<?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-7076607</id><updated>2011-09-07T15:50:57.475+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ene problemas</title><subtitle type='html'>Chamo-me António como toda a gente.Aqui jazem os meus problemas,inclusive aqueles que invento</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>835</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115758268490402213</id><published>2006-09-06T23:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T15:33:16.350+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Adeus</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1034.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Versão 1&lt;br /&gt;Dei por terminado os meus problemas. &lt;a href="http://melhor-desistir.blogspot.com/"&gt;Desisti &lt;/a&gt;deles como quem deixa de propósito qualquer coisa em algum lugar e não mais a vai buscar. Atirei a chucha aos peixes, pronto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Versão 2&lt;br /&gt;Falta um minuto para o fim e anda tudo muito entusiasmado com a extinção dos meus problemas. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END &lt;a href="http://ilhatesouro.blogspot.com"&gt;(to be, or not to be the end, that is the problem)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/237005533/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/97/237005533_a38db7818e.jpg" width="500" height="396" alt="brevemente" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115758268490402213?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115758268490402213/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115758268490402213' title='18 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115758268490402213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115758268490402213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/09/adeus.html' title='Adeus'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115732536009409778</id><published>2006-09-04T00:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T00:18:20.300+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O que querem que diga?</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1033. "Com tanto para observar, a comida perde importância [o que observou até agora?]. Coragem. Febre. Gula. Irritação aguda. Inveja. Esperteza. Inteligência. Os defeitos e virtudes habituais de qualquer ser humano".&lt;br /&gt;(Sherlock Holmes)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115732536009409778?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115732536009409778/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115732536009409778' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115732536009409778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115732536009409778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/09/o-que-querem-que-diga.html' title='O que querem que diga?'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115732335328090686</id><published>2006-09-03T23:29:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T23:43:51.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1032. A saudade é um comboio a partir, é um prego preso na madeira difícil de arrancar para suster o quadro dos vossos olhares, é um estremecer cá dentro, mas que amanhã se recompõe porque o vosso último olhar para mim é que conta, e aqui ficará para sempre , é um jogo divertido , um segredo só nosso, para enganar a saudade: Janeiro, não sejas foleiro; Fevereiro, és um porreiro; Março, dá cá um abraço; Abril, águas mil; Maio, come paio; Junho, ergue o punho; Julho, não faças barulho; Agosto, come com gosto; Setembro, se bem me lembro; Outubro, com a manta me cubro; Novembro, à espera de Dezembro; Dezembro, relembro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115732335328090686?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115732335328090686/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115732335328090686' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115732335328090686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115732335328090686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/09/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115723746332904641</id><published>2006-09-02T23:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T23:51:03.366+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O que sinto</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1031. Será o mesmo que sente o bicho da seda a mudar de forma para uma borboleta?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115723746332904641?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115723746332904641/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115723746332904641' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115723746332904641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115723746332904641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/09/o-que-sinto.html' title='O que sinto'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115707161164880171</id><published>2006-09-01T01:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T01:48:13.380+01:00</updated><title type='text'>destino das almas</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1030. Tenho de voltar ao museu para ver o meu duplo numa fotografia. Vou munido de uma máquina e depois mostro-vos a minha figura há muitos anos, algures na cidade de Lisboa. Só espero que não me tomem como um terrorista de almas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115707161164880171?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115707161164880171/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115707161164880171' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115707161164880171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115707161164880171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/09/destino-das-almas.html' title='destino das almas'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115707153998855164</id><published>2006-09-01T01:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T01:47:54.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'>o nome</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1029. "António, apresente-se à caixa! António, apresente-se à caixa! Apareceram cinco antónios.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115707153998855164?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115707153998855164/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115707153998855164' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115707153998855164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115707153998855164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/09/o-nome.html' title='o nome'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115689588735962801</id><published>2006-08-30T00:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T01:41:49.443+01:00</updated><title type='text'>o segredo e às voltas de uma indefinição</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1027.&lt;br /&gt;- Tens algum segredo para me contar?&lt;br /&gt;- Qual é a palavra-chave?&lt;br /&gt;- Esqueci-me.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PROBLEMA 1028.&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/226006931/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="mp1" src="http://static.flickr.com/86/226006931_71b2581aa2_m.jpg" width="177" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O amor é um piano cilíndrico" (Monty Python)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115689588735962801?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115689588735962801/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115689588735962801' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115689588735962801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115689588735962801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/08/o-segredo-e-s-voltas-de-uma-indefinio.html' title='o segredo e às voltas de uma indefinição'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115668224054276948</id><published>2006-08-27T13:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T13:37:20.543+01:00</updated><title type='text'>domingo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1026.Para mim, é sempre domingo.  Porque volta e meia dou comigo a divagar, a sonhar. Isso cria-me problemas nas minhas tarefas diárias. Há mais seis dias na semana e até há domingos em que costumo trabalhar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115668224054276948?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115668224054276948/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115668224054276948' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668224054276948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668224054276948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/08/domingo.html' title='domingo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115668206308779084</id><published>2006-08-27T13:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T13:34:23.086+01:00</updated><title type='text'>carta de condução</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1025. É preciso ter carta de condução para conduzir o nosso próprio destino?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115668206308779084?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115668206308779084/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115668206308779084' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668206308779084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668206308779084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/08/carta-de-conduo.html' title='carta de condução'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115668193851926420</id><published>2006-08-27T13:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T13:32:18.520+01:00</updated><title type='text'>o beijo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1024. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/225974581/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/80/225974581_d3feafce1d_m.jpg" width="240" height="225" alt="cafe1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo eu que gosto tanto de dormir. Sou feito para o repouso, não para a luta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115668193851926420?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115668193851926420/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115668193851926420' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668193851926420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668193851926420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/08/o-beijo.html' title='o beijo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115668040955348128</id><published>2006-08-27T12:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T13:44:27.650+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a timidez e o silêncio</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1023. Um regresso (?) tímido. Isto da timidez faz-me ficar na dependência dos malandros. Um regresso após um silêncio prolongado. Há sempre algo de ameaçador num intervalo demasiado dilatado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115668040955348128?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115668040955348128/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115668040955348128' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668040955348128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115668040955348128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/08/timidez-e-o-silncio.html' title='a timidez e o silêncio'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115296787367833929</id><published>2006-07-15T13:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T23:55:23.303+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A duração dos intervalos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://ilhatesouro.blogspot.com"&gt;PROBLEMA 020365.&lt;img height="239" alt="Digitalizar0003" src="http://static.flickr.com/61/189989698_0c95884e2b_m.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida não se limita a pensar, é vontade e movimento.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115296787367833929?