Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a big fucking television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disk players and electrical tin openers...choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning.
Choose sitting on the couch, watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing 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 embarassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you spawned to replace yourself.