There comes a tide in the affairs of men...

There comes a tide in the affairs of men... When you feel that all is fittered away and life is a boring mess... When gazing at the setting sun and the company of friends and alcohol mean the most in life...

Life???

Choose 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 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 Sunday morning. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves.

Choose your future.

Choose life. But why would I want to do a thing like that?

There are times when it all seems too petty and unforgiving. Times when you wish you were an artist living on a stripend. What do you do then?