I´m not a tourist...

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 mortage 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 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.

I´m not a tourist...

esta página va con mozilla, pringaos! pasad del explorer.

domingo, 27 de mayo de 2007

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:::otros lugares:::

tags (no etiquetas, soy super guay y estudio inglés -que no ingles-)

::::otras paranoias no muy distintas a las de hoy::::

texto de monterroso + oveja negra: +

gente perdida q comete el error de entrar en este pánfilo y pérfido lugar sin xeito

abrazaddmeee sabeis que soy mimosa!