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12-17-10

To Whom It May Concern,

Whoever it was that pounded on my window Saturday night is very lucky that I was
not in my room at the time. A loaded twenty gauge shotgun sits next to my bed so my first
instinct would have been to pick it up, take careful aim, and shoot through the window. A
twenty gauge hollow point slug will utterly destroy not only the glass but also the human
standing on the other side of the window. When my ears stopped ringing from the loud
blast of the shotgun, I doubt I would feel any pity as the wailing from outside became
audible. The rotten villain would be crumbled on the ground, underneath the beautiful
Japanese maple tree. Blood would be everywhere, seeping into the front walk and staining it
forever in the memory of dumb cokeheads. After reloading my gun and throwing on a pair
of pants, I would step out the front door with a machete in my left hand and the loaded
shotgun with the hammer cocked back in my right. Accompanied by Maxwell, the brown
Chesapeake, I would laugh at the idiot who thought he could penetrate Kazinsky’s formidable
defenses and allow my wonderfully obedient dog to piss in the criminal’s face. If the rotten
drug fiend was still alive, the blood and urine mixture would surely drown him and from what
I understand, this is not a pleasant way to die.

I know who it was that pounded on my window late Saturday night and I know that
drugs were the cause of his bravery. He refuses to be a man, which is not surprising since I
have heard rumors from different girls that his father castrated him in a bizarre sex ritual as a
young child. I doubt this is true but his father is also an alcoholic, cocaine fiend and I am
sure ---- ------* was abused as a child. Hell, he admitted as much to me, during long hours
of cocaine abuse. I have also heard from a woman named after the Sun that the only way ---
- ------* could maintain a erection was by beating her viciously with a leather strap. She told
me, confidentially, that this was never a problem until he started ingesting cocaine on serious
level and after that the sex was never the same. This is not surprising to me now, and though
it was not noticeable then, ---- ------* is a pussy and I am ashamed to have ever called him a
friend. Any man who talks behind another man’s back and then pretends to be friendly with
said man for whatever reason is a complete piece of shit; a jerk chicken ass bitch in my book.
He should be crucified to a cross and paraded around Stockton, while righteous citizens lash
him with a bastinado made out of hemp. Besides being a drug addicted scum bag, ---- -----
-* is also a greedy bastard, who charges his friends incredibly inflated rates for bags of
marijuana. He could afford to give his friends a better break since he grows it all himself but
of course there are many stories of why he cannot do so because he is the worst kind of scum
sucker: A Coked Up Bull Shitter.

He will not fight me. He refuses to do so, although I have made plenty of offers to
meet him wherever he wants. He is afraid of me, for reasons I do not understand. I do have
to admit that he has cause to be worried, since my anger burns like an uncontrollable wild

*The name of this asshole has been deleted at the insistence of Kazinsky’s lawyers.
fire whenever nonsensical craziness affects my mother. This is why he gets other people
involved in a situation that has nothing to do with them. First, he had the Muslim call me.
This moron threatens to kill me the day the Giants won the playoff’s to go to the World
Series. I didn’t even pick up the phone; I handed it to my friend who also knows ---- ------*
and when he answered, screaming ensued and the conversation degenerated into cursed
ramblings. Afterward, my friend handed my phone back to me and with a serious look on
his face, told me that ---- ------* was planning on having me killed. The idea is so terribly
asinine that I laughed out loud and could not stop chuckling about it for a full five minutes.
I am not scared of ---- ------*, never have been because he cannot fight worth a shit and
even with weapons, he is usually too fucked up to do any damage. What made me stop
laughing were the threats made to my friend, which was a mistake because my friend’s family
is not to be taken lightly. I have met more than one murderer that hailed from that large
Mexican family and ---- ------* knew it as well because he showed up at my house that
night to apologize. I saw the fear in his eyes when I opened my front door and asked him if
he was there to kill me. I was more than ready to play; with the shotgun locked and loaded
with extra shells in all of my pockets, I looked like I was ready for some serious mutilation
and/or killing. I wasn’t going to shoot him, though. There would have been too much of
mess and while he had threatened to kill me, he used to be a friend. I knew it was the drugs
talking. On the other hand, ---- ------* did not know this and neither did my mother, who
really believed I might shoot him dead.