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115296787367833929/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115296787367833929' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115296787367833929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115296787367833929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/durao-dos-intervalos_15.html' title='A duração dos intervalos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115296742216949428</id><published>2006-07-15T13:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T18:40:44.963+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A pergunta</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1022. Em 178 países, Portugal está no 136º lugar dos que possuem maior indíces de felicidade. O primeiro é um pequeno país do Pacífico chamado Vanuatu. Será que os países mais escondidos permitem vidas mais felizes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115296742216949428?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115296742216949428/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115296742216949428' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115296742216949428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115296742216949428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/pergunta.html' title='A pergunta'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115248333024027274</id><published>2006-07-09T23:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T23:15:30.320+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuga</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1021. Um acorde melancólico de Elgar desligou-me dos assuntos terrenos por um instante. A pintura de Vermeer reconciliou-me comigo próprio.  O pior foi depois. Quando os assuntos terrenos voltaram-me  a chatear. Porque tem de ser assim?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115248333024027274?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115248333024027274/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115248333024027274' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115248333024027274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115248333024027274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/fuga.html' title='Fuga'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115244678186209625</id><published>2006-07-09T12:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T13:13:14.230+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Na feira</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1020. Um peixe de plástico&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/185427513/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" alt="5" src="http://static.flickr.com/53/185427513_d707f54aff_s.jpg" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; uma caixa de bombokas&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/185426894/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" alt="3" src="http://static.flickr.com/59/185426894_7f64fdd2b6_s.jpg" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; um porta-chaves (António, dedicado e amigo do seu amigo, guerreiro por natureza)&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/185427348/"&gt;&lt;img height="47" alt="4" src="http://static.flickr.com/72/185427348_f451cb6d87_t.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e um livro&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/185426389/"&gt;&lt;img height="75" alt="1" src="http://static.flickr.com/71/185426389_aa87afda9e_s.jpg" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Isto de ir à feira e tirar umas rifas não faz nada bem à minha consciência.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115244678186209625?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115244678186209625/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115244678186209625' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115244678186209625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115244678186209625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/na-feira.html' title='Na feira'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115240876196572597</id><published>2006-07-09T01:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T03:05:41.626+01:00</updated><title type='text'>tempo perdido</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1019. Uma descoberta tardia. Atravessar a ponte sobre o Tejo de comboio assemelha-se a fazê-lo de avião no regresso a Lisboa. As luzes da cidade provocam um espectáculo único. É nestes dias que o sentimento de tempo perdido cochicha mais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115240876196572597?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115240876196572597/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115240876196572597' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115240876196572597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115240876196572597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/tempo-perdido.html' title='tempo perdido'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115240335436960127</id><published>2006-07-09T01:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T13:17:27.960+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Das conversas</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1018. Todas as conversas que na vida real nunca posso levar a cabo, porque acabariam em explosões de violência, vão-se depositando aqui como se de problemas se tratassem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115240335436960127?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115240335436960127/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115240335436960127' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115240335436960127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115240335436960127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/das-conversas.html' title='Das conversas'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115240320466093117</id><published>2006-07-09T00:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T01:00:04.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As vitórias morais</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1017. Não se faz futebol com bons sentimentos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115240320466093117?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115240320466093117/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115240320466093117' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115240320466093117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115240320466093117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/07/as-vitrias-morais.html' title='As vitórias morais'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115137260065144423</id><published>2006-06-27T02:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T02:43:20.693+01:00</updated><title type='text'>sem tempo para disposições mentais</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1016. Não tenho tempo. Queria ter.  Disposição mental. Para te pedir desculpa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115137260065144423?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115137260065144423/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115137260065144423' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115137260065144423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115137260065144423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/sem-tempo-para-disposies-mentais.html' title='sem tempo para disposições mentais'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115137124871435142</id><published>2006-06-27T02:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T02:20:48.716+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O desenho</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1015. Quando Deus me desenhou deve ter partido o bico do lápis. Tenho uma pequena, insignificante, saliência na orelha direita.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115137124871435142?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115137124871435142/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115137124871435142' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115137124871435142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115137124871435142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/o-desenho.html' title='O desenho'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115137077865409522</id><published>2006-06-27T02:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T02:12:58.696+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a luta</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1014. Tenho um milénio de anos mas o meu coração bate como se tivesse um segundo de vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115137077865409522?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115137077865409522/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115137077865409522' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115137077865409522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115137077865409522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/luta.html' title='a luta'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115106549593752095</id><published>2006-06-23T13:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T13:24:55.940+01:00</updated><title type='text'>alegria</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1013. Qual será a melhor maneira de administrar a alegria, de repartir a alegria por vários dias? Custa menos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115106549593752095?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115106549593752095/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115106549593752095' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115106549593752095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115106549593752095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/alegria.html' title='alegria'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115106540810315114</id><published>2006-06-23T13:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T13:23:28.143+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A letra</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1012. A letra que usava para escrever era diferente da utilizada para a lista de compras.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115106540810315114?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115106540810315114/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115106540810315114' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115106540810315114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115106540810315114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/letra.html' title='A letra'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115073100666514541</id><published>2006-06-19T16:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T16:30:06.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A pizza</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1011. Cada um de nós tem uma irremediável catástrofe, uma derrota. Hoje, ao colocar uma pizza no micro-ondas calculei mal o tempo e queimei-a.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115073100666514541?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115073100666514541/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115073100666514541' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115073100666514541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115073100666514541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/pizza.html' title='A pizza'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115064028604534904</id><published>2006-06-18T15:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T15:18:06.083+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Futebol</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1010. “Aprendi que a bola nunca vem para a gente por onde se espera que venha. Isso ajudou-me muito na vida, principalmente nas grandes cidades, onde as pessoas não costumam ser aquilo que a gente acha que são as pessoas verticais”&lt;br /&gt;(Albert Camus).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PROBLEMA 1011. Ando bem entretido a ver o Mundial. Quero lá saber o que dizem aqueles que não gostam do jogo. Respeito a opinião, mas eu adoro este jogo. O futebol recupera a infância de cada um de nós. A minha, em particular. Já não posso é ir para o adro da igreja jogar o meu Mundial.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115064028604534904?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115064028604534904/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115064028604534904' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115064028604534904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115064028604534904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/futebol.html' title='Futebol'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115002661604360242</id><published>2006-06-11T12:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T12:50:16.