Melissa Carter My Story

         Born Newark, NJ.

         Note: my name was legally changed to Melissa Carter on September 19, 2008.
                    I am also legally a female now.

1969 New York Mets win World Series. Man walks on moon. Woodstock.

1974 Watch Soul Train for first time. Comes on after Schoolhouse Rocks.

1977 Sexually molested by babysitter repeatedly.

1980 See Picasso restrospective at the Museum of Modern Art. Tony Shafrazi slashes Picasso's Guernica and is arrested on the day I visit Museum (earlier that day I saw Shafrazi outside the Museum holding a sign that said, "Picasso is a Lie"). I thought he was a nut. Later, he would start an incredibly succesful gallery and market Keith Haring to the world. Can't believe they elect Reagan.

1984 Drawing and making films in between bong hits. In high school, I'm one of the "stoners" and a total outcast. Can't believe they re-elect Reagan.

1986 Go to Art School in New York City. In between bong hits. Watch Reagan lie to the public daily. All I think about is sex and art.

1987 Give it up for the first time. I'm very uncomfortable with male attention and live predominantly as a heterosexual male. The beginning of lifelong sexual confusion. I feel cursed to be drawn to both sexes (later I'll find out about the third sex).

In February, Andy Warhol dies due to staff negligence at NYU Medical Center. He was 58 years old. I had seen him 3 months prior at Gagosian Gallery. He exhibited his "Oxidation Paintings"; huge chemically-treated canvases designed to oxidize rapidly when mixed with acidic liquids like urine. Warhol's assistants spent the day drinking beer and pissing on canvas. They were quite beautiful. At the opening was Jean Michael Basquiat, who would die the following year from a heroin overdose.

1988-1989 My life is painting and nothing else. I set up a studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Wake up around one in the afternoon, drink coffee and smoke cigarettes, then paint till 3 a.m. I always make it to the bar before 4 a.m. last call. Tone Loc played repeatedly. Can't believe they vote for Bush.

1990 Move to Greenwich Village in Manhattan. Car towed 9 times. Can't stop playing with myself. Public Enemy and EPMD rock. Smoke crack for first time. Throughout college and afterwards I nurture an ongoing substance abuse problem, switching from drugs to booze and then back to drugs.

1992 Nirvana releases Smells Like Teen Spirit. Fall in love, or my idea of love. Fall out of love.
I'm not sure if it was ever love at all, or I was in love with the idea of being in love. It's so incredibly lonely every night in my studio. I stop painting. I can't decide what to do. I try my hand at stand-up comedy. For the next two years I live on rice in between low-paying gigs. My best joke: "Wrote a self-help book for guys, its called "women who love too much and their phone numbers."

1994 Face harsh reality I need a steady paycheck. Start running 3-4 times a week. Running eventually becomes a central part of my life. Move to NJ. Get a job. Can't get over how much carpeting people live with.

1995 See Cypress Hill, Beck, Sonic Youth and Hole at Lallapalooza. Can't get over how repulsive Courtney Love is. Life is so much better since I stopped painting or telling unfunny jokes.

1996 Fall in (my idea of) love. We go to sex clubs a lot. I'm mesmerized by this woman and drink up every gesture, every mannerism, every feature. I look back now and see there were three important women who greatly impacted my female personna. She is one of them. Curiously, at this time I have no desire to be female, no desire to even wear stockings. It lay dormant through my twenties.

1998 Shocked that after all my hopes and dreams, I'm just another commuter on the road, just another consumer at the store. I hit bottom when I purchase an SUV.

2000 Watch Al Gore win election and Bush take office. No longer surprised at how pathetically stupid we are.

2001 Can't stand my girlfriend...we split. More importantly, she can't stand me. And who can
blame her. I was an emotional trainwreck. She takes my Smashing Pumpkins and Jamiroquai CDs. I learn to live with that. As the towers collapse so too does my world.

2002 Completely lost in suburbia, there is almost no hope left. Most of the year I'm unemployed. My values in life are up for grabs. There is no new girl in my life, no one to get lost in. I'm faced with countless hours alone asking questions. I recall buying a hemp anklet that summer, thinking, "this will go to my next girlfriend, whomever she may be." I never gave that anklet to anyone. I wear it on occasion. Begin taking pictures of myself.

