Forget about Jared and Ivanka, Ranjeet! Look at you.

That smile, that head of hair, that swarthy complexion, that rakish tilt to your head. What are you…some kind of exotic, far eastern god??

Sure, you can afford to mock the romance between the naive, dimpled cliptip and his innocent, porcelain-faced bride. Of course you can laugh at the rest of us muddling our way through the minefields of passion and courtship, you with your silver mane and pearly white, flirty mouthful of teeth.

I thought maybe I liked you at first, Ranjeet, but now I can see that you just logged onto this platform to make the rest of us feel small and unattractive. It worked, alright, you happy now?!

Go, go back to whatever golden tower you came from, Ranjeet, and just leave us warty pustules to work out the mysteries of love on our own.

How dare you!


P.S. This is not funny!

Writer. Satirist. Author. Cyclist. Visit me at

Writer. Satirist. Author. Cyclist. Visit me at