Two weeks to the day of my life being threatened, the Muslim guy dies under very
suspicious circumstances. I received several calls and then I texted ---- ------* so that he
could confirm the death. Which he did, and I replied back that it was kind of ironic that the
Muslim guy had died two weeks after threatening to kill me and that Karma really was a
bitch. I admit this was not the most sensitive thing to say but it was the truth of how I felt. I
also sent ---- ------* a text giving my condolences that he had lost a good friend and I had
even made a Townes Van Zandt CD for ---- ------* (which I ended up giving to an ex-
girlfriend, which made ---- ------* even more angrier because he thought she had nothing
to do with me and had tried to use that to make me feel bad. ---- ------* texted me that I
had no friends and that idea is so laughable, I didn’t even feel the need to respond to it.) so as
to ease any funereal suffering he might be feeling. Which I doubt was much. I’m sure that
he used the occasion as an excuse to get fucked up, again and again.

A year or so ago, ---- ------* had come to me for help because the Muslim guy and
him were fighting over their Marijuana grow operation and ---- ------* was scared shitless of
this guy. One afternoon, I received a frantic phone call from ---- ------*. I was the only
person he could trust and he had to have my help tearing down the start of a grow house in
North Stockton that had been compromised by the Muslim’s constant bickering and drug
use. ---- ------* wanted to set the Muslim guy up to be killed and/or have him arrested for
his blatant drug use. The Muslim had many people talking about him; rumors on the street

*The name of this asshole has been deleted at the insistence of Kazinsky’s lawyers.
that he was a snitch for the police and that he had a serious problem with crystal
methamphetamine. I know that he sniffed outrageous amounts of cocaine with ---- ------*
because I saw that personally. I even inhaled some of the White Death myself but as always, I
kept to my three line rule and I would only use the drug if I had complete assurance that it
was some good shit. When ---- ------* became friends with the Muslim again (drugs rule
everything in that Society), ---- ------* and him would come to my then girlfriend’s house
near The Miracle Mile. They would always be drunk and on drugs, mainly marijuana,
cocaine, xanax/valium, and whatever alcohol they could afford that night.

After the Muslim died the mysterious death, ---- ------* had nobody to fight his
battles for him. So ignoring the other respectful text’s I sent to him about the Muslim’s
death, ---- ------* began to show the insensitive Karma text to friends of the Muslim.
Quite naturally, they were upset and I suppose they had a right to know what I meant. ---- -
-----* called me at my house one early Friday morning a month ago and proceeded to hand
the phone around to a couple of guys and a girl, who all told me that they were going to
fuck me up and blah blah blah blah. I knew it was all nonsense because I offered to meet
them wherever they wanted. Just like ---- ------* they refused to meet me and told me
that they would be seeing me at their convenience.

As far as I am concerned, these people have nothing to do with the problem that I
have with ---- ------*. I understand why they might be upset because of my stupid,
insensitive text so I am willing to give them all a pass, if they cease and desist with this
ignorant bullshit that ---- ------* has involved them in. ---- ------* will not get a pass
from Karma. There will be a reckoning with him and I won’t even have to do a damn thing
because I have faith in Karma and ---- ------‘s* Karma is quite shitty. He has done many
bad things in his life and he does not show any signs of stopping this degenerate, addict
behavior. Last Valentine’s Day, the Muslim and him ripped of some guy from Sacramento for
a pound of Marijuana. A classic grab and snatch because that is kind of person he is. ---- --
----* is the complete definition of a some what intelligent (before the cocaine rotted what
brains he was born with), sneaky fuck up that only cares about himself and his drugs. The
guy he sent to threaten me was the same guy who had ripped him off and the same guy he
had wanted to kill a year before. It was a stunning example of cocaine (drug) logic.

Loyalty is the most important thing in any sort of relationship. I base my true
friendships on Loyalty and Respect, two things that I find lacking in the younger generations.
My friendships are not built on a shaky foundation of Drugs, although I admit most of my
friends dabble in social drug use, mostly marijuana. There is nothing wrong with that, I
believe, nor is there wrong with doing other recreational drugs. With the exception of
Heroin and a few other drugs, it is alright to experiment with and use some of the other
drugs. Marijuana is the drug most commonly abused; I am guilty of it myself but I am glad
that I do not drink alcohol much. Alcohol is a dangerous drug and when mixed with other

*The name of this asshole has been deleted at the insistence of Kazinsky’s lawyers.
dugs, it can have can kill you. Some of my friends are alcoholics (such as ---- ------*) and if
I told them that, they would look at me crazy. Addiction creeps slowly and the monkey
grows larger on your back, until you feel his steel sharp claws digging into your scalp. The
only relief is the substance which you abuse. It’s a vicious cycle and I have lost many friends
to this disease, whether directly or indirectly.

