A FaceBook status update originally posted on 18 May 2014 showing a growing discontent about the way the site was working for me.
I don’t know if you remember me. It’s been a while so I hope you don’t mind me writing to you out of the blue like this.
You may recall we used to be together when we were much younger. We were dreamers then. Me with my life and you with your incessant thirst for knowledge. We shared good times. We exchanged ideas, thoughts and sometimes the odd laugh.
But we grew apart. I heard rumours that you would spread our little secrets to all and sundry, no matter how many times I’d ask you not to. And you did have a nasty habit of constantly asking to play that awful FarmVille all the time.
So we stopped seeing each other. I moved on, particularly with my new best friend, Twitter. But I always kept you in my thoughts, observing you from afar.
Thankfully your FarmVille obsession seems to have rescinded, although sadly replaced by the frankly much worse Candy Crush Saga. How disappointing you are.
Despite this I think we can be friends again, even though I know deep in my heart you will still splash our private thoughts all around the place even if I continue to ask you not to. I’ll just have to watch what I say. A technique I have learned from seeing how others patently do the opposite.
However, I am wiling to give us a go again. No promises. You know me. But let’s hang out again. Although not with that Google crowd, I’m not that weird.
I’ll probably start slow. Maybe the odd comment on our shared timelines. In time I may post some proper updates. Maybe even the occasional photograph. We’ll see.
I think this will work, providing you stop asking me where I work, the school I attended more than three decades ago and what my inside leg measurement is. Some secrets a man must keep to himself. And some a man should just share with his old mate FriendsReunited.
And whilst we’re at it stop suggesting I might know a load of people who clearly look like a frightful bunch of potential petty criminals. Yes I admit I may have shared my past with some of them but the fact that I have had little to do with them in the past forty odd years must tell you something.
And whilst we are on the new rules, don’t start trying to find out where I go all the time. I don’t share that sort of stuff with anyone. Except my friend FourSquare that is.
Despite all this I’m up for giving it another go.
Your old friend, Vince
P.S. Don’t tell MySpace. I’m not reigniting that flame and he’s already sad enough, it could tip him over the edge.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Social Media section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 1 Oct 2018
First published as a FaceBook status update on 18 May 2014
I have to read things. It’s part of my make up, who I am. I am curious and love gathering knowledge. And a great source of detailed information is plastered all over our products and the most enlightening and interesting is the ingredients list on seemingly simple products. I’ll give an example just to see if you can guess the product before the end reveal.
The first ingredient listed is always the largest component and in this particular case is Aqua. Now if you were paying attention in double Latin you will know that this comes from the old English word meaning Akker, short for Acker Bilk a clarinetist who became famous for being the only clarinetist anyone could name. The Akker term was used to describe the spittle and dribble emanating from the business end of his instrument. Later this ‘Akker’ became Aqua during the Latinisation of old English words during the 1950’s when certain Oxbridge elements wanted to seem more clever than the general populous. In other words Aqua just means water and no one except Stephen Fry can understand why they just don’t say that.
The second most common element is a compound, which is really two elements so by combining have jumped up the list unfairly. This compound is Sodium Chloride. As any chemistry student knows this is actually just salt so why the pretentious ingredient listers bother with fourteen letters and a space when four will do can only lead one to suspect that they are in it up to their necks with the Ink Printing Association and frankly the Government should look into this rather than wasting all that time on the Hutton Enquiry.
Coming in in third place is the second Sodium collaboration, this time with Benzoate. Why Sodium wants a second billing is as strange as the word ‘in’ wanting a second billing at the head of this paragraph [I bet you five pounds you had to check]. What is even stranger is that Benzoate is a common misspelling of the term Benz 08, the eighth car produced by Mercedes. We all know that Sodium and old cars don’t really mix so this ingredient actually just refers to rust. Or as the aforementioned Ink Printers & Affiliates Association would put it Ferrous Oxide.
The next listed ingredient is Polysorbate 20. Clearly the manufacturers of this product had to undergo years of testing just to establish that Polysorbate 20 was clearly better/cheaper/more environmentally friendly [delete as appropriate] than Polysorbate 19 or any other number less or indeed more than this. For the technically minded amongst you you may like to know that Polysorbate 1 is the amount of liquid you can mop up using a single Standard Unit parrot.
Next up is the old familiar Sodium Lauryl Glucose Carboxylate or SLGC for short. Again Sodium has chosen to get in a mix with other products rather than stand out on it’s own. In fact if it did it would probably rate above Aqua so one must conclude that Sodium is inherently shy. In this case hiding amongst Lauryl, Glucose and Carboxylate, an unknown comedy trio who’s fortunes turned around when Carboxylate left them to join another team. Lauryl and Glucose re-branded themselves Laurel and Hardy and Carbo, as he became known, joined the other Marx Brothers.
