarziu-si-o-sa-tac.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8895182902187079466</id><published>2009-03-30T10:39:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T10:41:07.964+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Ma faci sa iau condeiul. Port iarasi un razboi&lt;br /&gt;Cu sangele, cu carnea, stapan doar pe cuvinte.&lt;br /&gt;Ma faci sa iau condeiul. In care dintre noi&lt;br /&gt;Sta -iar- Iisus la cina si Iuda -iar- il minte?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8895182902187079466?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8895182902187079466/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8895182902187079466' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8895182902187079466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8895182902187079466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/ma-faci-sa-iau-condeiul.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5477221865104754571</id><published>2009-03-26T21:04:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T21:05:25.982+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"moare zapada -ca un lux pierdut-&lt;br /&gt;herminele isi vand in nord ideea&lt;br /&gt;iar tu, imi taci ceva, eu tac ceva&lt;br /&gt;si nicio usa nu-si descuie cheia."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5477221865104754571?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5477221865104754571/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5477221865104754571' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5477221865104754571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5477221865104754571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/moare-zapada-ca-un-lux-pierdut.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4383328066073251910</id><published>2009-03-26T08:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T08:34:34.992+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"aici, la granita, frunzele cad... desi tu esti la mii de mile departare, pe masa mea vor fi intotdeauna doua cesti de ceai."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4383328066073251910?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4383328066073251910/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4383328066073251910' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4383328066073251910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4383328066073251910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/aici-la-granita-frunzele-cad.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-6103762407169694691</id><published>2009-03-25T09:09:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T09:11:11.198+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"mi-ai spus ca totul e-o parere,&lt;br /&gt;ca vei veni la mine alta dat'.&lt;br /&gt;poate, drumet, tu m-ai uitat&lt;br /&gt;dar eu, un semn nu iti voi cere."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-6103762407169694691?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/6103762407169694691/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=6103762407169694691' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6103762407169694691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/6103762407169694691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/mi-ai-spus-ca-totul-e-o-parere-ca-vei.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8573346030143859316</id><published>2009-03-24T09:15:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T09:18:49.828+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;patetic&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>din seria "patetic", serie pe care o incep cu:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ninge peste iubire si-n tinutul pustiu&lt;br /&gt;urla lupii la stanile goale&lt;br /&gt;si se-anunta un pasti si-o taiere de miei&lt;br /&gt;si o cruce stiuta si mare."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8573346030143859316?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8573346030143859316/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8573346030143859316' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8573346030143859316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8573346030143859316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/din-seria-patetic-serie-pe-care-o-incep.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8765496583648623979</id><published>2009-03-11T13:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T13:18:48.117+02:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JRc6KskfVpg&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JRc6KskfVpg&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8765496583648623979?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8765496583648623979/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8765496583648623979' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8765496583648623979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8765496583648623979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-7024538718941879854</id><published>2009-03-05T15:37:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T15:38:45.892+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>iata o reclama geniala! fuga aia de tanar idiot care nu vede nimic, tomberoanele... :))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pJ_V3C4eeYc&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pJ_V3C4eeYc&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-7024538718941879854?