Lust for life

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a carrer. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc 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 leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on 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, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life. But why would I want to do a thing like that?

(Mark Renton - Trainspotting)

Nota-se muito que estou a chegar aos 30 e que não devo ver filmes que vi com 17? By the way, lembram-se do Tommy? O certinho a quem o Renton rouba a cassete íntima? É o Hunt da Grey's Anatomy. Na foto é o da trunfa loira.