Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing maschines, cars, compact disk 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 leisureware and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Coose 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, perishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.