Choose no life. Choose sysadminning. Choose no career. ***** Choose no family. Choose a fucking big computer, choose hard * * disks the size of washing machines, old cars, CD ROM writers * A * and electrical coffee makers. Choose no sleep, high caffeine * D * and mental insurance. Choose fixed interest car loans. Choose * M * a rented shoebox. Choose no friends. Choose black jeans and * I * matching combat boots. Choose a swivel chair for your office * N * in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose NNTP and wondering why * S * the fuck you're logged on on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting * P * in that chair looking at mind-numbing, spirit-crushing web * O * sites, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose * T * rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last on some * T * miserable newsgroup, nothing more than an embarrassment to * I * the selfish, fucked up lusers Gates spawned to replace the * N * computer-literate. * G * Choose your future. * * Choose sysadmining\[1\]. ***** Gaz \[1\] It might fuck you up a little less than heroin\[2\]. \[2\] ObFootnote.