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A guerra</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1009. Travamos a maior guerra de todas dentro de nós. Há muito tempo que é assim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115002661604360242?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115002661604360242/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115002661604360242' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115002661604360242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115002661604360242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/guerra.html' title='A guerra'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-115002637797423537</id><published>2006-06-11T12:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T13:31:59.676+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Salto mortal</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1008. Não me lembro de alguma vez ter dado um salto mortal. Talvez tente um dia destes só para saber se depois tudo recomeça de novo, apenas de maneira diferente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-115002637797423537?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/115002637797423537/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=115002637797423537' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115002637797423537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/115002637797423537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/salto-mortal.html' title='Salto mortal'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114920827355334026</id><published>2006-06-02T01:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T01:31:13.590+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O cansaço</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1007. "O senhor feijão é um pobre coitado/deitou-se no chão e ficou semeado." (Samuel Úria)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114920827355334026?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114920827355334026/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114920827355334026' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114920827355334026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114920827355334026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/o-cansao.html' title='O cansaço'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114920674755726223</id><published>2006-06-02T00:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T01:05:48.610+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspectiva</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1006. Uma das mulheres mais bonitas da minha rotina trabalha num pequeno escritório de contabilidade. Só falo com ela uma vez por ano. Mas vejo-a todos os dias. Ao longe. Como se fosse um quadro de Vermeer. Como se o longe estivesse tão perto mas nunca chegasse perto dele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114920674755726223?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114920674755726223/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114920674755726223' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114920674755726223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114920674755726223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/06/perspectiva.html' title='Perspectiva'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114894295862210405</id><published>2006-05-29T23:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T00:04:30.970+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O silêncio de Deus</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1005. &lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/155916804/"&gt;&lt;img height="280" alt="1" src="http://static.flickr.com/71/155916804_c01b448ad3.jpg" width="420" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114894295862210405?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114894295862210405/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114894295862210405' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114894295862210405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114894295862210405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-silncio-de-deus.html' title='O silêncio de Deus'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114894249339540220</id><published>2006-05-29T23:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T23:41:33.430+01:00</updated><title type='text'>pensamentos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1004. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/149721749/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/46/149721749_1599b8e47b.jpg" width="500" height="354" alt="guerra" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114894249339540220?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114894249339540220/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114894249339540220' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114894249339540220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114894249339540220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/pensamentos.html' title='pensamentos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114891596431346135</id><published>2006-05-29T16:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T16:19:24.346+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O gato</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1003. Um gato perdido anda pela pouca sombra que ainda resta nestes dias de calor e vai descobrindo que está cada vez mais a desviar-se do caminho de regresso a casa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114891596431346135?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114891596431346135/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114891596431346135' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114891596431346135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114891596431346135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-gato.html' title='O gato'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114816314428048096</id><published>2006-05-20T22:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T23:18:55.660+01:00</updated><title type='text'>artimanha</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1002. Tenho de arranjar maneira, seja lá como, de na próxima sexta-feira baldar-me mais cedo ao trabalho para chegar a casa e ver o segundo episódio da mini-série "Net Force" sobre a influência do poder cibernético na sociedade actual. No AXN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/150017415/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="Netforce" src="http://static.flickr.com/55/150017415_3d7f677dbb_m.jpg" width="167" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;("Preferia o tempo em que mandávamos cartas com selos".)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114816314428048096?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114816314428048096/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114816314428048096' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114816314428048096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114816314428048096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/artimanha.html' title='artimanha'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114815933883010091</id><published>2006-05-20T22:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T22:08:58.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os gigantes</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1001. "Talvez a solução para o mundo seja que todos nos tornemos pigmeus, uma vez que os recursos estão a esgotar-se. Sabemos que já aconteceu. Daqui a mil anos, a selecção talvez favoreça os que consomem menos recursos. Os gigantes não têm futuro". (Sydney Brenner, Nobel da Medicina 2002).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114815933883010091?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114815933883010091/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114815933883010091' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114815933883010091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114815933883010091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/os-gigantes.html' title='Os gigantes'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114799595600161424</id><published>2006-05-19T00:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T00:57:33.410+01:00</updated><title type='text'>sonho</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 1000. Acordei cansado. Tive um sonho estranho. Vi-me na mente. No céu estive, na terra andei, pelas águas passei; nos animais, nas plantas, estive em todas as coisas, em todos os lugares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114799595600161424?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114799595600161424/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114799595600161424' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114799595600161424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114799595600161424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/sonho.html' title='sonho'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114791307452593833</id><published>2006-05-18T01:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T01:44:34.620+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Universos paralelos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 999. Desconfio que devo ter uma vida secreta. Uma outra identidade. Hoje de manhã, uma senhora que nunca tinha visto na minha vida, cumprimentou-me, com dois beijinhos na cara, perguntou-me se as obras na nova casa, que não tenho, já estavam prontas, se tinha tudo corrido bem em Londres, onde não fui nos últimos tempos, e quando é que o livro que andava a escrever era publicado, o que não é verdade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114791307452593833?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114791307452593833/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114791307452593833' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114791307452593833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114791307452593833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/universos-paralelos.html' title='Universos paralelos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114791193173590964</id><published>2006-05-18T01:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T01:25:31.770+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a rotina</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 998. A mulher mais bonita da minha rotina estava atrás do balcão do café onde vou todas as manhãs. Estava. Não vou deixar de ir ao café. As rotinas são para se manterem. Mas já não é a mesma coisa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114791193173590964?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114791193173590964/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114791193173590964' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114791193173590964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114791193173590964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/rotina.html' title='a rotina'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114751863678413377</id><published>2006-05-13T12:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T01:45:21.270+01:00</updated><title type='text'>o horóscopo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 997. Lia o horóscopo todos os dias até que alguém lhe chamou a atenção que o jornal era do ano passado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114751863678413377?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114751863678413377/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114751863678413377' title='16 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751863678413377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751863678413377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-horscopo.html' title='o horóscopo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114751830932436691</id><published>2006-05-13T12:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T12:05:09.326+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A ameaça</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 997. É nos sítios mais inesperados que acabamos por ser ameaçados. Estava na casa de banho da estação de comboios a urinar quando deparei com a seguinte mensagem na parede: "Rapidamente, e com toda a precisão, o seu caso será estudado e os resultados far-se-ão sentir logo após a primeira semana. Assim, se realmente pretende mudar a sua vida e a dos seus entes mais queridos, não hesite, dê, hoje mesmo, o passo que o pode levar a viver dias mais felizes".