poniedziałek, 10 grudnia 2007


'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 and higher purchase and a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY 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, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you've spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future, choose life. But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life, I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons! Who needs reasons when you've got ...............?'

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