The next listed ingredient is Malic Acid. This is obtained from the Hollywood actor Art Malik so is very expensive. It is a well kept industry secret that after his work on ‘The Jewel In The Crown’ and ‘A Passage To India’ he was ground down using a large Mortar and Pestle for use in various products and his appearance in True Lies was actually done by Ronnie Corbett on a pair of stilts with some clever post production work and Ronni Ancona’s voice-over.
Next up, according to the list is Lauryl Glucoside. But I think this is just a lie because I had a very close look using a quite big magnifying glass and I couldn’t see any.
Nearing the end now and we come across Parfum. Now many think this is just a smug way of saying perfume intimating this to be a pleasant thing. Again this fallacy must be redressed and if broken down into it’s constituent parts of Parf and Um you will see it’s true meaning is a fart.
The next ingredient is the most difficult to explain. Not because it is a complex compound it’s just so darned difficult to spell. It’s the trips off the tongue, old familiar, we all know it as Methylisothiazolinone. A long word that scientists use when they haven’t really got a clue what they found but without it the Ingredients Standards & Ink Printing Affiliates Association Incorporated will not sign off the packaging [Has that Hutton Enquiry finished yet?]
Third from last is Aloe Barbadensis Extract. This is a passage from the Hawaiian novel ‘Hello Barber Dentist’. A short story about a young girl who hooks up with a hairdresser who has a secret life as a doctor. I believe the word for doctor and dentist is the same in Hawaiian which might seem odd but not as odd as the six-hundred and fourteen words they have for podiatrist.
The penultimate ingredient is Propylene Glycol. As opposed to Impropylene Glycol. Glycol is a fancy word for antifreeze and in this case is proper lean. In other words weak antifreeze.
The final ingredient of this mysterious product is Tocopherol Acetate and let’s face it as it is the final ingredient it hardly features at all so is not really worth considering. In fact given there are ten other more copious compounds one wonders whether the actual product would be substantially altered by it’s omission. In fact let’s start a campaign here and now to reduce the number of products in our products by leaving out the least included. Except in the case of salt of course which will otherwise just revert to Sodium, which as we have already established wants none of the attention.
So, have you guessed the product yet? I’ll give you a reminder of what’s in it:- Sodium, Water, Salt [i.e. more Sodium], Rust, Slapstick, essence of Art Malik, a bit of fart, some paragraphs, a spot of weak antifreeze and a teenie bit of something not really needed. Which all makes it much clearer than the arse-wipe list on the actual packet as insisted by the Ink Printers & Bankers Bonus Society Corporation Of America, Honduras & Affiliated Offshore Accounts PLC.
So would you eat this only good for flushing straight down the loo stuff?
I hope not because it’s actually a real arse-wipe list. Check out the back of your next packet of bottie wipes and you’ll see what I mean.
Well what do you expect me to do whilst sat here waiting? I have to read something.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Blog section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 30 Aug 2018
If you want to hear me read this Blog post to you I adapted it for my sixteenth blog post, Pod 16 – Ingreedyents, posted in iTunes and here on my WordPress site dated 19 Nov 2014
First published within the Blog on 16 Mar 2011
At first all the cucumber aficionados reading this will be salivating at the thought that there is to be a Cucumber campaign. No doubt the thought of selfless promotion of their favourite green cylindrical vegetable will drive them wild with excitement. But this campaign is to reduce their use. I hate the things and I am fed up with them turning up uninvited in my sandwich rolls.
For the last few years we have been constantly droned on at to eat more healthily and my relatively recent contribution is to engage full on with the salad world. Well, when I say full on I don’t mean the whole banana. I don’t relish radishes, crave cress or press for peppers but I have taught myself the art of enjoying a little bit of lettuce, providing it’s not masquerading as that rocket/garden weed nonsense. And I have always liked tomato and egg so with a bit of proper food [i.e. meat] I can handle a salad sandwich from time to time.
The trouble is the purveyors of such delicatessen insist on chucking as much ingredients into their wares as possible and this usually includes an obligatory slice of Cucumis Sativus. No doubt using two thin slices of this cheap creeping vine pod appeals to their sense of value but for me it’s strong flavour just stains the rest of the sandwich and puts me off purchase. And don’t go telling me that they hardly taste of anything as they are 90% water because if that is the case don’t bother adding them in the first place.
