
Very well, pinhead...
As your language is guided by the forum title, not your own moral standards, I'd better dumb my language to your level. With a pseudonym like 'warmachine', a battlemech as my avatar, a signature from the film 'Trainspotting', the catchphrase 'Run! Get out while you can!' and recent posts labelling the christian god a wanker, does it seem likely that I wear a powder blue cardigan and attend therapy? Let me give you a clue. My shirts are red.
You do know what 'dichotomy' means, don't know?
Matthew Greet
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 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 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? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?
- Mark Renton, Trainspotting.