Just call me q

A woman contemplating life, incognito

Dear Twitter, I am (temporarily) leaving you…


My Dearest Darling Twitter,

It is with heavy heart and deep regret that I have to inform you… I am (temporarily) leaving you.

We seem to have been spending an inordinate amount of time together recently; so much so that everything else has gone by the wayside.

My chickens are having to collect their own eggs. (Yes, Twitter, you didn’t know that I kept hens, did you? No, well, they’re ex-batts and they’re great and I’ll tell you about them some time.)

Twitter ex-battery chickens bhwt Floppy Semi Fork Pam backyard hens justcallmeq Q queline


The cat thinks I’ve died; it’s been so long since she’s been fed.


Twitter cat justcallmeq Q queline


And my house is so disgustingly messy that it required a good ten minutes, the other morning, persuading the postman that I hadn’t been burgled (and I’m not sure he quite believed me even then).

But, dear Twitter, my dad coming round…

seeing my wet-suit hanging up in the utility room…

and saying “why is it so distorted?” is the main reason that I am (temporarily) leaving you.


Twitter big botty bottom bodyboarding justcallmeq Q queline


Yes, because I have exactly two weeks to reduce the size of my backside before I go body-boarding in Cornwall. Please wish me luck. I think I’m going to need it.

Yours truly

Q xxx

Me and my big botty



It’s no good! I can’t (A-line) skirt around the issue any longer… I have a big botty; a big, round, white, soft, squishy one.

And I know that I should embrace it because we’re in the moment’ of the bountiful booty (think Kim Kardashian, think Iggy Azalea, think Beyonce) but I can’t – partly because I don’t want to and partly because it’s behind me… so I can’t reach.

So I’ve been sat here sitting on my plump, pillowy posterior wondering… what exactly should I do about it?

Should I ignore it perhaps – pretend it’s not there?

Or should I find ways of making my mahoosive ‘mother of a mountain range’ a might less visible?

I know what I’ll do… I’ll write down some of the tricks that I’ve employed in the past, and then I’ll see if I can come up with any ways to improve upon them in the future. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Okay, so here goes:

In the past:

1) I’ve worn dark colours on my lower half.


big botty bottom justcallmeq Q queline A-line skirt


(I think that this could only be improved upon if I were able to get hold of some of that paint that NASA uses on its stealth bombers, you know, to make them invisible..?)

2) I’ve worn long length cardys/jumpers.

(Which has been fine in the winter months but utterly unbearable in summer, so there is some room for improvement with this one, I feel.)

3) I’ve refused to wear leggings.

(And I’m sorry but I will continue to give them a wide berth until someone can come up with a stretch fabric that doesn’t give me a wide berth.)

3) I’ve tried going last in queues so that no-one gets to see the back of me (which has made shopping trips a complete nightmare as you can imagine and is virtually impossible in this age of 24 hour opening that we live in).

(I could ‘get with the times,’ I suppose… shop online and have my food delivered?)

4) I have actively sought out walls to back up against so that (as above) no-one gets to see the back of me.


big botty bottom justcallmeq Q queline


(This one has only ever worked in mazes so I don’t know why I put that one.)

and finally

5) I’ve avoided any ‘high-viz’ activities such as bowling, jogging, swimming (other than back-stroke, of course), cycling, dancing, running and walking. Come to think of it, I’ve avoided any activity ending in the word ‘ing’… including living.

Oh, my goodness. I’ve just re-read that last bit and… how sad.

I can see now that I’ve let my bottom dictate my whole life. How limiting is that? I simply must learn to embrace it before it’s too late. I must, I must, and I will… right after I’ve given NASA a quick ring to see if they’ve got any of that paint going spare.


nasa big botty bottom justcallmeq Q queline


My second post: Just a quick Woo-hoo, perhaps? Ok. Maybe not…


Good morning, brave, anonymous and slightly worried me.

Did I give too much away the other night? Oh, I do hope not. I can’t have anyone knowing where my ’emergency’ biscuits are; I simply can’t. I mean, what if a real-life situation requiring instant sugar were ever to occur? How would I survive without my oat crumblies? How?

Waaahhh! Why am I even thinking about my crumblies? I should be panicking about concentrating on staying under the radar so that I can just write whatever I want to write.

But what if people recognize the big botty, horrid hair and terrible trotters combo and decide to ‘out’ me?


big botty justcallmeq Q queline

Big botty

messy hair justcallmeq Q queline

Horrid hair

terrible trotters flat feet justcallmeq Q queline

Terrible trotters

Oh, piggy poo poo’s. I can’t let my insecurities ruin it for me – I just can’t. Tomorrow, I write the first thing that comes into my head and we’ll take it from there.


My first post! Wooh-hooooo…



cake blogging queline justcallmeq Q


Ah, that’s it. The hard part’s over. Now that I have my very own space on the worldwide web – where I can anonymously jot down any little thoughts that pop into my head – I can relax. Yes, because no-one knows this is me; no-one knows that I’m here, and no-one is going to come up to me tomorrow morning and say:

1) do you really think about cellulite 15-20 times a day?

2) does your mum mind that you get all your self-help and ‘weirdy’ books delivered to her house and that the postman thinks she’s nuts?


3) why do you keep ’emergency’ biscuits in the tumble dryer and, more importantly, WHAT EXACTLY CONSTITUTES AN EMERGENCY?


justcallmeq Q queline



Ahh, this is great, this is. I can say what I like…

Oh, alright then, I will!

“I have a huge bottom.” (Boy, that feels good.)


big botty justcallmeq Q queline


“My feet are flat and I have ginormously big big toes.” (Wait a mo, will you, while I punch the air with my fist?) Done.

“I have rubbish hair, my eyes don’t work, my thighs undulate and I have a cake addiction so severe that I could probably do with a stint in rehab.”

YEAH! This is just so liberating. I don’t know why I didn’t start a blog years ago. Oh, well. Never mind. I’ve started now and that’s what counts.

Goodnight brave anonymous me. Xx