I love drugs, hanging out in bars, casual sex and fucking with people’s heads. I’m a transsexual, a disaster and this is my true story.My tits are fake. My hair is fake, my eyelashes are fake, my tan is fake, my fingernails are fake. Even my name is fake. Nothing about me is real.I don’t have a real name, a real job or even a real life.I dress like a hooker, have sex in the back seats of taxi cabs and the toilets at nightclubs. My best friends include a coke whore and a prostitute.I’m not interested in anything nice. I don’t give a shit about the environment, politics, art or religion. I simply don’t care.I want people to desire me. Not like me.In 2009 my life started turning into a disaster area. I started keeping a diary as ‘therapy’ this is the result. I wanted it to be a love story. But it reads like a tragic comedy.I really need to do something other than take drugs, fuck strangers and hang out in bars. My life is falling apart.Read this and you’ll understand why.Also, if you’ve got a transsexual girlfriend or would like one, it also contains a lot of stuff about transsexuals that you need to know – which is why I’ve subtitled it ‘the transsexual users guide’. Think about it; lots of useless stuff has been written about men and women and their relationships, but there’s no transsexual equivalent.This is all from my diary. And it’s all true.