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/7024538718941879854/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=7024538718941879854' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7024538718941879854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/7024538718941879854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/iata-o-reclama-geniala-fuga-aia-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3174913399189812590</id><published>2009-03-05T10:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T10:28:33.864+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Durerile şi dezamăgirile distrug. Tristeţile clădesc. &lt;br /&gt;  Durerile şi dezamăgirile îţi pustiesc sufletul, fiinţa, lăsând în urma lor loc gol, neted şi fertil, gata de a primi sămânţa posibilelor viitoare fericiri. &lt;br /&gt;  Tristeţile ridică turnuri. Turnuri înalte în care te autoexilezi, închizând în urma ta nenumărate porţi de metal, pentru a nu mai auzi strigătul omenirii agonizânde. &lt;br /&gt;  Tristeţile ridică temple închinate Zeului Morţii.&lt;br /&gt;  Tristeţile ucid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Sunt trist, femeie! Dar cum aş putea să-ţi spun tristeţile mele? Nu le-ai putea suporta. E de ajuns faptul că trebuie să supravieţuieşti cu tine însăţi. Cu ce drept ţi-aş putea cere să mă suporţi şi pe mine, odată cu ele? Uneori mă depăşesc. Uneori le depăşesc. Dar de fiecare dată mă întreb, cum de este posibil să mă depăşească unele sentimente? La naiba! Eu sunt cel care le simt! Nu mă simt ele pe mine! Sunt ale mele, nu ale lor. Pe de altă parte, dacă aş fi un om matematică, în care totul este calculat şi soluţionat fără putinţă de eroare, în care totul este clar determinat, cum ar fi viaţa mea? Încerc să-mi imaginez sufletul ca pe un cub unde totul este aranjat la marele fix, unde nu există nici un fel de dubiu şi unde totul are un răspuns. Încerc. Şi atât. Nu pot merge mai departe. Este prea... altfel. Ar trebui să fiu mulţumit că sunt trist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3174913399189812590?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3174913399189812590/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3174913399189812590' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3174913399189812590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3174913399189812590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/03/durerile-si-dezamagirile-distrug.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2755638506127769333</id><published>2009-02-23T16:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T16:49:07.985+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>deci, se vede CLAR ca nu e femeie. :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jRYN2-sfos0&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jRYN2-sfos0&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2755638506127769333?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2755638506127769333/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2755638506127769333' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2755638506127769333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2755638506127769333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/deci-se-vede-clar-ca-nu-e-femeie.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3755039337224950716</id><published>2009-02-20T13:02:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T13:08:41.218+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>raspund la intrebarea din comentariul la postul anterior:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pur si simplu pentru ca stiu secretul. nu am spus-o in sensul clasic, mic al cuvantului. nu e vorba de puterea oferita de faima sau de bani sau de mai stiu eu ce alt ajutor din afara. e vorba de puterea pe care o voi capata asupra mea. si atata timp cat ma pot controla, de ce mi-ar pune probleme lumea asta de tot rahatul si atat de mica?! uite ca ai mai aflat un secret de la mine. :)))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3755039337224950716?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3755039337224950716/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3755039337224950716' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3755039337224950716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3755039337224950716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/raspund-la-intrebarea-din-comentariul.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4466305511678102556</id><published>2009-02-18T15:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T15:04:07.125+02:00</updated><title type='text'>am aflat!</title><content type='html'>"Este foarte uşor să faci o femeie fericită! Trebuie să-i fii: prieten, partener, iubit, frate, tată, profesor, educator, bucătar, mecanic, instalator, arhitect, stilist, electrician, sexolog, ginecolog, psiholog, psihiatru, terapeut şi amabil, simpatic, sportiv, iubitor, atent, gentleman, inteligent, amuzant, creativ, sensibil, puternic, înţelegător, tolerant, modest, sincer, practic, curajos, recunoscător, vesel, pasional."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4466305511678102556?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4466305511678102556/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4466305511678102556' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4466305511678102556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4466305511678102556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/am-aflat.html' title='am aflat!'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-4573746970305840118</id><published>2009-02-17T15:21:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T15:21:57.953+02:00</updated><title type='text'>liniste...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FUPx42UmSng&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FUPx42UmSng&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-4573746970305840118?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/4573746970305840118/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=4573746970305840118' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4573746970305840118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/4573746970305840118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/liniste.html' title='liniste...'