Rumors of my personal information have been greatly incorrect and exaggerated - nevertheless, it doesn't cease to amaze me that you win-trading ilk are still trying, even after literal years. Aren't you some horrible looking Indian chap who went to an all boy's school for most of his life?
I don't care enough about you to dispute fine details, but I'm sure your appearance doesn't stand up to scrutiny. Congratulations on your minor financial comforts - enjoy settling down with a woman you're ashamed to be seen with in public and only living out your delusions of grandeur when you're online, pretending to be some sort of shamanistic spell caster whose fake accolades were purchased and cheated into reality.
I've never owned, driven or been inside a Prius. My turn: aren't you like 5'7? I've articulated intensely physical sexual fantasies for girls taller than you.
You insulting my class of car is like Bailamos calling me, "blue collar" - what's your point? I've achieved more than you, and done so in less time. I do greatly enjoy, however, the realization that my insults towards you have struck their mark so viciously, and with so much accuracy, that you're forced to drop your nice-guy facade and expose yourself as the insecure immigrant you see in the mirror - even now, years after the thought of your brown inferiority ever crossed my mind's adept focus.