Category Archives: Just a rant

Dear Angst Bombs

Dear Angst Bombs,

An Angst Bomb dropped last week.

On my head.

Normally I let the worries of the world wash over me, having a relentlessly cheerful “Twill all be fine” attitude.  Remaining upbeat and positive even when things are pretty shitty is actually something I pride myself on and has got me through some pretty tough times. Maybe before I just selectively ignored what was going on?

Last week I found myself utterly overwhelmed by the world.  I was filled with helpless rage and relentless worry, so much so I had to take a break from my twitter timeline (although admittedly I still tweeted and replied to @mentions) and all other forms of news as I just could not take any more.

Some of the things that worried me (and are still worrying me) about the world are-

  • Abortion rights in a world where some men claim your body can stop you from getting pregnant if its a “legitimate rape”.
  • The complete lack of understanding that a terrifying amount of people have about what consent actually is and rape or sexual assault are.
  • The debt, the cuts, unemployment, the rich getting richer the poor getting poorer. The prospect of Europe going bust.
  • The increasing inequalities in this country faced by women, children and young people, anyone non white, anyone non heterosexual for the benefit of the white heterosexual rich man.
  • The dismantling of our NHS
  • The powers that be shitting all over education and our young people.
  • Climate Change and food shortages.
  • War, famine, disease, greed, evil etc.
  • The ever increasing cost of living
  • The arseholes running our country- wiping themselves all over us and then flushing us down the pan.
  • All this that my daughters have to look forward to and grow up in. I don’t want this world for them. I want a better one.

It all came to a head when I found myself shrieking to LordCurd “and the potatoes- the poor potatoes!”, as my angst levels reached a new height when reading about how the potato blight had affected the farmers supplying our veg box due to this terrible summer.   He has been taking the piss ever since, and I realised I needed to take a break from the world (including my veg box leaflet) and not get all consumed by my rage and my panic at what is going on in the world as otherwise I will be rendered utterly incapable of doing anything about it.

I want positive change, I want things to stop feeling so futile, I want to stop feeling so angry but I also feel incredibly helpless about how to achieve any of that and worry about burn out if I don’t learn how to defuse these angst bombs so I can keep on raging and not end up with angst fatigue which renders me incapable anyway.

So if you could send the de-fusion blueprint to assist with this current situation that would be marvellous. Alternatively if we could harness the energy of my angst bombs to make green energy for all, and the resultant Nobel prize I would obviously get awarded would assist in me easily being elected to president of the world, whereupon I would immediately sort all the shit out and make it a better place for all. That would be lovely.



P.S I realise my list makes me sound a bit of a twat- I probably should have included did also worry about what I was cooking for tea, why Oddler keeps biting me, how much Peppa Pig is too much Peppa Pig, whether we have nits again, whether Omble had a form of epilepsy as she seems vacant sometimes and has virtually no fontanelle and a funny shaped skull!? Whether my tooth was going to fall out due to gum issue caused by tongue piercing, and so on and so on and many other day to day worries that comes with living a life….


Dear Ginger Haters

Dear Ginger Haters,

Bugger off from finding my blog with your stupid search terms. You are looking in the wrong place. I am a Ginger Lover and proud (Literally as LordCurd is the most handsome Ginger Man ever- he looks like a Ginger James McAvoy shall ignore the people who disagree, I love him a heck of a lot and if I was a Mills &Booner I would describe myself as his Lover (more interesting than Wife innit)).

I am also a Ginger Gene Carrier and very proud of my ability to produce Beautiful Ginger and Strawberry Blonde Babies so far…. So please don’t happen upon my blog by searching “I hate ginger babies”, because all that will invoke is my bile and vitriol towards you along with some telepathic painful incurable infectious itchy curdy discharge thoughts.

Effectively Gingerism is an “acceptable” form of racism- and it is just not on. Makes me furious, and if anyone dares be mean to my beautiful Ginger Baby– beware the Wrath of the Curd descending on your backside with incredible force.

Shall rant off with Tim Minchin singing about Prejudice.

Love LadyGingerLovingCurd

P.S Anyone else notice that apple autocorrect will capitalise White, Black and Ginger but no other colour. Interesting.

Dear The Queen

Dear The Queen,

You maybe wondering why I am using the clunky “Dear The Queen” instead of “Dear Queen” well this is to differentiate your letter from a letter to Freddie Mercury , Brian May and the “other two that no-one remembers their names”, members of one of the greatest rock bands in the world.

