Since I’m going to be writing to you a lot, you’ll need to know about an important part of my life: being a Kendrick. I bet you’re wondering what a Kendrick is, right? I’ll tell you the story now. Long ago, there were three dude’s named Edward Kendrick, Dick Silivinski, and John Esmond. One day, they all got drunk and John or Edward murdered Silivinski. Or at least that’s what every thinks. My theory? They were having rough gay sex and Silivinski, a virgin to anal and sucking cock, was in the middle. But I guess it’s better to be known as a murder suspect than to be known as a fag. No one knew who supposedly murdered Silivinski, and as a result people when batshit crazy trying to figure it out. Some fell into depression, some moved to get away from it all. In the end, no one found out who did it, and people split themselves into two groups: Kendricks thought Edward was innocent, Esmonds thought John was innocent. Now years later, we’re still fighting. Sound stupid? That’s because it is. I’m not sure what good following an ancient feud will do. Because of this feud, I can’t interact with any Esmonds. If I do, I’ve gotta treat them like dirt, unless I risk getting punished. I heard some guy got his left testicle cut off because he kissed an Esmond girl. The Kendricks are maniacs. There are a whole set of rules about what you can and can’t do with the Esmonds, but I don’t really listen to them. I don’t think a lot of people my age do. I have a few Esmond friends, but they’re chill and they won’t rat on me and get me into trouble. Remember what I just told you, it’s really important.