<?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-3255288530927337654</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:06:07.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nicas</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-7279980562448392801</id><published>2010-01-15T16:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T16:10:37.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="fr0"&gt;Ultimamente ando numa de cartas de amor.. sabe se lá porquê... encontrei esta, do nosso poeta português Fernando Pessoa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="fr0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="fr0"&gt;O Amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor, quando se revela,&lt;br /&gt;Não se sabe revelar.&lt;br /&gt;Sabe bem olhar p'ra ela,&lt;br /&gt;Mas não lhe sabe falar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem quer dizer o que sente&lt;br /&gt;Não sabe o que há de *dizer.&lt;br /&gt;Fala: parece que mente&lt;br /&gt;Cala: parece esquecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, mas se ela adivinhasse,&lt;br /&gt;Se pudesse ouvir o olhar,&lt;br /&gt;E se um olhar lhe bastasse&lt;br /&gt;Pr'a saber que a estão a amar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas quem sente muito, cala;&lt;br /&gt;Quem quer dizer quanto sente&lt;br /&gt;Fica sem alma nem fala,&lt;br /&gt;Fica só, inteiramente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas se isto puder contar-lhe&lt;br /&gt;O que não lhe ouso contar,&lt;br /&gt;Já não terei que falar-lhe&lt;br /&gt;Porque lhe estou a falar..&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span class="aut"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Fernando_Pessoa/" class="autor"&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3255288530927337654-7279980562448392801?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/7279980562448392801/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2010/01/o-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/7279980562448392801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/7279980562448392801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2010/01/o-amor.html' title='O amor'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-9027249663128570385</id><published>2009-09-08T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T16:40:24.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Estás a fugir porquê?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqbrVWdLpeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Kq8HorrTRhk/s1600-h/b.175.175.16777215.0..stories.imagens.febresuina.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqbrVWdLpeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Kq8HorrTRhk/s400/b.175.175.16777215.0..stories.imagens.febresuina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379245556978394594" 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/3255288530927337654-9027249663128570385?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/9027249663128570385/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/estas-fugir-porque.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/9027249663128570385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/9027249663128570385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/estas-fugir-porque.html' title='Estás a fugir porquê?'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqbrVWdLpeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Kq8HorrTRhk/s72-c/b.175.175.16777215.0..stories.imagens.febresuina.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-4454159246592217196</id><published>2009-09-06T16:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T16:17:25.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando for grande quero ser como a minha mãe.. lol</title><content type='html'>Numa escola, pediram às crianças que, através de um desenho, dizerem o que queriam ser quando fossem grandes.&lt;br /&gt;Uma das crianças disse que gostava muito da sua mamã, e que queria fazer o mesmo que ela. Para tal, desenhou a sua visão do trabalho da mamã:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqRClkZLTFI/AAAAAAAAABI/pC0-kJa21Ns/s1600-h/b.175.175.16777215.0..stories.imagens.noposte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 132px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqRClkZLTFI/AAAAAAAAABI/pC0-kJa21Ns/s320/b.175.175.16777215.0..stories.imagens.noposte.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378497068179082322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como podem imaginar, os professores ficaram espantados com este desenho. Os professores "homens" ficaram até ansiosos por conhecer a mãe desta aluna, pelos vistos uma stripper de sucesso...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao ter conhecimento do desenho da filha, a mãe apanhou um susto! Imediatamente, escreveu uma carta para a escola, nos seguintes termos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exmo.. Sr. Director da Escola,&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser muito clara relativamente ao desenho que a minha filha elaborou na escola. Não quero que fique com a impressão errada. O meu emprego é na loja Home Depot., em Chicago, onde sou empregada de balcão. Há dias, contei à minha filha que fizemos um "dinheirão" vendendo PÁS para retirar a neve às centenas de automobilistas cujos carros ficaram bloqueados num grande nevão... É isso que o desenho retrata!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3255288530927337654-4454159246592217196?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/4454159246592217196/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/quando-for-grande-quero-ser-como-minha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/4454159246592217196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/4454159246592217196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/quando-for-grande-quero-ser-como-minha.html' title='Quando for grande quero ser como a minha mãe.. lol'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqRClkZLTFI/AAAAAAAAABI/pC0-kJa21Ns/s72-c/b.175.175.16777215.0..stories.imagens.noposte.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-5207796864349534679</id><published>2009-09-03T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T14:22:02.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqAys8o7FuI/AAAAAAAAAA4/xABtHkvFAXU/s1600-h/S.A.D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqAys8o7FuI/AAAAAAAAAA4/xABtHkvFAXU/s400/S.A.D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377353702853777122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:Courier;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;I never knew it would be this hard to lose someone I never truly had...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-family:Courier;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-family:Courier;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3255288530927337654-5207796864349534679?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/5207796864349534679/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-never-knew-it-would-be-this-hard-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/5207796864349534679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/5207796864349534679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-never-knew-it-would-be-this-hard-to.html' title=''/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/SqAys8o7FuI/AAAAAAAAAA4/xABtHkvFAXU/s72-c/S.A.D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-1301734342203822272</id><published>2009-09-02T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T10:26:05.