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-2725704100110082623</id><published>2009-02-17T11:48:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T11:50:21.578+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sunt</title><content type='html'>in mijlocul pregatirilor de craciun. si mi-am luat o pauza. si... nu am cuvinte:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/104cdcySpEs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/104cdcySpEs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-2725704100110082623?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/2725704100110082623/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=2725704100110082623' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2725704100110082623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/2725704100110082623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunt.html' title='sunt'/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-3483786515666957652</id><published>2009-02-16T11:04:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T11:04:26.647+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5i9OuBJNdbI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5i9OuBJNdbI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-3483786515666957652?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/3483786515666957652/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=3483786515666957652' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3483786515666957652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/3483786515666957652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-8913516594082888346</id><published>2009-02-14T11:36:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T11:41:43.364+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nu mai am chef de nimic. lucrurile simple ma tineau in priza. atat. lucrurile complicate... sunt de evitat. daca stau bine sa ma gandesc, ultima oara cand am asteptat cu nerabdare sa vina a doua zi, aveam vre-o 6 ani si era ajunul craciunului. de-atunci... de-atunci, sincer, de-abia astept sa se faca seara si sa ma duc sa dorm. prefer sa dorm. si nu din pricina oboselii (care nu prea e constanta. creste, a naibii). nu-mi mai plac nici macar lucrurile simple. apare plictiseala. inseamna ca imaginatia mea s-a cam epuizat. asa-mi trebuie, daca n-am mai hranit-o! de fapt, ce ma cac atata pe mine?! pur si simplu, nu mai am chef de nimic si gata. [(cel putin azi) al dracului optimism]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-8913516594082888346?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/8913516594082888346/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=8913516594082888346' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8913516594082888346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/8913516594082888346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/nu-mai-am-chef-de-nimic.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5804382443825394707</id><published>2009-02-12T15:10:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:12:43.875+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>EU AM CANTAT PRIMA OARA CHESTIA ASTA. si am cantat-o singur. bine, nu la 4 maini. la doua maini si-o pula. dar cred ca lor le-a fost rusine sa o cante asa cum ar trebui...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed width="450" height="366" src="http://www.220.ro/emb/V8Ndg2s6tr&amp;from=aWduYXRpb2RlbG95b2xh" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MA LAS DE CANTAT LA CHITARA. de fapt, ce cacat mananc eu aici? nici macar nu stiu ce e aia sa canti, in comparatie cu baietii astia...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5804382443825394707?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5804382443825394707/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5804382443825394707' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5804382443825394707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5804382443825394707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/eu-am-cantat-prima-oara-chestia-asta.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771238254136098607.post-5888475143921001422</id><published>2009-02-12T10:53:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T11:01:43.389+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Cristi Minculescu s-a internat intr-o clinica din Germania pentru analize, in urma deteriorarii starii sale de sanatate." am citi articolul, am citit si reactiile in urma articolului. oamenii sunt rai. sunt gata sa arunce cu cacat in tot ce inseamna Iris si sa spumege ca Minculescu este doar un betivan care-si merita soarta. am citit si cuvintele unor oameni care se dau mai documentati si sustin faptul ca Minculescu nu mai bea de cel putin 10 ani si ca boala de care sufera este genetica. adevarul? chiar nu conteaza. ma asteptam (sincer) ca singura reactie sa fie: frate, sa ii tinem pumnii stransi si sa ne rugam pentru el. dar uite ca nu a fost asa. ma cac pe toti bagatorii in seama si pe toti idiotii submediocri, care nu sunt in stare decat sa comenteze pe net, pentru ca au gura mult prea plina de cacat pentru a se exprima altfel. niste labagii frustrati, care nu pot spune cum e sa tragi o betie adevarata cu prietenii, care nu fumeaza, nu se fut ci sunt doar fututi. in gura. de toata lumea. ma cac pe toti cei care se cred virtuosi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8771238254136098607-5888475143921001422?l=sterp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/feeds/5888475143921001422/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8771238254136098607&amp;postID=5888475143921001422' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5888475143921001422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8771238254136098607/posts/default/5888475143921001422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sterp.blogspot.com/2009/02/cristi-minculescu-s-internat-intr-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Smith. Something Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06046704191916478097</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTsbi_0xzKs/S11pH-hm2SI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/nilTt5Ygnkk/S220/ex1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