&lt;br /&gt;Assim, tão fácil? Acho que vou desistir de ser feliz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114751830932436691?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114751830932436691/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114751830932436691' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751830932436691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751830932436691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/ameaa.html' title='A ameaça'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114751801868097565</id><published>2006-05-13T11:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T12:00:18.683+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Viagem (continuação)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 996. Estou a precisar de desintoxicar-me da minha absorvente mania de levar o trabalho demasiado a sério. O mesmo é dizer que estou a precisar de férias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Faltam 62 longos dias...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114751801868097565?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114751801868097565/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114751801868097565' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751801868097565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751801868097565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/viagem-continuao.html' title='Viagem (continuação)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114751740336857085</id><published>2006-05-13T11:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T11:50:03.403+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A viagem</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 995.Ele tinha o delírio das viagens, a ânsia de dispersar-se, a curiosidade insaciável do peregrino. E uma borboleta na barriga. Decidiu partir para Veneza. Sim, ele sabia que não se deve regressar a um local onde se foi feliz, mas também tinha a mania de reacender lenha queimada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114751740336857085?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114751740336857085/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114751740336857085' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751740336857085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114751740336857085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/viagem.html' title='A viagem'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114687857606659613</id><published>2006-05-06T02:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T02:22:56.066+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Deve ser por isso</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 994. Há uma personagem erudita que, de vez em quando, visita-me e traz-me coisas como esta: &lt;br /&gt;Deve ser por isso&lt;br /&gt;que eu não distingo as realidades,&lt;br /&gt;que eu não vejo onde começa o impossível,&lt;br /&gt;que eu sinto a insatisfação dum mesmo sítio&lt;br /&gt;e desejo outro lugar constantemente;&lt;br /&gt;deve ser por isso&lt;br /&gt;que eu não escolho um destino para me assentar depois&lt;br /&gt;e ando a tropeçar à espera, à espera,&lt;br /&gt;sem mesmo disso ter perfeita consciência...&lt;br /&gt;deve ser por isso&lt;br /&gt;que eu estendo a mão para um objecto&lt;br /&gt;e ele está mais longe que o comprimento do meu braço.&lt;br /&gt;Jorge de Sena&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114687857606659613?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114687857606659613/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114687857606659613' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114687857606659613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114687857606659613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/deve-ser-por-isso.html' title='Deve ser por isso'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114687807751959102</id><published>2006-05-06T02:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T12:12:16.916+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a ferida e a borboleta</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 993. Apareceu-lhe uma ferida no pulso durante a noite. Não se recorda de nada. Talvez se tivesse levantado de madrugada e, na escuridão do corredor, tivesse batido com a mão na maçaneta da porta. E apareceu-lhe uma borboleta no quarto. Disso lembra-se. Deixou a janela aberta e quando foi dormir lá estava ela no tecto. Travou uma dura batalha de vassoura na mão para a expulsar. Até que de repente a borboleta caiu morta no chão. Exausta de andar a fugir dele. E ele não teve coragem de fechar a janela. E adormeceu. Mas não se lembra muito bem se foi mesmo assim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114687807751959102?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114687807751959102/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114687807751959102' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114687807751959102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114687807751959102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/ferida-e-borboleta.html' title='a ferida e a borboleta'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114687735453447003</id><published>2006-05-06T02:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T02:02:34.606+01:00</updated><title type='text'>o riso</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 992. &lt;br /&gt;- Há quanto tempo não te lembras de rir nos teus sonhos?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114687735453447003?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114687735453447003/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114687735453447003' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114687735453447003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114687735453447003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-riso.html' title='o riso'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114678155505870298</id><published>2006-05-04T23:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T23:25:55.093+01:00</updated><title type='text'>eu</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 991. Entrei no elevador e ao olhar para o espelho vi o meu rosto multiplicado. Era eu, eu, eu, eu, eu, eu, eu...não tinha fim. Foi então que percebi que isto de ser eu é ainda muito mais complicado do que eu julgava.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114678155505870298?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114678155505870298/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114678155505870298' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114678155505870298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114678155505870298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/eu.html' title='eu'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114670391328474037</id><published>2006-05-04T01:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T01:51:53.286+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bacalhau de cebolada</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 990. O único bacalhau que não gosto é o de cebolada. E cada vez sou menos um francês, rima e é verdade! Por isso, ontem, por força das circunstâncias juntaram-se duas forças negativas contra mim. O dito bacalhau com cebolada e uma citação de Eça de Queirós que me foi impingida: "Os meus romances, no fundo, são franceses, como eu sou, em quase tudo, um francês - excepto num certo fundo sincero de tristeza lírica que é uma característica portuguesa, num gosto depravado pelo fadinho, e no justo amor do bacalhau de cebolada!" (Eça de Queiroz, carta a Oliveira Martins).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114670391328474037?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114670391328474037/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114670391328474037' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114670391328474037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114670391328474037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/bacalhau-de-cebolada.html' title='Bacalhau de cebolada'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114670332580478576</id><published>2006-05-04T01:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T01:42:05.886+01:00</updated><title type='text'>uma história amarga</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 989. Havia o açucar, o mais doce dos alimentos, de contribuir para um dos episódios mais amargos da história da formiga.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114670332580478576?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114670332580478576/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114670332580478576' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114670332580478576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114670332580478576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/05/uma-histria-amarga.html' title='uma história amarga'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114618689970059598</id><published>2006-04-28T02:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T02:14:59.780+01:00</updated><title type='text'>memória</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 988. Descubro tantos anos depois que esta série, afinal, marcou-me para o resto da vida. Porque raio de acaso fui vê-la outra vez?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/136153354/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/44/136153354_70e70d4f53_m.jpg" width="164" height="240" alt="strogof" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114618689970059598?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114618689970059598/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114618689970059598' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114618689970059598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114618689970059598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/memria.html' title='memória'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114618559567869723</id><published>2006-04-28T01:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T22:21:36.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a lavandaria</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 987. Houve uma troca qualquer na lavandaria, ai isso houve. Tenho duas camisas, tenho quase a certeza que não são minhas. São parecidas, mas parecem-me estranhas. Ou então estão a ficar gastas...ou então estou eu a ficar usado de mais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114618559567869723?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114618559567869723/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114618559567869723' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114618559567869723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114618559567869723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/lavandaria.html' title='a lavandaria'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114618528463293835</id><published>2006-04-28T01:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T01:48:04.700+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Insónia</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 986. Só quando o gato adormece é que o rato pode brincar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114618528463293835?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114618528463293835/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114618528463293835' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114618528463293835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114618528463293835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/insnia.html' title='Insónia'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114536851947957098</id><published>2006-04-18T14:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T14:55:19.480+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O beijo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 985. Os lábios de uma japonesa diferem dos lábios de uma escandinávia. Mas o beijo é o mesmo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114536851947957098?