Page one, post one of this thread was created by Charin. You clicked on it. Then you clicked on it again. And again. And again. And once more. Then again. Then again. Then again. Still not done. Back once more. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Your argument calling me a fruit is ripe. You are a spotted, brown banana, you fruit-salad-tossing dolt. I'm peeling with laughter. You're all pulp and that's no fiction.