A rambling aside:

“You know how at weddings it maybe customary in some circles to toast the queen? At our wedding LordCurd toasted “Queen” the band. A few of the Grandmas disapproved but for the rest of our guests I’m sure “Queen” got a much more rousing cheer than “The Queen” would have done.

Oh and our girls nearly had May as a middle name but with a “Silent Brian”, so we would have had Oddler/Omble Brian May Curd, except they ended up with better middle names instead. Which is a shame but we are hoping for a boy next time- Alfred Mercury Curd will be a brilliant name, although LordCurd is also favouring Alfred Aurelius Bombastos Curd so we shall see”

Sorry Dear “The Queen” I am digressing too much- this is all material for a “Dear Queen” letter but always like to get two for the price of one.

Anyhow onto you. Did you know one of my first ever piece of published writing was about you? Our local paper used to pay £5 per published letter from precocious middle class kids with pushy parents. I cottoned onto this as a lucrative income stream and wrote many letters and had quite a few published. One letter was entitled “Why the monarchy no longer has a place in our society” – I was about 9 at the time. What was funny is that it then spewed a heap of debate on the adults letter pages with some adults angry at how my irresponsible parents had clearly warped me with their republican views (although given my brother is very pro the monarchy that can’t be true).  Other readers responding  saying “if a nine year old can see how it is- why can’t you”, Brilliant!*

21 years later, despite being of Titled Gentry myself (even if it is only of Lemon Curd), my views are still the same, I don’t think anyone would be in a position of power simply by virtue of their birth although let’s face it you you might be Head of State, but since we live in a democracy, you don’t wield all that much power thankfully.

To be quite honest I am fed up with all this Jubilee nonsense.  Obviously a 60 year anniversary of anything is rather nice. (My Grandparents were married for 65 years in the end- you sent them a card for their 50th and 60th and 65th wedding anniversaries. As they rather liked you they were very chuffed-so thanks!) but do we really have to celebrate as a nation? I mean lets face it the government is shit and stuff going on in the world is shit. All they are desperately trying to do is cheer us up a bit  to try and distract us from how shit they are and how shit it all is hence trying to make us buy into all the “jubilypmpic” fever. But really couldn’t you just have a quiet celebratory do with your family or something? I won’t be celebrating anything this weekend other than having LordCurd around for 4 days to help out with the kids is rather nice- so I suppose I will grudgingly say thankyou for that.

Anyhow thought I would also write and offer to take your place if you ever needed me too, this may surprise you given my rantings about you- however it’s because I realise I have the arm for it. You see in this weeks Private Eye- there were these pictures:


and when I was 13ish I went on a French Exchange and when I got the pictures back- Look!:

In every picture I am doing the Queen’s wave- Spooky! And given that I am not born nobility (apart from being a Lady but that is obviously an assumed title rather than hereditary so it doesn’t count) , then I totally reckon you should let me stand in for you now and again, it would show you were “one of us”, by letting one of us be one of you. Or something.

Also technically since you probably had to learn that wave whereas I clearly have a natural talent for it, then technically I have considerably  more queenlike skillz than yow, and in a QueenOffTM**  I would totally win.

In fact I reckon a QueenOffTM  is the way forward- we can stick with the whole Monarchy Bullshit only if people who have the best skills for the job become monarchs.  We could do a “Monarchy’s got TalentTM ” or “Royalty FactorTM “- that way the tourist revenue streams from having you exist would still be secured but  without any of this “by virtue of birth” nonsense.

What dya reckon?

Lots of Love (but no Curtsey)


P.S When I am inevitably awarded an OBE for my services to spending too long on the internet I will be refusing it. I assume this is why you haven’t awarded it yet.

*P.P.S I have just spent the morning routing through my memory boxes to see if I could find said letter to the local paper but sadly not, but it will be at my Mum’s somewhere- one day I will find it, scan it in and upload it here.

**P.P.P.S LordCurd knows his trademark law- I haven’t asked his legal advice yet but I am totally trademarking  QueenOffTM , Monarchy’s got TalentTM ” and “Royalty FactorTM just in case Simon Cowell thinks it is a genius idea and wants to buy the rights from me!

Dear Nadine Dorries

This letter was actually written on Sept 1st 2011 in comments on Stavvers Letter to Nadine Dorries. But now I have this very suitable blog given that it is a letters blog to host it on I am posting it here:

Dear Nadine Dorries,
I am following the lead of @Stavvers and writing to you about the contents of my uterus. I think you might be especially interested in mine. You see it has a 21 week old foetus in it and I know how much you love foetuses. Sadly if my baby was born now it would be extremely unlikely to survive no matter how much you try and pretend that extremely premature babies have a fighting chance of survival as an argument for reducing the abortion time limit- they really really don’t. In the very low chance they did survive they be beset by health problems. I really really hope my baby stays alive and kicking where it is until full term- this is a planned and very much wanted baby.