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114536851947957098/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114536851947957098' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114536851947957098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114536851947957098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/o-beijo.html' title='O beijo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114536834878910372</id><published>2006-04-18T14:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T14:52:28.866+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O absurdo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 983.Tudo se passa como se o gato me tivesse comido a língua e voltasse de noite para me sussurar palavras ao ouvido enquanto durmo. Por isso tenho uma voz aqui dentro que não se cala. E que inventa. Porque não tem nada para contar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PROBLEMA 984. Quase a dar por encerrado os meus problemas, ou os meus problemas a darem-me por encerrado, não sei, é que descubro que a única coisa que resta em mim é uma voz que fala, sem identidade e sem determinação de espaço e tempo. Sou, por isso, um débito de palavras infinito na lógica gigantesca que é o monólogo do universo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114536834878910372?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114536834878910372/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114536834878910372' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114536834878910372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114536834878910372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/o-absurdo.html' title='O absurdo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114496931377592333</id><published>2006-04-13T23:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T00:01:53.776+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A mosca</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 982. Sou vítima das moscas. Elas reconhecem-me e preferem-me. Caíu uma no meu uísque. Retirei-a minuciosamente com a ajuda de um colher de chá. Para meu espanto ela sobreviveu e voltou a voar. Vou encher outro copo de uísque. Pode ser que me aconteça o mesmo que à mosca. Volte a voar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114496931377592333?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114496931377592333/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114496931377592333' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114496931377592333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114496931377592333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/mosca.html' title='A mosca'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114496897884805668</id><published>2006-04-13T23:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T23:56:18.850+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Diálogos cruzados</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 981.&lt;br /&gt;- A minha vida é um comboio.&lt;br /&gt;- Uma viagem interior.&lt;br /&gt;- Uma voz que chega até mim.&lt;br /&gt;- A vida é uma estação.&lt;br /&gt;- É difícil definir o clima neste meu País. Tenho as quatro estações do dia dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;- Este ano não sei onde vou. Ainda não decidi.&lt;br /&gt;- Espera por mim numa passadeira vermelha.&lt;br /&gt;- Inclino-me para uma explicação para isto.&lt;br /&gt;- O segredo é ter boas parcerias.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114496897884805668?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114496897884805668/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114496897884805668' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114496897884805668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114496897884805668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/dilogos-cruzados_13.html' title='Diálogos cruzados'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114496826772726847</id><published>2006-04-13T23:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T23:44:29.273+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Que dia é hoje?</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 980. O respeito pelas datas, pelo correr do tempo, desaparecia-lhe da mente nos momentos em que se sentia alegre e festivo, com a impressão de liberdade absoluta, de poder fazer o que lhe bem apetecia. E por isso perguntava, com frequência: "Que dia é hoje?". Cada vez menos era assim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114496826772726847?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114496826772726847/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114496826772726847' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114496826772726847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114496826772726847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/que-dia-hoje.html' title='Que dia é hoje?'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114416853922478969</id><published>2006-04-04T17:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T17:35:39.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os segredos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 979.&lt;br /&gt;- Que tens nos bolsos?&lt;br /&gt;- Segredos.&lt;br /&gt;- Mas que pode esconder um homem nos bolsos?&lt;br /&gt;- Segredos.&lt;br /&gt;- E se os bolsos estiverem rotos?&lt;br /&gt;- Lá se vão os segredos.&lt;br /&gt;- Queres que te coza os bolsos?&lt;br /&gt;- Para quê?&lt;br /&gt;- Para não perderes os teus segredos.&lt;br /&gt;- Perco-os à mesma.&lt;br /&gt;- Como?&lt;br /&gt;- Segredo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114416853922478969?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114416853922478969/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114416853922478969' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114416853922478969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114416853922478969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/os-segredos.html' title='Os segredos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114416822814597538</id><published>2006-04-04T17:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T17:31:03.486+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bolachas Maria</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 978.Comer uma, duas, três bolachas Maria antes de adormecer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114416822814597538?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114416822814597538/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114416822814597538' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114416822814597538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114416822814597538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/04/bolachas-maria.html' title='Bolachas Maria'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114384096323459774</id><published>2006-03-31T22:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T22:36:03.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A ligação das coisas (continua)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 977. É só para dizer que a camisola de lã continua agarrada ao tronco de árvore.O caracol desapareceu. Desapareceu, não. Deve ter ido apanhar sol para outro lado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114384096323459774?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114384096323459774/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114384096323459774' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114384096323459774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114384096323459774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/ligao-das-coisas-continua_31.html' title='A ligação das coisas (continua)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114384053933489700</id><published>2006-03-31T22:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T22:28:59.353+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Anjo da guarda</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 976.&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/120908491/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/38/120908491_a66f078483.jpg" width="250" height="190" alt="45277831_7087c916c0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afinal, o meu anjo da guarda era eu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114384053933489700?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114384053933489700/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114384053933489700' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114384053933489700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114384053933489700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/anjo-da-guarda.html' title='Anjo da guarda'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114383985255497046</id><published>2006-03-31T22:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T22:17:32.570+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a memória</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 975. A vida não é a que cada um viveu, mas a que recorda e como recorda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114383985255497046?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114383985255497046/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114383985255497046' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114383985255497046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114383985255497046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/memria.html' title='a memória'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114334016492458041</id><published>2006-03-26T03:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T03:34:42.270+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a ligação das coisas (continua)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 974. A verdade é que a camisola de lã e o caracol continuam juntos passados estes dias. Mas agora já não estão por terra. Alguém pegou neles e prendeu-os a um tronco de árvore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114334016492458041?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114334016492458041/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114334016492458041' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114334016492458041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114334016492458041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/ligao-das-coisas-continua.html' title='a ligação das coisas (continua)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114333895602256200</id><published>2006-03-26T03:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T03:12:31.303+01:00</updated><title type='text'>acertar o passo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 973. Então a vida é apenas acertar o passo com o tempo? Tenho de adiantar o relógio mais uma hora, é isso? E depois lá mais para a frente voltar a atrasar? Vamos lá a ver se consigo. Nunca fui à tropa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114333895602256200?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114333895602256200/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114333895602256200' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114333895602256200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114333895602256200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/acertar-o-passo.html' title='acertar o passo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114333861057456519</id><published>2006-03-26T02:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T03:13:54.196+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Neura</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 972. Estava com a neura e deu-lhe para ir à praia. Estava um frio de gelar mas mesmo assim aventurou-se. Sempre podia telefonar a dizer que não podia ir hoje trabalhar porque sofreu uma intoxicação alimentar. Sentou-se numa esplanada, à beira-mar, e deliciou-se com um arroz de marisco, vinho branco gelado e umas ostras de entrada. Este era o outro dele próprio. Porque ele próprio estava com a neura mas sentado à secretária a despachar serviço.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114333861057456519?