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Saudades de Galata



Nem é tanto pelo chá. Muito menos pelo crepúsculo. O que eu gosto mesmo na Ponte de Galata é a chamada para a oração acompanhada de um herético tinto da Anatólia. E de apertar aquelas mãos todas em dizer que sim, que gosto muito do Ronaldo, e do Figo e... Tem a sua piada, Istambul deixa-me sempre saudades. Oh, como eu gosto dos seus cacilheiros e das deliciosas sandes de peixe a três liras (ou quatro)!

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19 kinds of girls who bruise my soul

By João Lopes Marques (Eesti keeles)


There was a time, not too long ago, I believed I had become a misogynous guy. False. I wasn’t. Then I started fearing I was slightly gynophobic. Nope. I was just afraid to bump into another stupid girl. It wasn’t easy to understand it but 10 or 15 years later I realize I’m just too sensitive to 19 specific species of women. Indeed, I can even turn intolerant in presence of one of them. Such a phenomenon can be either personal taste or old trauma, I know. However, I don’t care anymore. I just confess the following kind of females have the power to bruise my soul:


1- The hologram girl

You think everything is fine, that that closeness is real, and you stretch your arm. Of course you wanted more and she let you play that game. For a week. A month. Sometimes even for years. Helàs! Now you understand you were living in a dream. “Why did she give me so many wrong signs”, you wonder; “João, I’ve seen you always as a very good friend”, she states.


2- The drink-…