My main issue is that nobody really likes these things. My misses claims to like cucumber but not once have I seen her purchase one for snack consumption. Despite the easy natural packaging no one eats a cucumber in the street, such as happens with apples and bananas for instance.
You may think why pick on the cucumber? After all in a similar way the tomato is not universally appreciated yet this is added to salad rolls for presumably the same reason and people don’t eat them in the street. The answer is in the design of the tomato. It may have the same convenient outer packaging as a cucumber but it packs a surprise squish inside rendering it impossible to eat anywhere except leaning over a sink. So totally unsuitable for street snacking. And to reinforce the positives of a tomato it adds a new and exciting colour to a salad sandwich. Cucumber’s just ape the green of the lettuce that’s already there. Plus I like tomatoes.
So lets ditch the cucumber. The most pointless addition to a sandwich ever.
Apart from sweetcorn of course. That nasty little cancer gets everywhere. Try buying a salad or pasta snack in your local supermarket and there it is. Little yellow bits of stinking pus-pebbles ruining every dish and impossible to remove without tweezers and a sieve. Tastes even stronger and twice as sickly than crappy cucumber. And for some reason always added to otherwise delicious tuna offerings. What is this stupid fish/corn-cob relationship based on? As far as I know nothing in the natural world that David Attenborough has ever enlightened us about despite an almost obsessive annual BBC series on the subject. I adore tuna. Tuna is good for me. Sweetcorn makes me puke. Why stop at Tunacorn? Why not just go the whole hog and pointlessly insist on adding dandelion leaves to every smoked salmon slice?
Or better still why not make things simpler? Sandwiches, rolls, baps, tacos, submarines and pittas should only contain one ingredient. An obvious main ingredient, such as the meat, or for those vaginatarians say an egg. Then also on display at the same point should be the personal add ons, such as lettuce, tomato and [if you really insist] cucumber, sweetcorn and dandelion. The user could add these extras at will and build a sarnie to their precise taste and health requirements.
Yes, I am aware that the Subway sandwich chain already take this approach but why not our local supermarket, corner shop or garage forecourt?
Lettuce start the Cucumber Campaign today.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Opinions section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 29 Aug 2018
First published within the Blog on 6 Feb 2011
The heat from the ground rose defiantly, shimmering above the winding road, the distortions playing havoc with the clear cut edge of the tarmac strip.
A feint roar could be heard from the distant horizon. The noise grew louder and louder, now heard well above the relentless chanting of the birds and insects. A glint of light was caught in the distance and as the rumble drew closer it could be observed that a motorcyclist, resplendent in his white leather jacket, was riding his mount rapidly towards the ancient monument half a mile away.
As the rider rode faster into the foreground it could be observed that this was no ordinary day tripper. The open megaphone type exhausts echoed a note reminiscent of track racers, the rapid acceleration shattered only by the tortuously hard braking for his next corner belayed an experienced street racer. Each gear change was just a flick from his right boot just a fraction of momentum lost. At every corner the hot black rubber of the tyres scrabbled for grip, the footrests causing sparks to be flown from the tarmac. Then again the rider pulled upright rapidly towards the next bend in an ecstasy of speed and tormented delight.
This frantic moment of riding soon came to a close. The rider having pulled out of a sweeping right hander screwed open the throttle, laid on the tank and watched the long straight unfurl in front of him. The speedometer needle indicated seventy, eighty, …ninety passed as his right foot forced the next gear into operation. The black chromed exhausts bleated out in beautiful harmony as one-hundred and ten showed. Ton-twenty and the motor screamed for more, the airstream battling with the rider for control of the machine.
The needle peaked at one-hundred and twenty-five as the next bend loomed into the distance. Within a split second the rider’s right hand was gripping the brake lever. The motion abruptly spoiled as the black calipers grabbed the shining twin front discs. The front end dropped as the weight fell on the front wheel, the forks diving in pain as ninety, seventy, fifty passed. Then a quick gear change and the bike cruised gently round the next bend.
Now that the riding was more sedate the details of man and machine could be seen. The rider wearing his black crash helmet, bearing the mark of a Greek God painted delicately in gold, faded blue jeans and studded leather boots was haunched over a mainly black bike.
The heart of the bike, a mighty V-twin motor, thumped it’s power through a huge chain and was converted to power by a massive oversize rear tyre. The front end, braced by two powerful looking forks, boasted a huge tyre, twin discs and rather unsubstantial but neat looking mudguard. Above, the double headlights were gripped in a small nose fairing suggesting night racing but were taped over as it was a sunny afternoon.
