Oscar Wilde.
Poor, dear Oscar.
Since I moved back to Reading, I have spent up to several minutes thinking about the fate of the town's most famous - and most reluctant - resident, slammed up in Reading Gaol on ancient homosexuality laws.
For every time I pass Reading Gaol, I think about the torment to which Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde was subjected, knowing that just on the other side of the wall was a McDonalds Drive-Thru restaurant. Those tasty, tasty M&M McFlurries, so near yet so far. The thought of it must have driven the great poet and wit halfway up the wall.
I'm surprised he didn't mention it in his poem, to be honest.
Worse, there's a big Argos next door to Reading Gaol McDonalds. It must have killed Oscar Wilde in the heart to know that the new catalogue's out, and he couldn't get his hands on Britain's favourite retail doorstop.
And just down from McDonalds, Argos and the big Toys R Us, is DFS. The Linda Barker range. No wonder poor, poor Oscar fled the country on his release, never to return.
Oscar Wilde: We're really, really sorry.
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