the great adventures of a fallen star part i

I have come 2 a conclusion. A simple conclusion, one that needed much thought. But I realized my life maybe more exciting then the average superhero. And even though I possess neither superhuman power nor strength (we'll leave my charm out of this) I have somehow managed make an arch nemesis. My sworn enemy, like me has no power, but in fact is a brainless buffoon. He has been desenizted by american pop culture, and for some reason he believes he is the reincarnated version of 2pac. It’s rather cute, actually. But, I do worry about him sometimes. But I do think that his main power maybe the fact that I have no idea what the hell he is thinking. Sometimes people do things for a reason but this guy has me baffled. It's like when you see someone doing something, and you have no idea why they do it. Bananas. The electo-magnetic stereo waves received from hardcore gangsta rap music have descrambled his brain. Poor guy. He is not like the normal 2pac impersonators, he in fact really lives life as a thug. Weird, especially since he was raised in the suburbs in montgomery county. 1 of the richest county's in the east coast. He has mastery in the skill of ebonics, where he performs at a high linguist level. Word up.

But, he is not my only problem. I have a sidekick. At times he can b my best friend but most times he is like my enemy. And even though he is my cousin we have very few similarities. I’m cute, he looks like a gremlin. At times I maybe funny, he is funny looking. I dress nice, he wears a dress. He is very stubborn and most time does not like 2 use his brain. He believes real thought comes from protein bars and health shakes. So basically I use him 4 his muscle and I do all the thinking. I am probably the only person 2 know that he is really not a homosexual, but is just really affectionate 2 the same sex.

I also have an advisor, he is salafi. He tells me 2 cut my hair and wear clothes that fit me. He also tells me that it ain't cool to have your pants hanging off your butt. He also has a super power. He has knowledge of stuff. Not ordinary stuff. But stuff about stuff. Sometimes it is deep philosophical stuff or stuff that relates 2 stuff u never thought about. So deep that you say “wow, that’s some deep stuff.” Sometimes I don’t understand his stuff. It’s like he is on another level thinking, not even Socrates could comprehend. His stuff would confuse some of the greatest thinkers of our time. He personally has me puzzled or befuddled. Whatever. He gives me a headache. Because of his stuff he has the power 2 give headaches at will. That is sum powerful stuff.

Now, I’m not your typical protagonist, especially in western sense. I have no steady income, I’m skinny, arrogant and I’m pakistani. meow. Did u hear a cat? Anyways, where was I? Plus, I’m also a victim of mtv propaganda and have been brainwashed to a point where I have become a mindless zombie. That is until now, television has soaked so much in2 my brain that it no longer affects me. I no longer believe anything on TV, or any other media. Now, that I think about it I don’t believe in a lot of things. I’m lazy; I have no idea why I even started typing this story. I don’t own a pair of sneakers and I don’t floss. I have high mastery in the art of cards and vast knowledge of hip hop. Basically, lb fam. Also I have a skill that somehow every month I go over my cell phone bill. Amazing, is it not. Especially since I have free incoming. And what I truly do not grasp in life is...stuff. And, now our adventure begins.