Above the unburstable black motor lay a shiny, glimmering petrol tank. As with the rest of the machine it was gloss black and only the golden letters broke the monotony. The name reminiscent of by-gone days where the engine once ruled the roads, now emblazoned on the most beautiful bike in the world, read…VINCENT.
Vince was proud of his bike. Very proud. He had read how customers spend hundreds of pounds and thousands of hours churning out visually appealing machines, only to be torn to pieces and then re-built in time for the next custom show. Also, like it as not, they don’t run, or can’t because they have sixty-nine carat gold plate on the rear sprocket or something.
But Vince’s bike ran, and it ran well. He remembered how his old CX500 used to bounce and weave along this, his favourite stretch of road. Even the Suzuki GS750 seemed to wallow above eighty on these curves. But his Vincent, that he was riding now, seemed to eat potholes and white lines as though it were stood still on a bowling green. Most bikes seemed like a roller-coaster on speed compared to this machine.
And what a machine it was. A speed machine, an accelerating machine, an enthusiast’s machine, a reliable machine…? Vince pondered on this for a while as the shining black beauty purred slowly into town, the passers-by admiring the immaculate lines and enviously noticing the smug look of it’s pleased rider. The reliability, he thought, was probably the machine’s weakest point, although this would probably be complimenting it’s other features. The speed was electrifying, the finish superb, the handling perfect. Even the fuel consumption was favourable compared to the modern multis.
In reality, Vince thought, nothing should go wrong with his bike. After all he had built the engine and bike from scratch, so he knew it inside out. He remembered how his grandfather had nearly thrown out the old engine. Now neatly restored, painted black and brightly polished it looked like it had been brought just yesterday. It’s one-thousand cc’s of sheer muscle seemed to ooze character as it fired it’s cylinders in turn after every second lamppost on the pavement. Beautiful, Vince thought.
Up ahead were traffic lights. They were about forty yards away by now and Vince knew that if he opened the throttle the black sensation would roar easily through before the red, even if the amber showed up now, but he was in no hurry. Vince used to scream along at fifty or sixty in town on the Suzuki thinking he was a king, but on this machine he knew he was and therefore had no need to prove it. He casually glanced down at the large Smiths speedo and read twenty-seven miles an hour.
Sure enough the lights turned red and Vince pulled up resting his front wheel just short of the white line. The traffic system was a slow one so Vince knew he would be able to look around, revelling in the fame this bike seemed to bring him. When he stopped in the street it was almost as if every male over the age of fifty had owned one when they were young. So strange that there was only one other Vincent in the country now.
He noticed his reflection in the mirrored glass of a shop front, the bike’s weight resting gently on his left boot. Vince placed his right foot down and raised his left, seeing his reflection as though he were riding. He crouched low over the tank and smiled as he imagined Brands Hatch wind around in front of him, the chequered flag waving as he passed the finishing line well ahead of the competition.
Today however, the only competition was the buzzing RD250 that had pulled up right next to him.
The Yamaha was the usual two-fifty seen around suburban streets. Vince himself had owned something similar when he had started motorcycling just a few years ago. This model, being about two years old now, and obviously thrashed, was naturally tatty. The scratches, twisted footrests and bent handlebar levers seemed to compliment the Vincent perfectly.
The rider too was the standard eighteen-year old Vince had been three years back, with his painted polycarbonate hat and Foster-Grants. A wry smile told the message Vince was expecting. The rider rocked backwards and forwards revving his engine and grinning widely. This guy wanted a race.
Vince casually clicked the gear-lever into first and gave a quick blat of the motor to show the competition that he meant business. The revolutions died down to it’s normal thumping tick-over as he held in the clutch and watched the ominous red light.
The Yam owner was now sweating. He loved racing cars and bikes away from the lights and considered himself good at the ‘sport’. After all he had only been beaten once and that was because he had missed a gear. A criminal act in the unwritten law of street racing. And today he was challenging no ordinary Escort. This black monster next to him seemed to ooze power, even stood still. His eyes locked onto the lights, only blinking to remove the sweat gathering on his eyelids.
Suddenly the red light was joined by the amber. The Yamaha owner dropped his clutch holding five-thousand revs. The front wheel pawed the air, nearly sending the rider off the back. Seven-thousand on the clock and the rider plucked his next gear from the box, the front wheel again falling to the ground. Another seven-thousand was showing and again the front tyre was losing traction with the tarmac as the rider flicked a higher ratio into operation in a frantic dash for victory.
