My Cardboard Balcony

Sky Fingers by Belinda Roddie When I wore the blue cape, I controlled the stars.

Pneumonia Of The Brain by Belinda Roddie Lady Valerie Louis had simply vanished in the night. She had claimed her husband had pneumonia of the brain, but he was as spry as ever, and the usual lush. By the time a search party was created, she had been found outside Camden Villa, screaming about memory erasure. Poor fool. This week's prompt was provided by Patrick Braue.

Three Piece by Belinda Roddie Someone please tailor me a fancy suit with a skirt!

Damn. So. Yeah, we got a house! Arden and I will be in the process of moving over the next couple of weeks, so I'll be pretty swamped. Meanwhile, I'ma be listening to Christmas music and drinking a lot of hot cocoa. It's 2020, people. I gotta indulge in the holidays, lest I go utterly mad. Also, chocolate custard pie is, and remains, the breakfast of champions. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Storytime With Patrick by Belinda Roddie Watch me do my best drunk white girl impression: Drinking Bailey's from a brown paper bag, grinding on a university crush in red lipped rage, losing her fishnets simultaneously with her mind. Pay no attention to the stale aroma in the hallway, and always question just what is up with compulsive lying bitches named Mallory.

Boop by Belinda Roddie Why boop a nose when you can boop someone's head?

This Year by Belinda Roddie This year, before Thanksgiving, we endured bushfires in Australia, and then we all feared a potential nuclear war. Impeachment shortly followed, and just when we thought it all would stabilize, the plague arrived on our doorstep. Kobe Bryant died before that, causing heartbreak and ague, but at least Harvey Weinstein got a chance to sit in prison. Protests erupted across the country because, once again, cops just can't seem to resist adding dead bodies, mostly Black ones, almost all men, onto the ever growing numbers. Let's enjoy this food - don't mention the hornets!