2003 Take a great job at a great company. Running all the time. Then it hits me. I'm drawn to this female part of myself. Am I gay? Bi? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not quite sure what to do with these feelings. I begin showing off on webcam. Why do I get such a thrill from this? I'm embarrased. Almost ashamed. I won't show my face. I ditch the SUV. I dress completely as a girl for the first time. I stare in the mirror and am repulsed. I look like a dude with a wig. I am a dude with a wig. It must be an all-time low...or is it?

2004 My life is split in that proverbial way of the crossdresser. I'm single so don't have to hide/conceal like many married crossdressers. Still, I'm hiding it from everyone; my family, my friends, my co-workers. My girl clothes are perfectly packed away in the closet, easy to take out and easy to put away. I go out dressed for the first time. A 7-11 clerk calls me "sweetie". I'm shocked. I am a crossdresser at this point, nothing more. But I'm already exploring feelings of being a girl. Its more than just clothes. Or makeup. It's like a part of me awoke from a lifelong coma. I'm terrified in public. I'm learning lessons the only way a tranny can- the hard way. I start dating. Still won't show my face on the net. I blur out my face and post a few pictures. I have the lowest self-image and have a hard time accepting compliments. I go out as a female about a dozen times this year.

In October I suddenly lose all hearing in my right ear. I blew my nose, that was it. Apparently ruptured some small membrane in the inner ear. Equilibrium's affected and I lose my balance often. I see a specialist who tells me the hearing loss is permanent. I'm devastated. I give up on everything including my feminine aspirations. This loss would have a profound effect and become the catalyst for my final decision to live as a woman. I close the year out feeling like nothing.

2005 Between the cold winter and my hearing loss, I'm happy to get through a day's work and smoke pot. And then eat myself to sleep. I'm upset about my loss and not ready to move on. After four months I'm adjusting. My brain compensates and I'm able to talk with people and hear almost everything. I'm lost and can't figure out what to do. I haven't gone out as a girl in six months. I gained twenty pounds over the winter. I am lost and in desperate need of re-invention. I need to do something. I make a decision to fully explore my fem side. The way I saw it at the time (I remember this vividly) was "this is as good as anything else." I know that sounds shallow and almost careless but that was my final thought prior to committing fully.

The winter was hard. Can't handle the cold. It cuts right through me. And gets dark early. After my winter depression I kick into gear and start running. Running is the foundation for everything. My body feels so good when I run. It's the reason I fit in a size 6 skirt. For the first time, I show my face online. It's a big deal for me. In my own way, I'm coming out. My sexual interests are all over the map. I'm utterly confused. It dawns on me I could remain confused. I begin to languish in this sexual confusion and almost strive not to find clarity. It's a lonely year. I spend most of my time alone trying to find my path. I live out a fantasy: on a hot August night I walk the West Side Highway with the tranny ho's. I'm still nervous as hell in public. But I'm developing a look and a style. I'm finding my walk, my voice, etc...

2006 The winter is so bitterly cold. I buy cold weather running gear and run on the path. In the dark. It's the only connection with my female self. I don't go out as a girl all winter. Another self-imposed exile. But I'm working on myself. Skin care. Moisturizing. Yoga. And Hormone Replacement Therapy. It's the final step in my transition-decision. The dosage is carefully increased. The effects are wonderful and almost immediate. My skin gets soft. My hair softens. My female form is emphasized. I begin the year at 153 lbs. I'm currently 138 lbs. My hips are wider, my waist smaller. My breasts are budding. My weight is redistributing. It's been a break-out year. My changes become noticeable. I'm going out more than ever, a few times a week. I'm enjoying the attention. Going on dates.

In March I meet a man who eventually becomes important in my life. To this day, he still holds a huge place even though we no longer speak. This man single-handedly helped me to see myself as a woman, not a tranny. He brought great clarity and insight to my world, which at this time was still fraught with confusion. He would go on to become my lover, my best friend and confidant. We were together for the better part of two years. I destroyed our relationship due to my drug problem. He is a source of great sadness and regret. It is a loss I will have to live with and hopefully learn from. That's what addiction does to those you love.

My female side takes over. I'm no longer a crossdresser. I'm a transsexual, or something else but not a CD. No longer feel my life is split. It's all blending. The gender line is a blur. All I have left in my drawer is girl's underwear. I've learned the technical stuff, i.e., make-up, skin care. I can be ready in a half hour, which is a miracle. Most important, this year has been about going out and feeling comfortable. Crossing the line from tgirl to mainstream. I used to love the tgirl scene but it's limited. I need to know I can go anywhere. I see a transitioning doctor. She oversees my hormone therapy and other transitioning matters. She is a TS herself. That really speeds things along.