The red and amber had now dissolved and had been replaced by green and Vince knew he could now start. He had not been tempted to jump the lights with his opponent, after all he did have the capacity advantage over the Yamaha. He noticed that the other rider was across the other side of the junction and was only about fifty yards away from the narrowing gap, caused by the parked cars, which they were racing for.
The huge motor only showed two-and-a-half thousand on the tachometer when he slipped the light clutch away from the left handlebar. He knew that he had over seventy miles an hour in this gear so it was now down to his right hand. Vince preferred to release clutches gently and let the motor do the work rather than lose valuable forward motion trying to control senseless wheelies.
The tachometer was showing four thousand now and the scorching black rubber of the rear tyre was acting like a clutch as a plume of white smoke emitted from the back. Vince leaned forward onto his forearms to prevent the aerobatics of the front end and watched as the little Yamaha appeared to be coming back towards him.
It was now only twenty yards to that gap and the Yam had the best line, with the rider obviously happy as he seemed well ahead. Having jumped the lights and gained that extra twenty or thirty yards he was confident that it would take something pretty special to beat him past that red Cortina parked ahead. The juggernaut approaching the other way prevented any alternative route and as his front wheel was way ahead of any competition, which was the only thing that mattered, he guessed that the other rider was braking fiercely.
The competition, however, was something pretty special and Vince wasn’t going to loose easily. The gap may have been only fifteen yards away and they may have been travelling well above fifty by now but Vince knew that his bike only needed a gap of about nine feet to get through and saw that his front wheel was in line with the Yamaha’s rear and he was accelerating like he had never experienced before.
With the throttle against the stop and the motor now screaming in delight he was being physically stretched by the power. His arms seemed to be pulling from their sockets and his eyes watered with the pain at the tremendous G-force, pushing him against the moulded seat hump.
The bikes were level now and the red Cortina seemed all too near. With his acceleration Vince knew that if he were to back off now he would have no time to stop or swerve. It was now or never. His right hand forced the throttle harder against it’s stop causing the rubber to twist painfully, as the bikes edged closer together, the gap drawing nearer. Now even the Vincent’s front end lifted as the two battled for first place.
Luckily for Vince his front wheel was now ahead, but the Cortina was very close, however, rules are rules and he decided to swerve towards the gap, just missing the car by a few inches. The Yamaha rider sensed this and threw his right fist forward, shutting off the throttle and grabbing the brake lever. The tiny black caliper clutched it’s shining disc and sent a thin black run of rubber down the tarmac.
Vince had won, but only just.
Further on down the road the mighty Vincent pulled up at another set of traffic lights. It burbled away on tick-over as it’s last competitor silently drew up next to it.
Vince looked at the Yamaha’s owner and smiled confidently. The rider gave a return nod.
“Thanks.” Replied Vince.
“Quick…” he continued “…isn’t it?”
“Quick enough.” Confirmed Vince.
“What is it?” Asked the Yam owner, as the lights turned to green.
“A dream come true.” Vince replied, dumping the clutch. The mighty motor again responded and he roared off into the distance…
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Fiction section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 17 Aug 2018
Written in the early eighties but first published in Mar 2010
The first half written in 1982 for an article in Southampton and District Motorcycle Club magazine under the title The Ultimate Ride with the remaining penned to fit the requirements of Bike magazine, but sadly never published meaning the writer had to get a proper job
At the time of writing the Southampton and District Motorcycle Club was based in Woodside Avenue in Eastleigh. It can now be found via sdmcc.net
The header photograph shows the author squatting next to an immaculate Vincent Rapide motorcycle. The Rapide was produced between 1936 and 1955 and remains a collectable bike. The more famous, faster Black Shadow model had black enamelled engine casings. The photo was taken by the author’s wife in Skegness in April 1996
The sketch was drawn by the author to demonstrate the bike envisaged in the story. It was influenced by the Vincent Black Shadow motorcycle’s V-twin motor sat in a frame similar to the eighties Moto-Martin CBX1000. Also there is just a bit of Ogri in it. Orgi was a cartoon character drawn by Paul Sample for Bike Magazine between 1972 and 2009. Ogri actually rode a Norvin, a Vincent engined Norton café racer. Actually he didn’t as he was just an ink drawn character. Ogri continued in motorcycle magazine Back Street Heroes until 2012
The following story idea was commenced in the early eighties and then subsequently uploaded to the vinceunlimited website. It is currently incomplete but if you wish to read the rest let me know and I’ll cut out some more words from my dictionary and thesarus.