We recently had our twenty week abnormality scan- we are having a little girl- as far as they can tell from the scan she has no abnormalities. I don’t know what our decision would be if major abnormalities were found and I am thankful we were not put in that position to decide but I am also incredibly grateful that we would have been able to have the choice and up to 4 weeks to decide (or possibly longer if needs be due to the situation).

I think you might be interested in the history of my uterus. I had a miscarriage at 10weeks once. We had had a scan at 6weeks- I saw a ball of cells with a flicker, the cells stopped growing after that and 3 weeks later I lost it. That was a planned and very much wanted pregnancy, I was absolutely devastated when I lost it. Where was the counselling then to support me through that- or even the support about my decision whether or not to actually have a baby? How come only women deciding whether or not to end a pregnancy have to have counselling? Seems a bit unfair really.

I also had an ectopic pregnancy recently- I lost my fallopian tube and nearly my life. Thankfully although ectopic surgery although still technically being a termination of pregnancy they are not subject to rules around two doctors approval or getting counselling- because if I had waited I would have died. Again no counselling was offered but eventually after a lot of pestering and a waiting list I was able to get 4 sessions through my GP. Why wasn’t it automatic in this case?

Actually as it happens I am far more traumatised by my pregnancy losses and a horrible birth of an extremely ill baby than any of the many women I know who have had terminations. Where is our support and counselling or don’t we matter because our babies weren’t able to be saved? I’m not sure why you are so obsessed with saving unwanted babies- why do you want to bring more unwanted babies into the world when every day wanted babies are lost- surely a more positive valuable use of your time should be focusing your attention onto saving them?

Although I am extremely fortunate not to have been in the position of needing to look into the possibility of having a termination, I still wholeheartedly believe that it is an essential option that needs to be available for all women to choose if they need it. Counselling should be offered but not mandatory for a woman if she requests it. It is essential that that counselling is impartial- but that’s the thing- it already is- what you are trying to implement will be to offer possibly extremely biased prolife counselling and delaying treatment. If I ever do need a termination of pregnancy (and I do hope I don’t but I recognise that no method of contraception is 100% safe- or do you suggest I abstain from sex with my husband for the rest of our lives so that we don’t get put in that position?) I would want that termination done as soon as possible- within days not weeks- for me personally I like many women would want a first trimester abortion and really before 9weeks gestation. As you know the abortion procedure is much less invasive and traumatic the earlier it is done. Delaying will cause additional upset where there needn’t be.

I think me and my uterus are very worried about what you are trying to do. Soon I will have two daughters. I hope that when they grow up their rights to access abortion are stronger and not weaker than they are currently.

Yours sincerely

Me and My Uterus.

Dear Good Men Project- On Penis Size

Dear Good Men Project,

I thought I would rewrite your breast size obsessed article, from a female and penis sized perspective, just to see what happened.  To be honest it’s not an article I can see a woman ever actually writing (I’d like to think we are not that shallow, but I know some of us maybe are, so I am not making this point explicity by you know writing it as a typo), but then what would I know, I used to have big breasts and therefore a “small mind” and am only useful for “transfixing men with my obvious womanly attributes”.




P.S We really aren’t as obsessed with Penis Size as you think we all are. From my perspective it is a definitely more male preoccupation than a female one  (There is a saying about breasts “more than a handful is a waste”- well maybe “more than a mouthful is a waste” too yanoo. 😉  Just sayin’)

If the woman you’re with thinks you need a different cock, maybe you just need a different woman.

This is for the lesser-endowed men of the world: the men who were dealt too lightly by Nature, who wondered at some point or another if they should correct the injustice through the skills of a plastic surgeon, or at least invest in an arsenal of cock enhancers.

Despite the typical female well mostly male actually I reckon  preoccupation with cock size, there are some of us who wouldn’t want you any other way, who see sublime perfection where others see absence.

Maybe we’re just not as vocal as some.

We’re not the women in the swimming pool who whistle misandrically (is that even a word?!) from the poolside at you in your Speedo’s as you swim your lengths.

We’re not the ones throwing themselves at you at the party. Or your friend’s wedding, countless drinks in.