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114333861057456519/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114333861057456519' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114333861057456519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114333861057456519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/neura.html' title='Neura'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114272885713189884</id><published>2006-03-19T00:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-19T00:40:57.146Z</updated><title type='text'>a ligação das coisas</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 971. Um camisola de lã azul e cinzenta deixada ao abandono repousa na terra molhada. Porque choveu. Um caracol descansa numa das mangas. Porque sim. De quem seria a camisola? Porque está ali tão deixada de todo? Que irá acontecer ao caracol? Porque foi ele ali parar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114272885713189884?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114272885713189884/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114272885713189884' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114272885713189884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114272885713189884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/ligao-das-coisas.html' title='a ligação das coisas'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114272819534798316</id><published>2006-03-19T00:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-19T00:29:55.363Z</updated><title type='text'>O amor</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 970. A condição das relações humanas chegou a este ponto.Final. Uma conversa que ouvi no comboio, onde um rapaz ao telemóvel dizia mais ou menos isto: "Amo-te muito, mas à distância. Consegues compreender?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114272819534798316?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114272819534798316/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114272819534798316' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114272819534798316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114272819534798316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-amor.html' title='O amor'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114251344785809170</id><published>2006-03-16T12:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-16T12:50:47.876Z</updated><title type='text'>os sonhos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 969.&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/113275621/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/40/113275621_dcd51fa9cc_m.jpg" width="167" height="240" alt="Digitalizar" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114251344785809170?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114251344785809170/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114251344785809170' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114251344785809170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114251344785809170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/os-sonhos.html' title='os sonhos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114238786906822185</id><published>2006-03-15T01:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-15T02:02:48.620Z</updated><title type='text'>a meteorologia</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 968.Pronto.Um determinado estado de espírito acabou de chegar e contagiar as pessoas. A pele liberta-se. A roupa diminiu. O sorriso alarga. O andar solta-se. O entusiamo cresce. As conversas animam. Começa-se a marcar as férias nos empregos com um sentimento de nostalgia do futuro. Mas também acabam de chegar os espirros. A tosse. As gripes. Hoje está calor, amanhã volta o frio. Uma chatice. Não sei o que vestir. &lt;br /&gt;É tudo pois uma questão de meteorologia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/112668801/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/53/112668801_eb3d8b0a00_m.jpg" width="171" height="240" alt="coke1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114238786906822185?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114238786906822185/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114238786906822185' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114238786906822185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114238786906822185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/meteorologia.html' title='a meteorologia'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114216980806777222</id><published>2006-03-12T13:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-12T13:23:28.070Z</updated><title type='text'>O telescópio</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 967.&lt;br /&gt;- Para que queres um telescópio?&lt;br /&gt;- Para estar mais perto das estrelas.&lt;br /&gt;- Vou comprar também um para mim...&lt;br /&gt;- Para quê?&lt;br /&gt;- Para estar mais perto de ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114216980806777222?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114216980806777222/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114216980806777222' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114216980806777222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114216980806777222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-telescpio.html' title='O telescópio'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114216935935760164</id><published>2006-03-12T13:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-12T13:16:00.400Z</updated><title type='text'>Foda-se</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 966. A expressão "pra caralho" talvez seja a que traduz melhor a ideia de quantidade. Ela tende ao infinito. É quase uma expressão matemática, física. É o Pi. A Via Láctea tem estrelas "pra caralho", o sol é quente "pra caralho", o universo é antigo "pra caralho". E o "foda-se"? Existe algo mais libertário do que o conceito de "foda-se"? O "foda-se" aumenta a auto-estima "pra caralho".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114216935935760164?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114216935935760164/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114216935935760164' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114216935935760164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114216935935760164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/foda-se.html' title='Foda-se'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114203046424500649</id><published>2006-03-10T22:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-10T22:46:21.996Z</updated><title type='text'>TV Cabo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 965. Acabo de me viciar na TV Cabo. Do 1 ao 94 é uma solidão.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114203046424500649?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114203046424500649/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114203046424500649' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114203046424500649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114203046424500649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/tv-cabo.html' title='TV Cabo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114185729347047693</id><published>2006-03-08T22:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-10T22:42:36.186Z</updated><title type='text'>A camisola</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 964. A frase na camisola começou por dar-me redobrado ânimo. Uma exaltação surpreendente. "Somos todos especiais". O pior foi quando li o resto. "Para Deus".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114185729347047693?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114185729347047693/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114185729347047693' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114185729347047693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114185729347047693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/camisola.html' title='A camisola'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114185703744914951</id><published>2006-03-08T22:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-15T01:34:02.666Z</updated><title type='text'>rabiscos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 963. Aqueles apontamentos escritos a lápis nas margens dos livros. Quando os releio, alguns tornam-se incompreensíveis, outros ganham clareza.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114185703744914951?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114185703744914951/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114185703744914951' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114185703744914951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114185703744914951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/rabiscos.html' title='rabiscos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114164142229622295</id><published>2006-03-06T10:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-06T10:37:02.310Z</updated><title type='text'>Colisão</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 962. Porque cada vez mais colidimos uns com os outros, porque se trata de um asfixiante stress causado pela necessidade de vencer em meios de feroz competição e, mais do que isso, sobreviver num meio marcado pela insegurança. Recupero palavras do escritor espanhol Arturo Pérez-Reverte: "Educamos as crianças a viver em falsa harmonia. Quando a realidade crua e dura chega, já é tarde para corrigir o disparate. Em vez de usarmos analgésicos contra a dor, preferimos enfrentar a realidade já anestesiados".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s O melhor filme de 2005 foi "Colisão", do canadiano Paul Haggis, argumentista e produtor de "Million Dollar Baby". Aplaudo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114164142229622295?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114164142229622295/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114164142229622295' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114164142229622295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114164142229622295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/coliso.html' title='Colisão'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114163967065394384</id><published>2006-03-06T09:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-06T10:07:50.656Z</updated><title type='text'>os problemas da alma</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 961. Cartão não introduzido correctamente. Retire o cartão. Introduza novamente o cartão com o chip virado para baixo e segundo a seta. Caso o problema se mantenha, consulte as instruções de instalação ou ligue por favor para o serviço de apoio ao cliente.&lt;br /&gt;(anotações sobre a alma depois de uma avaria na minha tv cabo)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114163967065394384?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114163967065394384/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114163967065394384' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114163967065394384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114163967065394384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/os-problemas-da-alma_06.html' title='os problemas da alma'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114147438672584927</id><published>2006-03-04T12:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-04T12:14:49.470Z</updated><title type='text'>O trabalho</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 959. Se trabalhas para viver porque te matas a trabalhar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PROBLEMA 960. Um gajo aceita um emprego e aquilo que ele é no trabalho passa a ser o que ele é.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114147438672584927?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114147438672584927/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114147438672584927' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147438672584927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147438672584927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-trabalho.html' title='O trabalho'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114147418479638626</id><published>2006-03-04T11:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-04T12:11:48.180Z</updated><title type='text'>A ilusão</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 958. As pessoas preferem viver na recusa e colocar a vida em risco - tudo o que deseja está ao alcance - a encarar a verdade sobre elas próprias. Onde raio estão estas últimas pessoas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/107564911/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="Digitalizar0001" src="http://static.flickr.com/43/107564911_b3b2a3d85e_m.jpg" width="175" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114147418479638626?