Vision Of Death
A Novelette Fiction By Vince written in the early eighties
I can’t remember why we were there, but we were and that was all that mattered at this moment in time. Across the table all I saw was his cold, calm face and crossed arms. He looked so easy, so relaxed, although I figured this must be an act as I myself was trying to portray an air of calmness even though deep inside I trembled.
On the table were just three objects. The candle lighting his sinister features, the Magnum and a lethal bronzed bullet, shining in the eerie flickering light. Silent. Deadly.
His hand moved slowly towards the gun and raised it pointing in my direction and with a quick and near professional flick of his wrist released the magazine chamber. His other hand, now in view, picked up the bronzed cartridge and held it tantalisingly upright by the base for what seemed like several seconds.
I could now feel my collectiveness deteriorating as a bead of sweat trickled slowly down my forehead lodging itself neatly in my left eyebrow. His eyes, however, showed no sign of detecting this as he stared singularly at the capsule of death in his left hand. I longed for just one brief moment, just one millisecond of freedom from his icy presence to hide my fears.
Finally he looked up again into my eyes and slid the bullet gently into the cold steel chamber. My eyes couldn’t be taken from that small dark hole, the daunting prospect that next time the chamber was emptying I could be at the receiving end.
He placed the weapon back on the table, this time with it’s carved wooden handle nearest to me. He refolded his arms and cautiously smiled, although this revealed a weakness as I noticed the far corner of his lips quivering nervously. This released a portion of my own anxiety as I relaxed back slightly into the chair. Now it was my move.
I placed my hand gently over the gun’s handle and paused a moment. I had the upper hand now and was determined to make the most of my time. I discounted a smile though to ensure no lip tremble disturbed my lines.
I lifted the Magnum, suddenly realising it was no toy. It’s metallic weight seemed reluctant to allow me to lift it from the table. A strange sense of scalding seemed to burn my palms as I considered it’s deadliness, which made my fingers sticky with sweat. I raised the gun, pointing the barrel at my adversary, my index finger resting gently on the cold trigger. I felt so powerful.
To be continued…
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Fiction section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 14 Aug 2018
Written in the early eighties but first published in Mar 2010
The chances are that unless you are on holiday, you live on a ship or are currently slumming it in what the Americans call an “ArrVee” the view is exactly the same as the one you had yesterday. And the day before.
And unless you are about to complete a property transaction or do a moonlight flit from the landlord it will be the same again tomorrow.
I for one find all that a bit monotonous.
And I won’t accept the changing patterns of trees in the winter/spring/summer/autumn argument. The trees never move and for my money offer less distraction than a city-scape skyline. At least with a city you may get the chance to live opposite a hospital nurses’ changing room during a curtain closing drought.
So I have devised a cunning way to relieve the monotony. Let’s all share our views.
I propose that all windows be replaced with a big LCD screen backing onto a networked webcam.
Tomorrow I could be looking out of your lounge window and you could be looking out of mine. And noting that Mrs Miggins across the road has just painted her front door green.
Obviously certain outlooks will be of more interest than others. I’ve seen several windows that back onto the neighbours wall and others with fine vistas.
Which gives me the name. Let’s call this ‘Windows replaced by Vista’.
Although I may need to do some research to see if this infringes any patented trademarks first.
Perhaps we could use a system where we state the number of viewing options available. I have 7 windows in my house so I could call my place Windows 7. You see Windows 7 really is my idea.
The system could even be monetised with the most popular views commanding high viewing figures and attracting ad breaks.
And guess which curtain drought outlook would be the most popular?
There are a couple of drawbacks.
In winter you may switch to a nice sunny outlook only to have your Hawaiian shirt thoroughly dampened when you step out into the real world’s shivering rain.
And, being the twenty-first century all soothsayers will immediately rally around the old chestnut of energy usage. After all these screens would use more energy than a simple plate of glass.
But there is a response. Ask yourself how a lot of the heat escapes from a well insulated property – through the glazing. And with this system all windows will be bricked up and insulated.
I foresee that one day you will be able to say “That outlook is so much more improved”.
And that’s no bad thing.
However that potential trademark is also being considered.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Ideas section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 10 Aug 2018 First published in Mar 2010
Windows Vista is the name of Microsoft’s computer operating software released in 2007 Windows 7 is the name of Microsoft’s computer operating software released in 2009
When Windows 7 was released Microsoft updated their ‘I’m a PC’ advertising campaign, which had attempted to counter the Apple ‘Get a Mac’ advertising campaign, using the tag line “I’m a PC and Windows 7 was my idea” Microsoft’s Outlook, a personal information manager, incorporating email, was initially released in 1992 and has since had many improvements made up to it’s current version
One of the most famous incidents from western history is the shooting of American President John F. Kennedy. Few reasonably educated people in the English speaking world would not be aware of some of the facts around this moment. It might just be that it was in the sixties, the assassinated President was travelling in a motorcade, Lee Harvey Oswald was the shooter, there are loads of conspiracy theories and the shot came from a repository.
