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.                                           *****



   Choose no life. Choose no career. Choose no family. Choose a fucking
   big computer, choose disk arrays the size of washing machines, modem
   racks, CD-ROM writers and electrical coffee makers. Choose no sleep,
   high caffeine and mental insurance. Choose no friends. Choose black
   jeans and matching combat boots. Choose chairs for your office in a
   range of fucking fabrics. Choose SMTP and wondering why the fuck you
   are logged on on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting in that swivel chair
   looking at mind-numbing, spirit-crushing web sites, stuffing fucking
   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
   embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up lusers Gates spawned to
   replace the computer-literate. Choose your future. Choose to sysadmin.