PART 1: The Start of The Job
 
Look, this was my personal diary. About my life to be a great rapper For sure, yes. My name is Stan Duke, I’m a fan of many great rappers, Iggy Azelea, George Watasky, Slim Shady, Juicy j… you name it. I want to be like them, but it was a struggle. Everything I had experienced in my life to be a rapper was only the most I could know. If you read my diary, do not make fun of me. I’m warning you. You don’t want to experience the things I had done. Just to make sure it was worth it.
Now, I’ll begin my story…
 
(Warning: HIGHLY unpleasant language can be found throughout the book.)
 
 
I was born in Mississippi. I was twenty-one by that time. Well, yes, my life here wasn’t any fun. We lived in a small cottage, a very old, dusty, rotten wooden cottage. I had just gone out of the army, while being a lowly farmer with my parents-well, DIVORCED parents. I live with my dad, Josh Duke, who tried hard not to get drunk. But in any way, he looked just like a big-ass slob. He has a pot bellied frame, an unshaved mouth and with a broken white sweater and old jeans he usually wears, which he looks like a seventy-year old been a massive slob all his life. He was many years younger than that, and he is a good dad. He worked with me as a farmer, well, almost every day, and we didn’t get enough money since rarely customers would come and buy some of our own grain. Well, it’s been nearly a year of doing this and my dad only had 450＄ for his profit. I always saved my god dam money in my tiny piggy bank, well, a single penny.