On the horizon: Getting as close to full time as I can, laser hair removal, tattoo on right arm and lower back, growing my hair, maybe botox or cosmetic surgery. My path is clear.

December 2006 I did end up getting that tattoo. And the laser hair removal. And the Botox. And letting my hair grow. I stuck to the plan like glue. Went through hell to get there. In July my landlady tells me I have to leave. I pay my rent on time. I don't make noise. I know my "lifestyle" is the reason but she insists on other reasons intertwined with her repeated apologies. I find a small house on a busy highway to rent. Finally, my own place. Even if it is twenty feet from the fast lane. In September during a chest x-ray, a lump is revealed in my right breast. I go for a mammogram. They believe its a benign cystic growth, very common in females, but needs to be monitored every six months. In October I leave my job of three years. I was fired. I need a change anyway. And feel compelled to try living as a woman.

I spend the last three months of 2006 living full time. There's no work so theres no reason to go out as anything but female. Money gets tight. No savings. I start doing webcam shows for $1 per minute. I begin posting my photos on internet pay sites. Then I'm propositioned online. This guy offers $400 to "spend a little time together". The idea is appealing. Fast money. All cash. The remainder of the year is spent hooking. I need the money and there are guys willing to pay. Its a degenerative job. Having sex with someone you don't want is spiritually difficult. I'm putting food on the table. And paying bills with money orders. I'm close to calamity. This is unfortunately all too common a story in the trans world. Admirers will pay for your time, and if you don't want to work a day job as a female, its often your only option. I got caught up in it. But not for long. Participate in The Transgendered Project in NYC; they test me for STD's. I'm clean.

I'm offered a job. A really great job. Due to begin 2007. The position came through a recruiter who found me. Perhaps Someone's looking out for me. I ditch the whore life immediately. Around Christmas I develop a relationship with a man I've been dating. I'm enamored with this guy. He's brilliant and attractive. He treats me well. Takes me to fine restaurants. Makes love to me. I'm developing feelings. I'm possesive. I only want to be with him.

The year ends well. I'm newly employed, in love with my boyfriend, 138 lbs. and disease-free.

2007 The new year starts as Regional Manager. Work consumes me. I am driven and commit 60-hour weeks. I break my foot February 5th, slipping on the bathroom floor. I'm fragile, weigh less, bruise and break easier. I need to be more careful. I'm going stir crazy cause I can't run. I'm trying desperately to manage things. And succeeeding. I love my man and we see each other as often as possible.

In April my foot healed and I started running again. That's been critical to my happiness.

I'm almost a B-cup. My weight is redistributing nicely. My fem voice is finally in the zone. As a female I pass all the time. I can say that confidently. I feel good about who I am and where I'm headed. Life's been challenging but rewarding. Its hard to find the right balance between work and life. Beyond work, my transitioning efforts and boyfriend fill my days. And my friends. My art. Writing. Running. Yoga. That's one full plate. But thankfully it is a plate of good things.

UPDATE: October 2007

My transition continues. I've switched to hormone injections. I inject once a week. My breasts are small B-cups now. My identity as Melissa is well known to all. I am still with the same company as a regional property manager. The company has accepted my transgender status and it seems okay.

I was transferred to the Delaware region in September. I pack a bag on Monday and stay in Wilmington till Friday night. It's almost funny how the more I try to get back to New York the further away I land. But this is my world now. I see a future that inculdes my professional career, my art, writing and a full life as Melissa. I spend my money on cosmetic changes such as electrolysis, intense pulsed light treatments and injectable facial enhancements. I have completed six laser treatments and over forty hours of electrolysis. I am saving for facial feminization surgery. Many say it's not necessary but I still want the nose job, brow lift and chin re-shaping.

My family barely talks to me. They are not happy with my decision. Their silence tells the story. My boyfriend is still my greatest ally. I'm very much committed to him and our relationship. It's been ten months. Autumn is here and it brings those incredible feelings that come with a change in seasons. I seem to be drawn to vampiristic notions and themes. In some ways I feel like a vampire in that I change from one thing to another. I am extremely emotional and cry at the glimpse of an old photo, or the thought of a person once in my life now gone.

