Rastafarii ::Choose no life. Choose no career. Choose no family. Choose a fucking big computer, choose web servers the size of washing machines, wi-fi mouse, ergonomic keyboard and electrical coffee makers. Choose no sleep, high caffeine and mental insurance. Choose no friends. Choose blue jeans and cotton t-shirts. Choose chairs for your office in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose HTTP and wonder why the fuck are you logged on on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting in that swivel chair looking at mind-numbing, spirit-crushing websites, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in some miserable newsgroup, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up losers Gates spawned to replace the computer-literate.