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114147418479638626/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114147418479638626' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147418479638626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147418479638626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/iluso.html' title='A ilusão'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114147284711940061</id><published>2006-03-04T11:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-04T11:48:34.686Z</updated><title type='text'>A ratoeira</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 957. Surpreendi o gato a aconselhar o rato a mudar de direcção. Quando o rato virar a esquina vai dar conta do quanto foi mal aconselhado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114147284711940061?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114147284711940061/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114147284711940061' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147284711940061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147284711940061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/ratoeira.html' title='A ratoeira'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114147271338403145</id><published>2006-03-04T11:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-04T11:45:15.826Z</updated><title type='text'>O duplo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 956. Esteja ele onde estiver, gostava de fazer uma pergunta ao meu duplo: "Não estás cansado de ser eu? Não queres trocar?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114147271338403145?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114147271338403145/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114147271338403145' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147271338403145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114147271338403145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-duplo.html' title='O duplo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114125994039755998</id><published>2006-03-02T00:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-02T00:39:00.416Z</updated><title type='text'>O tempo</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 955.&lt;br /&gt;"Sou filho desta terra&lt;br /&gt;e vou fazendo anos&lt;br /&gt;pois não se pode&lt;br /&gt;estar sem fazer nada"&lt;br /&gt;Ruy Belo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114125994039755998?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114125994039755998/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114125994039755998' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114125994039755998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114125994039755998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-tempo.html' title='O tempo'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114117399716764713</id><published>2006-03-01T00:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-01T00:46:37.183Z</updated><title type='text'>Publicidade</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 954.&lt;br /&gt;- Pai, não fiques a ver os comboios passar.&lt;br /&gt;Ou quando esta coisa da publicidade se pode virar contra nós próprios...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114117399716764713?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114117399716764713/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114117399716764713' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114117399716764713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114117399716764713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/03/publicidade.html' title='Publicidade'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114100908109524314</id><published>2006-02-27T02:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T02:58:01.096Z</updated><title type='text'>A matéria de que somos feitos (conclusão)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 953.&lt;strong&gt; 2469&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114100908109524314?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114100908109524314/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114100908109524314' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100908109524314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100908109524314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/matria-de-que-somos-feitos-concluso.html' title='A matéria de que somos feitos (conclusão)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114100896264402648</id><published>2006-02-27T02:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T03:00:31.576Z</updated><title type='text'>A matéria de que somos feitos ( fim)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 952. A personalidade &lt;strong&gt;9 &lt;/strong&gt;define pessoas reservadas, cautelosas, tímidas mas profundamente interessantes. O seu caminho é de evolução espiritual e de luta contra a vertente animal da personalidade; procura o conhecimento filosófico, captar a alma e a mente humana.Embora gostem de partilhar preferem ter o seu espaço próprio, os seus rituais diários, grande privacidade. Não se expõem facilmente mas quando o fazem a vitória é quase certa. São surpreendentes, pois têm dentro de si capacidades que à primeira vista não ressaltam. São muito sinceras e honestas, capazes de grande dedicação e amor. Numa crise podem ser os últimos a abandonar o barco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114100896264402648?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114100896264402648/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114100896264402648' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100896264402648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100896264402648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/matria-de-que-somos-feitos-fim.html' title='A matéria de que somos feitos ( fim)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114100875305584194</id><published>2006-02-27T02:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T03:00:08.856Z</updated><title type='text'>A matéria de que somos feitos (continua)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 951. A personalidade &lt;strong&gt;6 &lt;/strong&gt;define pessoas de bom carácter, alegres, sensíveis e bondosas. Muitas vezes o excesso de sensibilidade leva a que actuem com base em emoções o que traz penalizações e por vezes aproveitamentos.São pessoas de bom gosto, com encanto e elegância naturais que muitas vezes é fonte de inveja para quem não tem estes dons naturais. A natureza artística nasce com eles.Gostam de ser prestáveis e de ajudar quem precisa de forma totalmente desinteressada. Uma das suas dificuldades é lidar com o dinheiro pois têm pouca vocação para contas. No amor, são ardentes e sinceros e sofrem grandes desgostos se se sentem enganados. Os choques emocionais podem originar estados depressivos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114100875305584194?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114100875305584194/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114100875305584194' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100875305584194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100875305584194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/matria-de-que-somos-feitos-continua.html' title='A matéria de que somos feitos (continua)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114100829478922702</id><published>2006-02-27T02:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T02:59:44.013Z</updated><title type='text'>A matéria do que somos feitos (continuação)</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 950. A personalidade&lt;strong&gt; 4&lt;/strong&gt; define pessoas muito cativas, trabalhadoras e persistentes.Têm grande capacidade de luta e uma grande vantagem sobre outros, já que aguentam grandes pressões e aguentam onde outros falham; desistir não faz parte do seu vocabulário. Há quem os considere teimosos, é certo, mas neste caso trata-se de uma qualidade pois trata-se de convicções e capacidade de honrar compromissos.&lt;br /&gt;Não abrem facilmente mão do que conquistaram; dão grande valor ao que têm e ao que é conseguido com esforço e suor.No amor ambicionam estabilidade e segurança e por vezes tornam-se possessivos e ciumentos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114100829478922702?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114100829478922702/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114100829478922702' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100829478922702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100829478922702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/matria-do-que-somos-feitos-continuao.html' title='A matéria do que somos feitos (continuação)'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114100790208306547</id><published>2006-02-27T02:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T02:59:16.993Z</updated><title type='text'>A matéria do que somos feitos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 949.A personalidade &lt;strong&gt;2 &lt;/strong&gt;define pessoas instáveis e que pensam demais sobre as coisas, na procura do equilíbrio, da justiça e das certezas, ponto que não conseguem alcançar.Dotadas de grande capacidade de observação e análise, nem sempre conseguem tirar conclusões definitivas ou fazê-lo em tempo útil; a análise exaustiva e pormenorizada leva muitas vezes a que caiam em estados de confusão e indecisão.&lt;br /&gt;A esta personalidade está associada alguma passividade já que não tomam iniciativas com rapidez ou força.São muito sensíveis e gostam de conhecer outras pessoas, sobretudo pelo valor intrínseco de cada uma; não são muito dadas a aspectos exteriores.São muito compreensivas e conseguem trazer bem estar e harmonia aos outros. São bons amigos e bons conselheiros no seu aspecto mais evoluído.&lt;br /&gt;No amor são fiéis e dedicados mas inseguros.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114100790208306547?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114100790208306547/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114100790208306547' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100790208306547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100790208306547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/matria-do-que-somos-feitos.html' title='A matéria do que somos feitos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114100262129605672</id><published>2006-02-27T00:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T01:10:21.343Z</updated><title type='text'>Ideal</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 948. A literatura e o cinema são os culpados. Passamos a vida a fantasiar um ideal de seja o que for. Quando damos pelo logro, pode ser tarde.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114100262129605672?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114100262129605672/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114100262129605672' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100262129605672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114100262129605672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/ideal.html' title='Ideal'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114083440939337874</id><published>2006-02-25T02:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-25T02:26:49.396Z</updated><title type='text'>O amor</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 947. Mas será que alguém escapa às dores do amor?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114083440939337874?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114083440939337874/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114083440939337874' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083440939337874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083440939337874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-amor.html' title='O amor'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114083423563876262</id><published>2006-02-25T02:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-25T02:23:55.640Z</updated><title type='text'>Cometa</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 946.&lt;br /&gt;- Cometa essa loucura!&lt;br /&gt;- Qual?&lt;br /&gt;- Um dia destes, entra em rota de colisão&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114083423563876262?