I didn’t fact check these six commonly known things stated above. Some may be incorrect. For instance was it the sixties? Is Oswald spelt correctly? That’s not important right now. What I want to highlight is two uncommonly used words in this short summation – Motorcade and repository. Both first heard by my young ears around the time it happened and both rarely used to this date.
I’ve never really questioned the term motorcade. Probably because it immediately seemed to describe the line of vehicles involved. Possibly because even today it is used to describe an American Presidential car outing. The British Prime Minister, for instance, never seems to get reported as travelling in a motorcade. Even though it’s often technically true.
The other newly discovered word to my young ears was repository.
What is a repository a small child might ask? A library is the short answer. So why not say library then was the response?
Presumably because if it was a library a chap firing off a high powered firearm would have elicited a cacophony of ‘shhhhhs’ from other users delivered in that passive aggressive way only librarians and library users can achieve.
However the classic response to a small child’s follow up question in those days would have been ‘because it is’ or more likely please accept this clip around the ear as a kindly note to advise you will find out when you are older and stop bothering me now, I am an adult and you are irrelevant.
I can’t recall which type of reasoned explanation was used at the time but I never really questioned the word again as it never comes up in any context, except in reference to the Dallas incident mentioned above. But it was a key memorable fact about the Texas story that still sticks today.
My website is a repository.
That’s not actually an analogy. It’s a fact. If I were to liken it to a library it would only be analogous. Described as a library it may make sense to some. It contains my web content. It has clearly marked sections for those who seek specialist subjects. It is arranged logically and is open to all. But technically it is an information repository. But it is an incomplete one because at present it is still being stockpiled. And only currently about two-thirds filled with historic content. Mainly the content from previous website iterations between 2003 and early 2010.
You may note at the bottom of this article in my website the version number is 5.166. This is the one-hundred and sixty-sixth update to the fifth version of my website. Quite a lot of updates you might think. And you would be right. After I hand-coded and uploaded the current edition of my site I have made 166 new pieces of content. Meaning the repository now contains well over 120 separate pages, and more than 40 individual blog posts. All in HTML5 and linked via CSS styling cues.
This may seem a lot of work and it was but also consider I have done the exact same but in mobile specific form so those numbers can be doubled. In other words over 320 pages have been written or updated.
And in each case every article or blog post is first trailed on the homepage as well as being added to it’s final resting place. So the total number of alterations is more like over 640.
But there’s more. In every instance I consider whether an article may need replicating in a specialist place.
For instance this post will be added to the homepage as usual, plus added to the Blog posts where it shall remain but then also added to both the Geek and Web sections for those who seek such specialist knowledge. Then I’ll update the vSearch page so it can be found. This type of procedure is common and sometimes articles get posted in six or seven places so the repository can be simply navigated.
And all that excludes the many times I have checked my updates only to find link errors, grammatical changes required or just additional content refreshing requirements, such as the updates to the Sketches page I posted at the same time as this article.
I estimate that I have written near to 1500 page updates. And I am only two thirds the way through this initial exercise. And when all this is complete I shall continue to add to the stock with exclusively new content.
Quite a repository. And sadly like all repositories it is rarely visited. However, it is always open, it is free to enter and you are most welcome to browse.
And just like the infamous JFK incident, you can be sure there is more of this story to come.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Blog, Geek and Web sections of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 6 Aug 2018 The assassination of President John F. Kennedy was carried out by Lee Harvey Oswald on 22 November 1963 in Dallas, Texas. He fired shots from the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository at the presidential motorcade. Many people dispute these facts
A recent but enthusiastic convert to the Macintosh stable I am now using my ninth Apple product [excluding accessories] and each has been truly Golden Delicious.
Initially, like many, I was sceptical about plunging headlong into the orchard but chance brought me into the core and I have now nibbled away since 2007 on many wondrous devices.
It all started when I was redoing my office, as shown in the photograph. A bedroom was converted to accommodate my electronic needs and desires both personally and officially and the centrepiece was to be a good looking computer.
Previous PC setups had included various CPUs and screens and experience had taught me that the CPU and displays became obsolete at differing times. This reinforced the notion that PC separates were the way to go. So a search was on to find a compact CPU and great looking screen.