February 2008   November 27, 2007 I crashed my car and injured myself pretty bad. My head went into the windshield and needed seventeen stitches. Luckily the scar is on my scalp covered by hair. My life changed that day. I spent a week recuperating and returned to work. I was fired two days later. I had this job for almost a year, with good success the first nine months. The last three I was an ineffectual property manager. What happened is I shared my "stage" name with a co-worker who downloaded explicit internet images and presented them to corporate. I was reprimanded and transferred to Delaware where I failed. In December my boyfriend and I took our first trip together . We flew to Pittsburgh for a long weekend and visited the Andy Warhol Museum.

On January 23 I had a rhinoplasty (nosejob) operation. I've been recovering the past month. I swallowed prescription pain killers like they were M & M's. With a few glasses of wine that made everything good. Then the meds ran out. Now the money's run out. I'm flat broke. Lost my health insurance. Gained almost ten pounds. Haven't run in two months. Quit smoking. Started smoking. I have a pile of unopened mail on my kitchen counter dating back to December. Stuff is about to get shut off. I sometimes don't leave my house for days. I spend a lot of time in bed. I do nothing all day. And I'm exhausted from it. Something happened and I don't know what. Something changed.

UPDATE: September 2008

In late Febraury, broke and depressed, I couldn't bear the thought of looking for yet another real estate job, which I was sure to be fired from. I had briefly dabbled in the escort scene. I decided to give it another whirl but this time I approached it with a professional attitude. It was most likely the destitute nature of my existence that spurred my drive. I created a number of nicely-designed advertisements and built a website for the sole purpose of attracting clients. I spent the last of my money posting advertisements on some of the better-known escort sites. The phone rang off the hook.

In no time I was back on my feet and not only paying bills, but paying down some of the huge credit card debt incurred throughout my transition. Business was good, I answered to no one and was the architect of my day. I felt so empowered after being kicked around from job to job all these years. My depression quickly lifted and I began running and taking care of myself again. Throughout the spring my relationship was deteriorating. In addition, there were some family issues involving my new occupation due to the nosy efforts of certain family members. That only helped to further distance me from my family, which was already a long-distance affair. The situation remains this way with no signs of improvement.

By May things had fallen apart between my boyfriend and I and we called it quits. At the same time I was meeting many clients and being exposed to a darker side of life, which included drugs. I quickly became hooked on freebase cocaine and all but ruined my life in a few short months. By late June I was crying for help and started going to support groups. My boyfriend and I attempted to salvage things but I was too far gone. I had thrown away whatever hope remained.

Lost in addiction, and having the money to finance it, I had become an out of control addict of the highest order. This seemed to go well with my lifestyle, or so I thought, and by July my life was nothing more than that of a crack whore. I shacked up in Atlantic City, D.C. and New York, taking appointments to fund my drug habit, running out of money and then crashing. I would take downers to knock me out so I didn't have to crash awake. I hated what I was doing. I would very quickly come to my end this way and I knew it.

Desperate for another chance, and scared to death I would go down the toilet like all the other whores, I finally gave up and suurrendered. It seemed so tragic and senseless that I would throw away my talents for this drug. I was smarter than that. I am learning now that intelligence has nothing to do with the disease of addiciton. But it makes sense if you think about it: I answered to no one, made plenty of cash, already had a long history of substance abuse, and was surrounding myself with clients who liked to party. These are the ingredients of tragedy.

With the help of fellowships like NA and AA I began to get clean and stay clean. I met a man in the fellowship who is my new boyfriend. We have become very close very fast. I love him and he feels the same. We are still getting comfortable with each other but I honestly trust this man completely. We are considering the possibility of opening a contemporary art gallery in the future. That, for me, would be a dream come true.

I am 100% clean now for a month and a half, which although it does not sound like much, is a big step for someone who couldn't last a week. I go to NA meetings almost every day in addition to voluntary participation in an outpatient recovery program. I get on my knees each morning and thank God for bringing me back to my senses.

On September 19th I legally became Melissa and legally a female by order of the Superior Court of the State of New Jersey. I am in the process of having my credit cards, identification and passport changed to reflect my new name and gender. This was a big step for me. I cannot tell you how happy I feel to finally be Melissa on paper. That may not seem like much but it is; ask anyone who has gone through it. To intensify my happiness, being able to go through this legal name change so soon after my addiction problems, is a blessing I cannot quite describe. There really is a God after all.

