I heard it once: for a wise, half a word is enough (Para bom entendedor, meia palavra basta). Clearly, no foreigner learning Portuguese could have invented that saying!
Did I get it right? Portuguese oranges are made of gold in the morning, turn into silver in the afternoon and kill people at night (A laranja de manhã é ouro, à tarde é prata e à noite mata)!!
What’s the reason for these sudden mood swings?! Portuguese oranges are real bit#$%!
Furthermore, why keep on growing these evil seeds?! I was morbidly fascinated, yet I feared for those who live in Allgarve. How high would the farmers’ murder’s rate be? Strangely enough, I have never seen a headline with “6 murdered by orange gang” (or concentrate orange juice, in the real world).
And then it hit me: in a land where people eat pork from heaven (toucinho do céu) and those who don´t cry don´t get snacks (Quem não chora não mama), why wouldn’t oranges be serial killers?
From that moment on, I decided: I should not play slim with oranges!
Todos os meses uma palavra nova, numa mensagem nossa, como um sussurro ao ouvido.
