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 payments. 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. Chose D.I.Y. and wondering who the fuck 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. Pissing your last in a miserable home; nothing more than an embarrassment ... to the selfish, fucked-up brats that you've spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life.