So hang on a second. Let me see if I heard you correctly. What I heard you say—and forgive me, my hearing isn't what it used to be—but according to my memory, you're saying you don't like apple juice? Do I have that right? You don't like apple juice? Seriously? Apple juice? Apple juice. You don't like apple juice. What do you mean you don't like apple juice? I love apple juice. Apple juice is the best. It's probably my favorite juice, actually. And yet, somehow, you claim not to like it. What don't you like about it? How cold and sweet and perfect it is? I realize we've had a lot of disagreements over the years, and some of that is on me, and some of it is on you. No big deal. It's just the way things are. So 9/11 was an inside job, the president is a terrorist, and you don't like apple juice. Do I have this right? Am I distorting your position? That you don't like apple juice? You don't, though. That's what you said. Not my words. But come on, how can you, and I quote, "not like apple juice"? I mean, forget love. Love is off the table for the purposes of this discussion. Love doesn't even have to enter into it. I love it, always have. But you don't even like it? How can you not like apple juice? That makes no sense to me. But then again, neither does racism or sexism, so I guess I'll have to learn to live with this, too. Enjoy reading your Ayn Rand books in your freezing cave of bigoted self-deception. Don't worry about me. I'll just be right here, drinking the rest of this icy, refreshing Tree Top® apple juice. recommended