More big plans on the horizon: November 24th I am having breast implant surgery. 270-cc silicone implants will be inserted under the pectoral muscles, resulting in what will most likely be C-cup boobs. They will not be super-huge and this was discussed with my surgeon. Key for me is that implants would:

a) enhance what I already have, and

b) be proprtionate to my relatively slim figure (not wanting to look top-heavy)

c) maintain a natural look, not the double-globes we see so often.

I waited a number of years so that there was ample breast tissue formed. The idea is that there will be plenty of natural tissue covering the implants to maintain a natural look. Hopefully the implants will give more size to the upper region, where hormones develope little to no breast tissue and of course, result in more cleavage. In addition to the implants there will also be some minor feminization surgery to my face, namely a lip lift.

I close this update on a happy note, but just by the skin of my ass. I consider my misadventure with drugs a disguised blessing. It has helped me to remember what I hold most dear, and it instills upon me a spiritual journey I most likely would not have taken. It is the basic things now that matter. Life is best when life is simple. I feel very fortunate to be me. To have the people I cherish in my world. But I have also lost people and for that I am saddened. There may come a day when I can look those who I've hurt in the eyes and express my remorse.

UPDATE: November 22, 2008

In two days I'll have breast implant surgery. In addition to the implants the doctor will perform minor plastic surgery to my face, a lip lift, which is removing a small sliver of skin under my nose and pulling up my top lip a smidgen. As with all procedures, my doctor has my complete confidence and understands natural is the key. That is, it should not even occur to people that I've had work done.

Am I excited? Totally. I worked so hard to make this possible. This has been very carefully planned out; the date was set six months ago, I've been slowly paying my surgeon a thou here a thou there, the forms have been fitted and the cc-size changed twice (I eventually decided on 275-cc medium profile rounds), and pretty much everything I can think of was addressed including recovery time. I should be a solid C-cup when all is settled.

Tonight my boyfriend and I are going to see Madonna in Atlantic City. That of course, is another dream come true. Madonna has and continues to be a total hero and inspiration. I would think any transsexual must appreciate her ability to reinvent herself. After all, isn't that what we do?

On Monday I will be at the hospital at 8:30 a.m. Surgery is scheduled for 10:30. After surgery I will spend the week resting and recooperating at a beautiful old mansion on a barrier reef island along the New Jersey shore. I can think of no better way to recover than to look out my window and see the ocean. Lucky me.

It's funny it seems like I go through these life-changing moments each November. It was 2004 when I suddenly and without warning lost my hearing in my right ear, and with that my hopes and dreams. I suffered terribly the next six months, melancholy, thinking my life was over. But I came back damnit. Then the following year, tailspinning into a horrible depression and hanging up my girl clothes. Then the following year, fired without a clue, fearing homelessness or worse and looking into a very uncertain and scary future. But I hung in there. And last November, crashing my car and smashing my head into the windshiled. A few days and seventeen stitches later I was fired yet again. And there I was in the"my-life's-changing-and-I-can't-do-a-damn-thing-about-it" hotseat. And now here we are again, it's November so therefore my life must be changing. A few cup sizes, a week to reflect at the beach (in the cold when there's no one else around, I love that) and who knows what else is coming. We will see. All I can do is brace myself, hope for the best and prepare for the unexpected, however you do that.

It's been a great year full of pitfalls and setbacks but you know what? I'm coming out on top yet again. I'm 100 days clean and sober, almost two months of no smoking. Drugs and booze are a world I don't want to know about anymore. I have no interest in escape. Why escape? I have too much to do. As I recover there are a number of projects to undertake: first I want to re-design my websites, both personal and business. I also want to start a paysite, XXX of course, and have already begun that process. That will entail a constant flow of new content but with my new boobs I don't see a problem. And I very much want to start painting again and writing my book.

I want to start running as soon as I can. Due to my drug recovery I didn't run that much this year, maybe fifty times in all. That's nothing for me. Based on what I've read regarding the healing process I probably won't be running till after the new year. I want to seriously work my diet and skin care program. After surgery I'm interested in a laser resurfacing of my face to help correct some damage done by an idiot electrologist who burned my skin last year. I may need to wait on that procedure a bit. It will also require hospitalization.

