Choose your future.
Taurus: Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home.
Gemini: Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning.
Cancer: Choose a family.
Leo: Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin can openers.
Virgo: Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance.
Libra: Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.
Scorpio: 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 have spawned to replace yourself.
Sagittarius: Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth.
Capricorn: Choose a job. Choose a career.
Aquarius: Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage.
Pisces: I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?