ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A local piece of sun-dried devon has bought himself a needlessly expensive diary today in the hope that it’ll turn his pointless life around.
This year marks the first year that Oliver O’Reardon’s mother hasn’t purchased a Moleskine diary for him. He says it’s because he’s an unmarried 34-year-old with the lung function of someone twice his age.
She says it’s because she forgot.
One thing that Oliver enjoys doing more than most things is to go and find an ATM, put his card in and withdraw some cash, then throw it on the footpath and walk away.
Another thing he likes doing, but not as much is putting cash directly into a bin. Any bin, it doesn’t matter.
Oliver spoke briefly to our reporter after wrapping up a conversation he was having by himself in the Rover Road public toilets.
“You want to know why I bought this?” he asked our reporter at the urinal.
He held out a fresh 2020 Moleskine diary with the plastic still wrapped around it. After a pause, he took the plastic off with his teeth and threw it into the trough.
“Wee on it,” he said.
Oliver and our reporter wee’d on the diary for about a minute, then Oliver bent over to pick it up.
“Perfect,” he said softly to himself as he put the soaking diary into his briefcase.
He then left without saying another word.
More to come.