I probably will not be "working" again this year. Recovery and healing will be the main focus. Money will just have to wait. I have big plans for 2009. Lots of traveling. I've already set my 2009 winter and spring schedule. I plan to be in Florida and Los Angeles in January and February. And also a midwest tour encompassing Chicago, Cincinatti, St. Louis, Kansas City and Denver. I've really honed the craft of touring since getting clean. I research each town along the way and find the best running spots, the nicest parks, the best restaurants and art museums. There is nothing like living life now, getting my kicks on the real stuff not the fake stuff.

As for my bras, they will be useless and I'm giving them away. If any of you are interested in a collection of 34-B & 36-B cup bras, mostly black, mostly padded, some gel most Victoria's some Maidenform a few lacey a few satin but a nice collection all in all, please email me privately.

Life has become very much the life I always wanted. It's the little things that matter now- a cup of coffee on the picnic bench, a run in the park, enjoying the countryside, closing my eyes and feeling glad for simply being alive. While my ambitions run high, I never want to forget this simple but hard-earned lesson: We will choke on our ambitions lest we forget the simple things.

Thanksgiving is coming. I have a lot to be thankful for. Thanks to all my suporters and clients who met me or said kind things. Thanks to my friends and family who loved me unconditionally. Thanks to my fellow recovering addicts who helped me to see the light. And thanks to all of you for not being a douchebag. I wish you all a wonderful holiday to you and your family.

UPDATE: July 2009

So much has happened, so many changes. My breast implant surgery was succesful and if I may say they are beautiful. The laser resurfacing of my face went well and my face is smoother than ever. Not without complications, however. I suffered damage to both my corneas and my eyes are still healing. A full recovery is expected. Boyfriends come, boyfriends go. If I've learned one thing in this life it is that I am alone. ALONE. And I feel good about it. I continue to tour the states on my 2009 "Dressed to Arrest" tour. I just returned from my midwest leg of the tour visiting Chicago, Michigan and Ohio. It was an 11-day run and a complete success. I'm taking a few days off at home and making plans to visit New York City next week followed by a 14-day tour of California including Los Angleles and San Francisco. My fall schedule will be released in early August.

The life of an escort is full of pitfalls and I must constantly be on guard for trouble. Thanks to God I've come out on top so far. I have only my wits to protect me. These are the things most important to me right now: my sobriety, my health and my art. While I sometimes struggle to maintain a drug-free life I have been succesful with only a few slips. I finally realize that by loving myself and believing in a power greater than myself I can stay away from the garbage that took me down in the past.

Surprisingly I don't have a lot to say at this time. I am living the life I wanted for so long, being the person I wanted to be. The change was hard, harder than I ever imagined it would be but it is over now. As long as I stick to my gameplan I see a great future. The sex industry will not last forever and I'm working on a number of projects right now: a book about my life, some short videos that seem to be more about art and less about porn, and of course my rightful place as a painter. I will be traveling a lot this summer so check out my schedule at www.meetmelissacarter.net I may be coming to a city near you.

UPDATE: February 2010

I consider survival an earned privilege these days. I guess the economy is affecting all of us. Regardless of recession, I have learned one thing. I created a business that can sustain itself even through difficult times. If I am willing to work there is always money there. I traveled extensively in 2009 and then spent the holidays at home. The winter blues really hit me hard this year. So, for the past couple months I've been staying warm in my house, watching movies and occasionally making one. I plan on traveling starting end of February. I call it my 2010 Spring Training Tour. Pitchers and Catchers report. I'll be spending time in Connecticut, Baltimore and Virginia.

I wish I had something profound to say after all I've been through. I sit here with nothing to offer but a dumb stare. OK I'll leave you with this. It has an air of all-knowing metaphysicality:

Unthinking the Rethinkable

Think about that. No better yet, unthink it.

UPDATE: January 2012

One would think with two years to compile my thoughts I could come up with a succint and deeply profound update. Well, I have, kind of: I know nothing. You all out there, you know the answers. Everyone is so fucking right these days its refreshing and liberating to be wrong. Yes, tell me the answers please, because I'm too busy asking the questions. No one seems to care about questions anymore. Just me and all the dead guys. So feed me your answers, tell me the right way to run this country, what's wrong with the world, who the True God is, which party is the right one. Me? I'm stupid, and happy to be so. I'll be over here with the dead guys...

Melissa Carter