anyone remember this:
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose
a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact
disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low
cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage
repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose
leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on
hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and
wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that
couch watching mind-numbing spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing
fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end
of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than
an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned
to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why
would I want to do a thing like that?
