Dear Snoop Dogg,

I have, for a very long time, declared to the world that you were my above-all most favorite celebrity. Anybody who knows anything about me at all can tell you this.

Our relationship truly began when I picked up "Doggystyle" on cassette for 25¢ at my local Record Exchange in 2001. It quickly became one of my favorite albums. I realize my obsession may perhaps be a little late based on its release several years previous, but it really came to me at the right time in my life. I played it nonstop in my car for months - even though the bass made the crappy speakers in my car sound like they wanted to pop out of the dash and claw my eyes out.

I was always telling everybody how cool you were, and how I totally wished we were related, like if you were my uncle or something. Hangin' with Uncle Snoop! That would have been so rad. 

I shot through the roof when I discovered you were a Steelers fan. How awesome is that? I even gave you a shout-out in a previous article I wrote. I also nearly slit my wrists last year when I *almost* got box seats with you at last year's Steelers/Chargers game. We can save this story for a future posting.

There was also an incident last 4th of July when I played "Signs" (one of my top 5 favorite songs) nonstop for 3 hours with my boom box on my shoulder while cruising the streets OB. You can consider this free promotion - on me. 

You were at the 50-yard line at last year's Super Bowl, you performed at a pre-Super Bowl party, and then you partied with some of the Steelers after we won. (Okay, I might internet-stalk you from time to time.) 

So Snoop, PLEASE explain this to me:

 ...because I think I'm going to throw up now. God.