Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie

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Man, that joke was so good that you left me in stitches. I mean, literally. I laughed so f***ing hard, I fell off my stool and took my half full pint of lager with me. Wound up breaking the damn glass and leaving gashes large enough to land flying saucers in. F***ing grand canyons, those wounds. So I got all knitted and crocheted up at the ER. Still, though, fan-f***ing-tastic joke. Well worth the steep medical bills I got now.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.18.2019 @ 10:32 pm


Look, I brought you a bottle of sadness. Drink it up, drink it up, so you’ll feel the weight of the world press so hard into your shoulders that they’ll leave divots – pull your feet down like gravity, your ankles swelling from pitting edema. You’ll be so miserable and fatigued that you’ll need to sit down. But hey, I never forced you to imbibe the sadness; you wanted it. You said so.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.17.2019 @ 12:48 am


I thought about buying a Ford Mustang when I went car shopping – after all, the Christmas bonus I had received from my cozy start-up job was enough for a really nice and sleek automobile, and I was admittedly in the head space of style over substance. However, when I got to the dealership, I noticed that the lights were out, and the doors were boarded shut. A cool breeze picked up around my ankles as I walked across the beaten down gray parking lot toward the shuttered entrance.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.14.2019 @ 1:31 pm


‘Twas an overcast day on a less than sunny May, and I was hoping for some smoking on the pier down by the bay. Just when I thought I was free, an old man came up to me, croaking like he was on some sort of lung cancer spree. So I tossed my cigarettes, saved some money on my checks, and wound chewing so much gum I pulled a muscle in my chest.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.13.2019 @ 11:07 pm




“Can we change the channel to the college softball tournament? My sister’s playing.”

The manager of the Lucky Stars Bar and Grille lowered his knuckles from his sweaty brow and gave his best bartender a look. “We got a UFC fight on in ten minutes.”

“Just one screen? In the corner? Nobody watches the TV in the corner.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.11.2019 @ 6:22 pm


Want to ride in my silver taxi? Pay the fare upfront, and you’ll be well on your way to Anywhere: Any Time and Any Place. Feel like cruising to the other side of the city, where the lights pretend to be a little bit brighter. No extra cost, no extra bullsh**. Want a lobster dinner in the middle of the sea? This trusty cab can be a boat, if you please. Or maybe a rocket ship flight to the moon! I can build the wings if you pay me more soon.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.08.2019 @ 8:58 pm


I wasn’t entirely aware of what the store sold, but the moment I noticed all the brands, I knew I was in Corporate Hell. All the familiar logos and trademarks glared at me like multicolored neon eyes, blazing and scorching into my own retinas. Still, I saw shirts that would look good on me, shoes that would fit well. Capitalism was a bitch, but I thrived in it.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.07.2019 @ 5:05 pm


The entire apartment was infested with them. Creeping, crawling, making strange noises. Pretending that they could fly without wings. Leaving everything rotten, every food product ruined, every can emptied. They were attracted to sugar, to alcohol, to salt, to everything. I didn’t know what to do.

So I called an exterminator.

“Ah, the hipsters,” she chuckled as she surveyed the problem. “I’ll play mainstream pop and have ’em out in no time.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.03.2019 @ 8:41 pm


Sometimes when I’m sitting here, minding my own business, tempted to whistle the blues – and I’m ignoring the orange face on TV and the other horrendous news – my brain comes up with:

“Hey, remember that time when you put a picture up of Grumpy Cat the day she died and played audio of, ‘Amazing Grace,’ performed on the bagpipes in the background as a tribute to her?”

…Yeah, that was pretty great.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.27.2019 @ 4:21 pm


We go to the pet store, just in time to see a young woman with two parrots – one perched on each shoulder. We wonder aloud if she’s a pirate, and when she hears our speculation, she laughs and turns to reveal the eyepatch. Instantly, you go red, and you begin apologizing profusely. But she tells us not to worry about it, that she gets those questions and comments all the time.

