Choose no life.
Choose no carreer.
Choose no family.
Choose a fucking big computer, choose disk arrays the size of washing machines, modem racks, cd-rom writers and electrical coffeemakers.
Choose no sleep, high caffeine and mental insuranse.
Choose no friends, choose black jeans and matching combat boots.
Choose chairs for your office in a range at fucking fabrics.
Choose SMTP and wondering why the fuck you are logged on on a sunday morning.
Choose a sitting in that swivel chair looking at mind-numbing, spirit crushing websites, stuffing junk food into your mouth.
Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in some miserable newsgroup, nothing more than an embarassement to the selfish fucked up loosers Gates spawned to replace the computer literate.

Choose your future.
Choose to sysadmin.