Back in the old days when me and my mate Tracey used to sit in human biology together watching sex videos trying not to laugh we talked about anything and everything. One thing we used to discuss was being ‘the chosen one’. This was not being selected as the next king/queen/the child of satan, it was to do with buses! So imagine your on the bus, you sit down in an empty seat because all the other seats have a person already sat on them. When the next person gets on they will have to choose who to sit next to. If you were lucky (or unlucky in some cases) to be chosen, you were referred to as ‘the chosen one’. We used to think it was particularly mean when the person getting on used to make eye contact with you only to choose someone else, but then we live in a harsh world. Anyway, the whole point of this. I was sat on the bus this morning, I sit on the top at the front because I like to pretend I’m driving it. There were loads of spare seats behind for people to spread out yet I ended up with someone sat next to me! I was ‘the chosen one’! Being ‘the chosen one’ when there are other places to sit is just plain odd. ‘The chosen one’ concept however is perfectly normal.
In other news, the woman who works in the chippy is a miserable cow, i was late for work again, i ate a brown slightly seeded bap and i didn’t remove my wooley hat for the entire time i was in work.