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 SPRIT-CRUSHING GA ME 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 WHO WOULD I WANT TO DO A THING LIKE THAT?
I CHOSE NOT TO CHOOSE LIFE: I CHOSE SOMETHING ELSE»-(¯..v..¯)-» Design your MySpace with MyLook «-(¯..v..¯)-«
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