Choose a 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 DSY and wondering who the fuck you are on a
Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit
crushing game shows, stucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away in
the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an
embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself,
choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like
that?
Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting
