Douglas Adams - The Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy (po ko zna koji put).

Da, to ne moze da dosadi. Najvise volim deo sa Tvorcem sendvica.

 

Uzela sam Stendala, "Lamiel". danas pocinjem da citam, videcu kakav je.

Momo Kapor- "Beleshke jedne Ane" i "Hej,nisam ti to prichala"

volim mnogo Kapora,

Momo Kapor- "Beleshke jedne Ane" i "Hej,nisam ti to prichala" :wub:

volim mnogo Kapora,

 

od 4. do 8. razreda procitao oba dela nekih 5-6 puta.. biblija

aha,mnogo je slatko ..... ,prochitash onako u dahu,a ima tako slatkih i lepih rechenica...

mada ,"Una " mi je favorit

Biblijske legende od Zenona Kosidovskog u pauzama od membrum superius iz anatomije... :sigh:

Zli dusi -Dostojevski

Biblijske legende od Zenona Kosidovskog u pauzama od membrum superius iz anatomije... :sigh:

eeee Kosidowski je mnogo dobar! (bas cudno sto ja ovo kazem ha ha ha)

Zli dusi -Dostojevski

Kakva je? Je l' ti se svidja?

uvod u arheologiju

e za pravo cudo nemam pojma sta da citam, malo me mrzucka da blejim u monitor i citam iako bih tako imala prilican izbor svega i svacega, ali nekako mi laske da sedim i listam papire, ali ne znam sta...uh sto me to nervira...a ne mogu sad da citam teorijske knjige ili ne d'o Bog recnike...tako da JOOOOOOJ sta citati?

a ne mogu sad da citam teorijske knjige ili ne d'o Bog recnike...tako da JOOOOOOJ sta citati?

..a kakve knjige/price volis?

 

 

nr Zindovic-Vukadinovic, Vaspitni uticaj medija

Edited October 22, 200519 yr by Joca

..a kakve knjige/price volis?

 

 

nr Zindovic-Vukadinovic, Vaspitni uticaj medija

Vaspitni uticaj medija??? uh sto tako nesto ne bih citala...bljak...a inace zaista mnogo toga volim pa ne bih da gusim temu sa spiskom toga sta ja volim

Vaspitni uticaj medija??? uh sto tako nesto ne bih citala...bljak...a inace zaista mnogo toga volim pa ne bih da gusim temu sa spiskom toga sta ja volim

Ma, pedagogija.. z-lo..

 

A nesto ovako mozda:

 

Childhood Memory

 

My father comes into my room. "Look," he says. He carefully opens his hands; a luminous, gold-colored butterfly sits in the bowl of his palms, like a light he has carried into the dark room. I prop myself up on a hand in the pillows, gazing in awe. The butterfly remains still for a while; then it twitches its wings. We watch it flutter in a curving, luminescent course to the window, and then under the sash and out into the night.

We go downstairs and noiselessly out the back door onto the dark lawn. My father points up at a tree: a halo flickers around its crown. In its topmost leaves a golden colony hovers. "They'll be there all night," says my father, his voice a whisper. I stand beside him in my pajamas, spellbound and feeling a strange, tranquil enchantment, as if the night had turned into my bedroom. "Where do they come from?" I ask my father. "From the moon," he says softly. We look at the moon. "At least," he says, "that's what I've always been told."

 

Snow

 

I go to the train station to meet my girlfriend. I am wearing all kinds of scarves against the weather. It is snowing. The train comes in but my girlfriend isn't on it. A conductor covered with snowballs informs me that my girlfriend has had plastic surgery without telling me, and the operation got fouled up, and now she's too ashamed ever to see me again.

I go home, a multitude of ambivalences battling within me. I keep peering about for anyone swathed in bandages, in case she might have come out here secretly on the bus.

At home, I remember the telephone in the freezer. I take it out. The surface of the receiver is brown and wilted, like old lettuce. But the inside will probably still be good. "She can use this to graft with," I think. I turn on the tap in the sink and begin carefully scraping off the outside of the receiver. The phone rings in my hands. I don't answer it, I want to surprise her. The ringing goes on a long time before stopping. I start to feel guilty. What if she really needed me? I lose heart with the surprise and finally wreck the good stuff by accidentally tearing off a piece.

I go into the bathroom and begin tying knots in the scarves, out of despair. There is a knock at the front door. The train conductor comes in, dripping, and says, "Didn't you recognize me?"

 

uh loodilo me like it, ali posebno mi se dopada Snow bas je kool

eh, imam tri zbirke takvih nenormalnih prica od istog lika, al problem je sto o5 moras da blejis u monitor.. a stampac ne upraznjavas? bdk..

 

Picnic

 

I drive with my parents for a picnic. We stop by a cliff. My father tells me to bring out the picnic basket. The wind lifts the lapel of his jacket. He looks at my mother wildly. He gives a hoarse, trembling moan. He clutches fumbling at her hand. My mother cries out and gapes at him as if stricken. Hand in hand the two of them clamber hurriedly out of the car and lumber towards the cliff and, screaming and shrieking, jump off. There is the brief, diminishing sound of their screams; then abruptly, nothing.

I stand by the car, staring at the edge of the cliff. The wind flutters in my ears. After a while, I fearfully approach the cliff edge, and crouching timidly on my knees, I peer over it. My parents lie near each other on the rocks, like rag doll replicas of themselves. Their clasp has come undone. The waves splash over their shoes, up over their legs and hips. I crawl backwards several feet, and then rise.

Back at the car there is a note pinned to the picnic basket. I look at it, but it means nothing to me, as I'm not old enough to read cursive script. I poke somberly through the contents of the picnic basket, most of which is beyond my taste. I open a bottle of pickled onions and sniff it with displeasure and put it aside. I find three slices of cake. I eat one and part of a second, and half of a pear, which I chew sitting in the open back seat of the car. Then for a while I just sit without moving, with the car blanket over my knees as I gaze at the cliff, listening to the sound of the waves coming in and the rustle of the wind. At length, slowly, the light begins to fade around me. I climb down stiffly out of the car. I stand beside it. After a long pause of hesitation, I turn, and start off back down the dirt road by which we'd come -- slowly at first, then with gradually rising haste, until my tottering steps are scrambling along through the evening's gathering shadows.

oh,bozhe...snow !

 

@joca-odushevljenas am knjigom (Belehske jedne Ane)

u novinama pise da im je zvanicni sajt www.beogradskisajamknjiga.com  ... al nesto ne radi.. enivejz, od utorka do ponedeljka.. 

Proradio sajt sajma

 

@veronika -

 

 

 

nr Sevkusic, Principi efikasne komunikacije u nastavi

Edited October 22, 200519 yr by Joca

Zbirka reshenih zadatak iz matematike,vene-

Zbirka reshenih zadatak iz matematike,vene-

vrh!

 

btw - dobro su zamislili ovaj sajt Sajma knjiga, ali im realizacija zamisljenog bas ne ide izgleda

Edited October 22, 200519 yr by Joca

ponovo citam -"Naivan.Super." Erlend Lu

 

 

sonja,shta je to? koji je fazon?

Juce zavrsila "Upitaj prah"-by Dzon Fante. Procitala sam je za dva dana i strava je(uostalom, kao sva Fanteova dela- dobro, sad sam malo subjektivna, mada nisam do sad cula da se nekome nije dopao Fante).

pocinjem danas Igru Prokletstva - Klajv barker...

 

GO, GO, SCI-FI

za FanteTa i za Barkera )

@joca-one priche ?shta je to???