it just got worse
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I'm way out of the picture

That's my friend, hiding her face in shame.

I'm behind the camera. That's where I'm stealing my friend's identity so you might think this blog is really by some highly attractive woman who's got issues, someone we can all relate to. Kind of Bridget Jone's Diary meets Cybil.

When I was a kid I thought I'd slowly become a woman. Then puberty kicked in and ruined everything. Big nose, deep voice, hair loss. All I had to say for myself were slim shoulders and a short stature. So I did the one thing any sensible guy would do: I started dressing like a girl.

But then, to all surprise, I discovered how nice and soft women are. Then and there, at the age of 16, I decided that before I died I'd make love to at least one women from every nation on Earth.

Suffice to say, I've had very little luck with the ladies ever since.

And if you think that wearing knickers and bras made me a reconstructed metrosexual - think again.

That's it: my life in a cheap nylon wig.

 
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