Maybe we’re the ones quietly taking you in from five tables away. Listening to your voice. Your perspective. Your sense of humor. The witty way you referenced an F. Scott Fitzgerald line in the middle of ordering your drink.

And yes, don’t worry, we snuck a good, long look at your body.

But maybe it’s not a giant cock we’re looking for.

Maybe we happen to love the sleek lines of your silhouette, the elegant simplicity of your form.

Maybe there’s something fearless and yet vulnerable about your cock that draws us.

Maybe we’re actually turned off by someone who’s used to transfixing women with his obvious, manly attributes.

Some of us grew up as athletes, amongst thin, athletic, non-massive cocked men and grew to like different physical traits than most women. Like the tight calves of a runner. Or the strong thighs of a skier. Or the muscular stomach of a volleyball player. Maybe we know that having an athletic man at your side means being more likely to live an adventurous and daring life. (Not just in the outdoors, but in the bedroom, too…)

Women like me, like the fact that you’re used to having to win people over with your mind and personality, not what was peeking through your shorts.

For me, a cocktail sausage puts you on the A-list cocktail party of the year, every time.

Some of us have learned from experience that small-cocked men often have larger minds. Or better moves in bed. Or more optimistic attitudes when the chips are down. Because you’ve been overlooked by luck before. And it didn’t get the better of you then, either.

Hell, some of us are just ass-women.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against large-cocked men. Many of them are good friends—or even exes. And yes, many have just as sharp a mind, as buoyant a spirit, or witty a retort as you.

But there’s something about your penis that I just can’t shake although technically that’s your job-I’m not into shaking post wee penises so much.

Maybe you’re just a bit lighter—at how you handle life. Maybe the thing you think you’re lacking has given you so much more. And you’re better able to move around the obstacles of life a lot quicker without it.

Whatever it is, I, for one, am under your spell. I swoon when you walk into the room. I want your first dance, your next kiss, your every smile.

You have more admirers than you know.

If the woman you’re with thinks you need a different cock, maybe you just need a different woman.

Dear Angry People

Dear Angry People,

In my job I have to deal with angry people quite a lot, if I don’t I can’t get my job done.  I usually find engaging in a dialogue with them and listening to what their specific issues are, and responding to them with evidence usually means we can come to some sort of agreement  and start to move forward in whatever it is we are discussing (not always and unfortunately in some cases I need to get higher powers involved as they are just too angry for me to deal with on my own).  It’s something I have worked really hard at, its not at all easy but I do feel it is a positive course of action and moves things forward and wins people over to my work cause.

I do appreciate anger gives people a fire in their bellies to get things done, to protest, to try to change things, but why does it also mean people need to engage in ad hominem attacks on others who maybe hold differing opinions? That doesn’t make me personally want to engage with your cause anger, that makes me want to run away and hide under my bed.  Maybe I am a wimp, but I am a wimp who would much prefer a rational discussion about each others perspectives than an angry rant about why I am wrong and you are of course right.  If you are so entrenched in your anger and your views then sadly many people feel like they cannot engage with you and then your angry message which may have real value is sadly ultimately wasted.

So please dear Angry People- try to Engage. In. A.calm and rational Dialogue. You maybe suprised at how effective it it.

Yours Sincerely

LadyWhoMostlySitsOnTheFenceUntilIAmUltimatelyConvincedOneWayOr  OtherButIKnowIAmAlwaysRightCurd 😉

P.S This was partly written in response to negative reactions to this letter but also to the charmers who regularly have a go at me about my dayjob.

Dear Biting My Tongue

Dear Biting My Tongue,

So it seems I am a bit obsessed with writing letters to tongues and tongue related things. (in fact its my probably my second favourite body part to talk about after nipples). I suspect this makes me some kind of pervert. But nevermind.

Today I need to write to you to complain about this biting issue we have going on. Normally my tongue works fine, I hold it in my head and it is mostly civil, but lately my tolerance for such civility is being tested. I suspect the extreme sleep deprivation means my outwardly nice veneer is starting to slip to expose my hellbitch innards

My tongue has teethmarks and they are starting to hurt. I could vent forth with a tongue lashing to seriously beat down the issues (there are several unconnected ones I am biting down about) until they cower before me, suitably apologetic and chastened, but I suspect that is most probably a very unwise course of action. Plus I have an awesome new professional role where practising biting my tongue is going to come in useful. Sigh. I’d much rather practice the Tongue Lashings (that sounds seven kinds of fun), but for now I shall rise above it all after all you will always be a ***** (insert suitable term) and I am the better nicer person.

Passively Agressively Yours