I can be silent no longer

Dear Mark Cuban,

I love you. I do realize you're a married man, so please know that this expression is almost entirely platonic.

I love your zeal. I love your unabashed delight with your wealth and all the fun it affords you. I love that you love your team. I love your hair. I love that you're completely and utterly spastic (though I do sometimes worry about your blood pressure. Have you had it checked lately?). I love that you snub the press (even though, let's face it, the press does you more good than harm). For a while there, I thought I might not love you, as you let Steve Nash leave our fair city. However, Steve Nash did not write me back, which proves you were right about him all along, and so I reinstated my love. I love that you have a blog! And you know what? I think I'd love damned near any man brash enough to say, "When I die, I want to come back as me." I love ... you, Mark Cuban.

Sincerely,
Rock and Roll Grammarian