“If I had a pirate ship,” she confides in us, “I’d call it the Featherbrain.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.24.2019 @ 7:57 pm


What do ya say I take you out on a date? Show up to your house on my tractor and wait ’til you’ve got your pink lipstick on, and then we’ll bump and glide down the country road? I’ll pour you a glass of my finest bourbon, and we’ll drink it under the warm night sky. Them stars start to look like a face, if you squint hard enough. And they smile, too.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.23.2019 @ 10:51 am


Let’s hold hands when it gets dark enough, and let’s kiss under fragrant moonlight; it glows like a white peach and smells like one too.

I wrap you carefully in blankets of shadow. They cast a violet tint across your curly hair. You giggle and press into me, and before we both realize it, we are sailing together on a ship of mist across the bay. The Golden Gate is gorgeous this time of night.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.21.2019 @ 10:25 am


It wasn’t that Marsha was looking to be competitive; it’s that she was good at everything. At lacrosse, at track and field, at math, at English, at trombone, at chess, at Sudoku. She could even make a Sunday crossword with her mom feel like a rivalry-oriented ordeal. She couldn’t help it; it was simply in her blood to work her ass off to do well. And do well she did, all the way until she turned twenty-five, and she didn’t hear the train whistling one drunken night on the tracks because she was too good at being inebriated.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.17.2019 @ 7:16 pm


And in the red corner, we have the Devourer of All Souls. He sits with his tails all fluttering across his stool, drinking a Cosmo and stirring his cold soup with an ivory spoon. He recently got on testosterone, so he’s feeling good in his transition. Soup could use an extra soul, though. And salt.

In the blue corner, the opponent smokes a cigarette and rethinks his challenge.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.10.2019 @ 11:06 pm


I wasn’t sure what to do with my spare time in that classroom all by myself, so I decided to draw something on the whiteboard. It started as a square, but it ultimately transformed into a beaten down treasure chest, guarded by a crooked-necked dragon with green scales and three wings (who knew what the third wing was responsible for). When I was done with my masterpiece, my social studies teacher finally showed up, and his face was a perfect combination of both bewilderment and pleasant surprise.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.04.2019 @ 9:20 pm


If at first you don’t succeed…invest in an aluminum baseball bat and use it to beat the snot and/or tar out of your haters. Then, once they’ve stopped moving, dump their bodies into the sewer because the water system in your hometown is absolute rubbish, and no one will taste anything different about their water. Then, after a few months, move to a small town to the north of your current residence and become a wheat farmer.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.01.2019 @ 4:47 pm


Somehow, I thought I could hear a songbird, for the first time in over fifteen years, tweeting a familiar tune outside my window. It was a tune I had grown familiar with as a child, a tune practically engraved in the shape of a heart on every tree, rippling in every park pond, and tattooed on every child’s sweating forehead as they frolicked around the playground. It sounded like what my mother would hum to me each night before bed, before she disappeared for good.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.29.2019 @ 1:42 pm



“Yeah, man?”

Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her lawn chair. “Why is that planter filled with plastic gnomes?”

“Oh, it’s my gnome crop. You like?”

She stared as he nonchalantly sipped his iced tea. “Gnome…crop?”

“Yeah, the gnome crop always comes in this time of year. I dig them up when they’re ripe and sell ’em at the Farmer’s Market.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.26.2019 @ 10:46 am


We took a walk downtown, braving the warm spring winds before settling in the plaza. She bought two ice cream cones and ate them both when I couldn’t stomach the sugar. I settled on a cup of cold tea, unsweetened, as we sat on the old bench dedicated to the fifteenth mayor of the town. He had managed to double the population during his tenure, so I guess that was worth something made of metal.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.25.2019 @ 9:27 am


“Can I help you with anything?”

“No,” replied the old man wearing a top hat. “I’m just looking.”