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>isto sou eu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp6pVevf5TI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eNG3WbuO04M/s1600-h/sagitario.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp6pVevf5TI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eNG3WbuO04M/s320/sagitario.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376921191621584178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style&gt; .hmmessage P { margin:0px; padding:0px } body.hmmessage { font-size: 10pt; font-family:Verdana } &lt;/style&gt;&lt;span style="color:#002060;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SAGITARIO (Nov 22 * Dic 21) - El Promiscuo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;style&gt; .hmmessage P { margin:0px; padding:0px } body.hmmessage { font-size: 10pt; font-family:Verdana } &lt;/style&gt;&lt;span style="color:#002060;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  Espontáneo. Gran atractivo. Difícil de encontrar, pero grandioso una  vez que lo encuentras. Ama las realciones largas. Tienen mucho amor  para  dar. Alguien con quien no deberías meterte. Muy bonito. Muy  romántico. Agradable con todas las personas. Su amor es único. Tonto,  divertido y dulce. Tiene un atractivo único. La persona más cariñosa  que conocerás! Impresionantes en ESO!!! No es la clase de persona con  la que te meterías y terminarías llorando.&lt;br /&gt;El sagitario es uno  de los signos más positivos del zodiaco. Son&lt;br /&gt;versátiles y les encanta la  aventura y lo desconocido. Tienen la mente abierta a nuevas ideas y  experiencias y mantienen un actitud optimista incluso cuando las cosas  se les ponen difíciles. Son fiables, honestas, buenos y sinceros y  dispuestas a luchar por buenas causas cueste lo que cueste.&lt;br /&gt; Los  sagitario suelen creer en la ética y les gusta seguir los ritos de la  religión, de un partido político o de una organización. Esto les puede  llevarles a tener ciertas tendencias supersticiosas a veces. Les encanta  abarcar nuevos proyectos y aprender sobre cosas nuevas. Son intuitivos y  buenos organizadores y, aunque son generosos, también son muy  cuidadosos, lo que les convierte en buenos gestores de situaciones y  proyectos.&lt;br /&gt; Algunos sagitario tienen un gran genio que puede aparecer  ante situaciones que para los demás carecen de importancia. También  pecan de impaciencia cuando los demás no van al mismo paso que ellos.  Son capaces de sacrificarse para realizar un objetivo. Esto hace que  a veces son demasiado exigentes con los demás.&lt;br /&gt;Los sagitario son  básicamente sinceros y controlados en sus relaciones de pareja, aunque  si se les traiciona pueden perder los papeles. Si su relación es  estable, son excelentes esposos y padres, aunque rara vez logren  suprimir de todo su espíritu aventurero. Necesitan sentirse libres y a  veces ponen sus intereses profesionales por delante de los intereses de  su pareja. Son muy amigos de sus amigos, fiables y leales. No tienen  pelos en la lengua si tienen que recriminar un amigo de algo, pero saben  perdonar cuando hace falta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3255288530927337654-1301734342203822272?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/1301734342203822272/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/isto-sou-eu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/1301734342203822272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/1301734342203822272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/isto-sou-eu.html' title='isto sou eu...'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp6pVevf5TI/AAAAAAAAAAw/eNG3WbuO04M/s72-c/sagitario.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-7164919055269435622</id><published>2009-09-01T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T13:01:09.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile :)</title><content type='html'>Smile,&lt;br /&gt; Though your heart is aching&lt;br /&gt; Smile,&lt;br /&gt; Even though it's breaking,&lt;br /&gt; When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by&lt;br /&gt; If you smile&lt;br /&gt; Through your fears and sorrow, smile&lt;br /&gt; And maybe tomorrow&lt;br /&gt; You'll see the sun come shining through for you&lt;br /&gt; Light up your face with gladness,&lt;br /&gt; Hide ev'ry trace of sadness,&lt;br /&gt; Altho' a tear may be ever so near,&lt;br /&gt; That's the time you must keep on trying,&lt;br /&gt; Smile,&lt;br /&gt; What's the use of crying,&lt;br /&gt; You'll find that life is still worhwhile,&lt;br /&gt; If you just smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b67uA_TZVVM"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b67uA_TZVVM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3255288530927337654-7164919055269435622?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/7164919055269435622/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/smile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/7164919055269435622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/7164919055269435622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/09/smile.html' title='Smile :)'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3255288530927337654.post-1490477093767715964</id><published>2009-08-28T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T16:43:43.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When a Girl...</title><content type='html'>-When a girl is quiet, millions of things are running through her mind.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl looks down, it means she is uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl is not arguing, she is thinking deeply.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl looks at you with eyes full of questions, she is wondering how long you will be around.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl answers "I'm fine" after a few seconds, she is not at all fine.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl stares at you, she is wondering why you are lying.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl lay's her head on your chest, she is wishing for you to be hers forever.&lt;br /&gt;- When a girl wants to see you everyday, she wants to be pampered.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl messages you everyday, she wants you to reply at least ONCE.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl says "I love you", she means it.&lt;br /&gt;-When a girl says "I miss you" no one in this world can miss you more than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3255288530927337654-1490477093767715964?l=annacapelo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/feeds/1490477093767715964/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/1490477093767715964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3255288530927337654/posts/default/1490477093767715964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annacapelo.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-girl.html' title='When a Girl...'/><author><name>AnnaCapelo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07494850027371615780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__tpudWrxrQM/Sp1-A-XXGTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6ZvhE3HmdZY/S220/DSC00054.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
