Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electric tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in 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, pushing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrasment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourslef. Choose your future. Choose life. But why would I want to do something like that? Choose Life. Choose a site. Choose a career. Choose a screen name. Choose a fucking big signature, choose interests, cars, compact disc players and a computer. Choose good English, low moral and post about your insurance. Choose a unique title. Choose a newbie to adopt. Choose your friends. Choose a style and matching pics. Choose your sexual preference and matching fetishes. Choose alcohol and post about your sunday hangover. Choose sitting on that chair reading mind-numbing, spirit crushing poll posts, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of every day, bumping your last post that's nothing more than an embarrasment to the selfish, fucked up brats that Al doesn't want you to spawn. Choose your future. Choose life. Choose Something Awful.