My name is Abdul, and I’m here today to tell you that the media is a dangerous thing. This is not going to be another one of those “don’t smoke just because silly paintings (and yes, once more than half of a person’s body is covered in tattoos, he/she becomes a painting) like Wiz Khalifa are doing it in their music videos” lectures. I’m so over that. What we actually need to worry about are the heartfelt love-songs.
There’s something I neglected to mention in my introduction: I’m dead. As you can predict from that last sentence, I am about to tell you how I died – actually, how a song killed me.
The year I died, I was seventeen, you know, and it was all thanks to my girlfriend Laetitia. She was from the Eastern region, and she was the most romance-obsessed chick I’d ever met in my life…
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