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114083423563876262/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114083423563876262' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083423563876262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083423563876262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/cometa.html' title='Cometa'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114083397205679916</id><published>2006-02-25T02:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-25T02:22:03.093Z</updated><title type='text'>O comboio</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 945. Quem conduz um comboio, de lá para cá, de cá para lá, pouca-terra, muita-terra, é um coveiro de almas que todos os dias morrem um bocadinho, de lá para cá, de cá para lá, pouca-terra, muita-terra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114083397205679916?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114083397205679916/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114083397205679916' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083397205679916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083397205679916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-comboio.html' title='O comboio'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114083381616713966</id><published>2006-02-25T02:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-25T02:25:17.486Z</updated><title type='text'>sistema nervoso</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 944. E se o universo estivesse a trabalhar nos nossos nervos?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114083381616713966?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114083381616713966/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114083381616713966' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083381616713966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083381616713966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/sistema-nervoso.html' title='sistema nervoso'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114083372831950981</id><published>2006-02-25T02:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-25T02:15:28.336Z</updated><title type='text'>O mundo sem palavras</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 943. Um agente da PSP hirto e firme à porta de uma relojoaria, de manhã até ao fim da tarde, não diz uma palavra, nem bom dia, nem boa tarde, ouve música. E o cão, um Serra da Estrela, deitado na calçada, dorme o dia todo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114083372831950981?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114083372831950981/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114083372831950981' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083372831950981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114083372831950981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-mundo-sem-palavras.html' title='O mundo sem palavras'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114039103908759141</id><published>2006-02-19T23:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-19T23:17:19.086Z</updated><title type='text'>Os sonhos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 942. O que nos poderia acontecer se não sonhassemos durante a noite?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114039103908759141?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114039103908759141/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114039103908759141' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114039103908759141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114039103908759141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/os-sonhos.html' title='Os sonhos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114039090668184964</id><published>2006-02-19T23:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-19T23:15:06.696Z</updated><title type='text'>A nossa sociedade</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 941. “A sociedade portuguesa está construída com base em chefes e empregados, o que é transportado para a vertente desportiva sob a forma de treinadores e jogadores. Isso não é correcto. O treinador não ordena, dá conselhos. É essencial formar jogadores com personalidade para tomar as melhores decisões para a equipa durante um jogo. Nenhum atleta de top olha para o treinador à espera que este lhe diga o que fazer”.&lt;br /&gt;Mats Olsson, seleccionador nacional de Andebol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114039090668184964?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114039090668184964/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114039090668184964' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114039090668184964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114039090668184964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/nossa-sociedade.html' title='A nossa sociedade'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114014093488992986</id><published>2006-02-17T01:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-17T01:48:54.906Z</updated><title type='text'>Comunicado</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 940. Segundo anunciou há poucos minutos o gabinete de trabalho que investiga a mente do autor destes escritos, num curto comunicado difundido para as pequenas comunidades, está para breve a colocação de um ponto final nos problemas.&lt;br /&gt;E agora? Pois. Não se pode estar sem fazer nada?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114014093488992986?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114014093488992986/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114014093488992986' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114014093488992986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114014093488992986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/comunicado.html' title='Comunicado'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114013587441358493</id><published>2006-02-17T00:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-17T00:24:34.493Z</updated><title type='text'>A carta dos nossos tempos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 939.&lt;br /&gt;Meu caro:&lt;br /&gt;És tão vulgar que dislatas veneno. Tens dinheiro mas não compras a alegria. Hás-de ser escravo dos teus pensamentos lascivos, de entretenimento, como se pela tua mente ocorresse uma telenovela sem fim. Não fazes, enfim, mais que procurar expulsar da tua alma o tédio em que vives. Mas segues o caminho errado. A presença dos charlatões, dos bobos desta vida, sempre com as orelhas arrebitadas e a debitar ordens, quais chefes de esquadra, conseguem arrancar-me um sorriso. Os aduladores fazem do branco preto, transformam uma mosca num elefante, compoem uma música que quase sempre não vem a propósito. Mas apraz-me verificar  que continuas a pavonear-te, a levantar a crista, rindo aos montes. O dia da tua queda está para breve, sabes disso, não sabes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114013587441358493?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114013587441358493/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114013587441358493' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114013587441358493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114013587441358493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/carta-dos-nossos-tempos.html' title='A carta dos nossos tempos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-114004656816851326</id><published>2006-02-15T23:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-15T23:36:08.213Z</updated><title type='text'>Perspectiva</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 938.&lt;br /&gt;- Se tiveres uma perspectiva cósmica dos problemas, eles atenuam-se. Quanto mais do alto dos teus pensamentos contemplares os teus problemas, menos problemáticos parecerão.&lt;br /&gt;- Será mesmo assim?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-114004656816851326?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/114004656816851326/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=114004656816851326' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114004656816851326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/114004656816851326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/perspectiva.html' title='Perspectiva'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-113996842453245791</id><published>2006-02-15T01:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-16T00:40:03.033Z</updated><title type='text'>Ainda o rouxinol</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 937. Ele voltou. E desconfio que simpatiza comigo. E eu com ele. Começo a habituar-me à ideia de ter um amigo novo. Tenho é de comprar bolachas com mais frequência. Parece que aprecia as migalhas que deixo de propósito em cima da mesa. Ontem também lhe dei um pouco de água. E gostou. Só há um inconveniente nesta história. É de manhã cedo o canto do rouxinol substituir o despertador programado sempre para mais tarde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Photo Sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035638129@N01/99883275/"&gt;&lt;img height="162" alt="bdb_rouxinol" src="http://static.flickr.com/36/99883275_d6587a1902_m.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-113996842453245791?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/113996842453245791/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=113996842453245791' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113996842453245791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113996842453245791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/ainda-o-rouxinol.html' title='Ainda o rouxinol'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-113983171320842486</id><published>2006-02-13T11:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-13T11:55:13.223Z</updated><title type='text'>O rouxinol</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 936. Um rouxinol entrou na sala e comeu as migalhas que restavam na mesa. Deixei a varanda aberta. Depois começou a voar pela casa e perdi o rasto dele. Não sei se ainda está dentro de casa ou se já foi à vida dele. Não sei se feche a varanda...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-113983171320842486?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/113983171320842486/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=113983171320842486' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113983171320842486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113983171320842486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-rouxinol.html' title='O rouxinol'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-113983057065190980</id><published>2006-02-13T11:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-13T11:36:10.673Z</updated><title type='text'>Os barcos</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 935. O destino de um barco é navegar ou chegar a um porto?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-113983057065190980?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/113983057065190980/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=113983057065190980' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113983057065190980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113983057065190980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/os-barcos.html' title='Os barcos'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7076607.post-113953263362788476</id><published>2006-02-10T00:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-10T16:59:57.846Z</updated><title type='text'>O limpa-chaminés</title><content type='html'>PROBLEMA 934. O mundo em que vivemos está mais a precisar de um limpa-chaminés do que lambe-botas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7076607-113953263362788476?l=nproblemas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/feeds/113953263362788476/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7076607&amp;postID=113953263362788476' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113953263362788476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7076607/posts/default/113953263362788476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nproblemas.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-limpa-chamins.html' title='O limpa-chaminés'/><author><name>os meus ene problemas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11906062843907563667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
