mark cuban is not my friend

text from my aunt last night:

“we went to the bobcats/mavericks game last night and your buddy mark cuban was in the next suite. he sends his regards!”

how sweet of him. my regards back include something having to do with a bird doing flips and a swift kick where the sun don’t shine; not necessarily in that order.
oh yeah, cuban and i go way back. and whatever the opposite of a fan is? that’s me.
edited to add: i guess we are friends. hi, mark.

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