---- ------* is a marijuana grower. He carries a medical cannabis card but he is just
another greedy grower that uses the guise of medical marijuana to further his financial goals.
Before he had accumulated a reputation of growing good tree, he was just another weed
dealer. He was an exception in the trade because while he smoked a ton of ganja, he
managed to save quite a bit of money. Most dealers make good money but it is out of their
hands, spent on nonsense, before they even finish counting it. ---- ------* spent money on
cameras and computers and yet always seemed to have cash. One day, I helped him count his
stash of hundred dollar bills and it turned out to be eight thousand dollars. Since ---- -----
-* did not know how to launder the money, he took his money to a man whom he felt he
could trust. This man was my drug addicted father. He took ---- ------’s money and it was
never seen again. I have suspicions of where the money went and what it was spent on but it
doesn’t really matter now because my father is three years dead from an overdose of
prescription narcotics in Oregon. I do not feel responsible about the money because other
than counting the cash, I had nothing to do with ---- ------* and my father. I was even
going to give The Blue Lady to ---- ------* (1983 Mercedes Benz 300d that was bought
around the time the money disappeared) but I decided it would be a waste of a financial
resource because I knew that the car would be put up his nose at some point. However, I feel
that ---- ------* got off cheap in the long run because my father stole almost twenty
thousand dollars from myself and that is twelve thousand more than what was stolen from --
-- ------*.

It was after the loss of this money that ---- ------‘s* use of cocaine became more
frequent. What I find odd is that he remained friends with me, even after my father was dead.
In fact, there was one time when ---- ------* was coked to the gills at my ex-girlfriend’s
house and he sat on the couch with tears in his eyes, incoherently telling me how much he
loved me as a brother and that the money was not issue at all. Even while ---- ------* was
telling me this, I knew it was a lie or at least a feeling brought on momentarily by the
euphoria caused by the cocaine. In fact, ---- ------* was a much nicer person when he
sniffing huge lines of coke. He was very generous, always giving lines away and rolling up
some of the best marijuana that was ever grown in Stockton.

Cocaine can cause weak minded people to be manic and paranoid, and ---- ------*
took to sitting in the bathroom of my ex girlfriend’s house for long periods of time. He
would sort of perch over the toilet, not exactly sitting but also not really standing. He kind
of hovered over the toilet seat, with a rolled up hundred dollar bill (I preferred a straw but ---

*The name of this asshole has been deleted at the insistence of Kazinsky’s lawyers.
- ------* wanted to roll up the hundred dollar bills as a sort of status thing. This behavior
resulted in more than one bill being lost or stolen, more than likely by the Muslim.) in one
hand and cocaine arranged in lines on a CD tray in the other. He would stay in this position
for hours, making it sometimes difficult to use the bathroom. ---- ------* would make an
eight ball disappear like a magician’s trick and then would start making phone calls to get
some more of The White Death. All the while, he would be popping little blue pills of Xanax
or Valium. Maybe he would take some Oxycontin or Vicodin if it was available. He would
waste my Wild Turkey while in the throes of cocaine high, by pouring a shot and then
forgetting about it until much later, if ever. Beer would meet the same fate. The flip side of
the coin is that he would start drinking heavily to come down off the coke and he could
make alcohol and tranquilizers disappear with a suddenness that was more than a little scary.
A friend of mine, a locally famous skater in Stockton, told me that he once saw ---- ------*
pop at least forty valiums in one night. These were not the weak ones but the full strength
prescription.

This is the type of behavior I want to distance myself from. I’ve experimented with
drugs. I still smoke marijuana heavily and I have a legal prescription of vicodin for psoriatic
arthritis. If someone offered me pure cocaine, I would sniff some. I can still drink a fifth of
Turkey 101, if I wanted but I don’t have much desire for alcohol anymore. Watching all my
friends change into caricatures of rotten addiction has made me realize that I do not want to
be that way and this realization has made me even more reclusive than before. However, I
have remained silent for far too long. I have been misunderstood and the only way to clarify
The Truth to these miserable pig-fuckers is to write this letter, not that I expect it to be taken
seriously. The idiots who plot against me should read this and take it not as a warning, but as
a simple statement of fact. I am not without resources and while I wish to be left alone in
peace so that I can finish school in an exemplary fashion, I will start pooling these different
resources into one bunch so that any attack made on me or my mom can be met with a
formidable defense. If you are a true, loyal friend of Kazinsky’s, then I love you and there is
nothing that I will not do for you. If you are not and wish me any sort of harm, I advise you
to rethink your position and leave me be because Karma has a ironic way of killing my
enemies.

Sincerely,

Drew Kazinsky
Stockton, California
December 17, 2010

.A.N.F.

*The name of this asshole has been deleted at the insistence of Kazinsky’s lawyers.