He proceeded to shuffle his way into the culinary section, and for the next twenty minutes, he proceeded to stand there, admiring every toaster he came across. He seemed especially fond of the chrome toasters – glistening royal blue and bright red – but certainly didn’t touch them.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.17.2019 @ 7:49 am


How many of you believe that vaccinations harm more than help? And how many of you believe that the Earth is flat? And how many of you are delusional enough to question the moon landing or 9/11? I’m used to conspiracy after conspiracy, and lemme tell y’all, it hurts my head so badly that I debate getting a lobotomy. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to circumnavigate the planet while interviewing Neil Armstrong and simultaneously administering him a tetanus booster.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.13.2019 @ 10:06 am


Play a board game with me, love – or two, or three. Whatever tickles your fancy, really. I’m in high spirits, drunk on pear and cinnamon and ginger. I’m floating on a cloud with armrests and an ottoman, and I’m waiting to hear you laugh as you get a triple word score, or you sink my battleship, or you achieve the ultimate monopoly. Then, while the night is still young, we’ll remain young, too, dancing like children, smiling like strangers, and kissing like confidants.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.09.2019 @ 8:36 pm


He fancies a drink – just don’t pour him one. The man is unstable, can’t you see that? He’s rocking back and forth on his stool, and the creaking is a percussion I can’t stand. I’ve half a mind to drink your finest whiskey straight from the bottle and demand the stuff free of charge. Now he’s singing in a language I’ve never heard of. He’s not in a fit state to do anything, let alone imbibe. Perhaps I’ll play some pool with him if he stops; at the very least, I’ll be guaranteed to win.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.07.2019 @ 9:49 pm


There was something oddly relaxing about sitting in my father’s dusty blue easy chair, sifting through folder after folder of papers, listening to the way they crinkled like a two-dimensional stranger’s nose. What intrigued me, however, was when I got to the letter. It was addressed to an unnamed editor – for a newspaper? A publishing house – and was written in shaky penmanship. Purple ink, oddly enough.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.29.2019 @ 9:18 pm


By the time the sun had finally set, I walked over to the nearest gas station for a six pack and a king-sized candy bar. Andre, the typical cashier, wasn’t on shift – instead, a beautiful young woman with pulled back brown hair was overseeing the till. When she saw me enter, she smiled in that usual “I’m stuck in a service retail job, please shoot me” way as I navigated the tiny aisles.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.27.2019 @ 11:15 am


After sitting and staring in the same spot for nineteen days, I couldn’t help but notice a small, flickering white light in the distance. It was quite dark in the space, so I had to, ironically, squint to get a good look. The light was stark, and cold, but it felt welcoming. I reached out and touched it.

There, I felt a new word form in my throat. At long last, I saw letters. At long last, I could speak again.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.26.2019 @ 10:59 pm


The tea was cold, the cake was dry, and the cookies were so stale that I thought about using them as miniature frisbees. Still, I drank and ate my fill, just to appease my Auntie Nancy. She beamed the whole time at the party, even as most of the food was untouched.

The cucumber sandwiches were delicious, though. I had to give her credit for those. I ate about fifteen of those before I remembered to save some for my sister.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.07.2019 @ 7:36 pm


I never wanted to conform, but I knew that I absolutely had to fit in. So I wore the same colors as they did, the same make-up as they did. I pulled my hair back so tightly that my follicles screamed in pain, and my forehead shone like an unwanted half-moon. I wear black-rimmed glasses. Carried the same red leatherbound book. And ultimately, I was accepted.

I was part of their family now. “Family.” Pssh. Cult was more like it. But I loved it.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.05.2019 @ 4:43 pm


Several days later, I finally saw a new prompt emerge from the void. It was a simple prompt – a singular word, in fact. At last, the burden of the drought was over, and I was ready to slake my thirst. I scrambled to my keyboard and let me fingers perform their dance. When it was over, I returned to the rankings, and there I was – still in third place.

“One day,” I told myself, “I will be the OneWord Champion.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.02.2019 @ 3:42 pm


“How many bags do you need, sweetie?”

“Oh. Uh…three, I guess?”

She handed me three reusable bags, all green, and I hoisted them into the passenger’s seat before settling into my beaten down sedan and driving to the grocery store. The sheet that my mom had given to me was pretty lengthy – she wanted at least three kinds of beans and several jars of olives. And that was just the beginning of the list.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.25.2019 @ 7:55 pm

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