# 678

Araki cola.

# 677

Dois minutos da minha mais inteira felicidade.

# 676

Eliseu.

# 675

In my tribe.

# 674

Cinema mudo.

# 673

Pescador de pérolas.

# 672

There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.

# 671

All doubts vanished when Patrick Stewart announced his wedding plans with the singer and songwriter Sunny Ozell. The ceremony took place last September on the shores of Lake Tahoe (USA). At this stage of the game, it’s pretty easy to guess who the Master of Ceremony was…

# 670

Sempre quis saber como é uma sauna gay mas nunca teve coragem de tocar à porta.

# 669

# 668

The way you make me feel ain't nobody's business.

# 667

Imitação da vida. Maior do que a vida.

# 666

Groove is in the heart.

# 665

Viviane Sassen.

# 664

A páginas tantas «I am photographed for Creem magazine with my head resting on Jake's exposed belly.
  'Do you know what you're doing?' asks new manager Arnold Stiefel.
  'No?' I say in a small voice.
  'Well, that's a very intimate shot.'
  'Oh?' I say, baffled.
  'A man doesn't rest his head on another man's stomach,' Arnold goes on.
  'No?' I answer, all adrift on the cruel sea.»

# 663

Nascido para cuidar.

# 662

Feminismo IV.

# 661

A vida de Pi.

# 660

Para a M.M. 

«I look out of the bedroom window and can see the university buildings just across a windswept car park. Only a five-minute walk away is the union bar. 'I'll head over there,' I think, 'and see if I can spot anyone I know.' A couple of other girls from school have come up to Hull, so in the bar I scan the room for familiar faces, but can see no one. I start queuing for a drink when an announcement comes ringing out over the tannoy system: ‘If Tracey of the Marine Girls is in the building, will she please come to reception.’ Now I’d be lying if I implied that this was a complete shock – I had already been told earlier in the summer by Mike Akway that a label-mate of mine on Cherry Red, a solo artist called Ben Watt, was going to Hull at the same time, though I barely took it in at all. Mike had pointed out Ben’s photo on the wall at the Cherry Red offices, but again I took no notice, and he also gave me a copy of Ben’s first single ‘Cant’, and I still took no notice. Hearing this message broadcast, I realise it is probably Ben trying to track me down, and he suddenly seems like a possible kindred spirit in this hellish place full of prats in rugby shirts and girls who hide their Tampax behind flowery curtains. I make my way up the stairs to reception and there he is, leaning against a pillar.»

# 659

Vejo um gato, por dentro e por fora.

(foto: Jean-Marie Périer)