The screen was the stumbling block. All were dull, black and uninteresting but then I saw the light. It came shining in when Apple opened my local Apple Store and nestling within was this magnificent looking 23” widescreen Cinema Display.
It clearly had my name on it so I grabbed copies of all the Mac publications I was able to carry and became convinced I could become one of the enlightened.
I wasn’t quite brave enough to go for the full all-in-one iMac and to be honest wasn’t keen on the over-square design at the time.
I considered a Mac Pro but chose a Mac Mini as a ‘starter’ kit, just in case I was actually a PC.
Since then more AM products have followed including an iPod, a replacement Mac Mini, an Apple TV and a MacBook plus countless leads, docks, accessories and software. So far…
And that’s not mentioning the phenomenally successful iPhone with sales so high there is no more space off the chart. I’ve played my part and had three iterations of these.
Mac Versus The Opposition?
Being such a new found fan of Apple products I have been musing a way of describing how a Mac computer differs from a industry-standard PC and I think the answer lies in a car washing analogy.
The PC – This is the jet wash – It takes an awful lot of effort and skill is needed to get a satisfactory result. It is best if you can get constant assistance from someone who knows what they are doing. Unfortunately it will cause damage unless care is taken all the time.
The Mac – This is the car wash – It is simple to use but more expensive. It does all the work for you using simple logical commands. It is only likely to cause damage if the basics like putting your aerial down are ignored. You come away thinking that the car wash has actually been the clever one, as opposed to yourself.
The Linux – The bucket and sponge option. Far too much effort and I’m not that poor any more.
Mini Mark 1
Like all Austin, BMW and Mac people I am rather fond of my little Mini. It’s cute dimensions, uncluttered look, surprisingly good for its size performance and its ‘actually runs a full Macintosh OS’ qualifications compel you to love it.
I chose the Intel Core 2 Duo driven 2.0GHz stock model with 2Gb 667MHz DDR2 SDRAM and a 160Gb hard disk. Disappointingly it shipped with the new Leopard software as I am rather fond of Tigers but it also sported the full Mac iLife 08 Suite which I bolstered with an 08 version of iWork to reinforce the official view that it was a real business purchase.
Being bereft of all accessories I coupled it to the 23” Apple Cinema Display that initiated the purchase and allowed me to see what was going on and a wireless keyboard and mouse to actually do some going on.
Backup is as important to a Mac-Man as it is to a lowly PCer so I accompanied my Mini with a matching Iomega MiniMax MMHD, a 500GB USB/Firewire 400 back-up drive. The inbuilt Time Machine software does all the difficult bits of coordination between the two.
Becoming A User
Transgressing from the dark side of PC usering to become an Apple Fan-Boy is not all plain sailing.
For instance the Mini does not have a built in camera and Apple had discontinued it’s sideline in accessory visionary devices by dumping the popular iSight Camera. However I had a smart looking Logitech QuickCam Fusion which had temporarily sat atop my crusty old laptop and once allowed me to Skype my friend in Australia.
Unfortunately the model was shown as incompatible with fruit based CPUs so I had to butcher a way round this, which actually proved to be pretty easy using a software application called Macam, even if the fancy zoom and lets pretend I’m a dinosaur effects won’t work.
I also had to learn the Mac way of doing things and I called on many a magazine article and user book to work out how to download, mount applications and find out how to do basic spreadsheet stuff with all the pretty and ultimately logical software. In fact if anyone ever asks the most compelling reason to switch to Macs I now answer; “Apart from the fact that I never have to use anti-virus programmes, ever, I also have never downloaded a driver. If my Mac links to a printer it will just work.”
I have also become accustomed to upgrading to the latest software as it comes out. This is a Mac user trait and thankfully Apple, unlike Microsoft, do not feel the need to totally fleece their customers each time this happens.
Not that it is all cheap. No Apple products are. Quality comes at a cost and you don’t enter the world without generous pockatage. However, the process all feels more silk than fleece.
Mini Mark 2
In time I decided that I wanted a speedier, faster Mac. My original Mini had proved I could be an Apple user but the speed limitations hindered use of some of the more powerful software, particularly the inbuilt music creator, Garageband.
I chose the simple option of buying a replacement model from the new 2009 range Apple conveniently launched for me and traded up to a Intel Core 2 Duo driven 2.26GHz stock model with 4Gb 1067MHz DDR3 SDRAM and a 320Gb hard disk. With twice the RAM, twice the disk and 1.599700149925037 times the speed I am now a well content Leporidae.
But the road to change wasn’t as smooth as the sales pitch might think.
Apple make migration from one machine to another a pretty simple step. It’s all handled pretty automatically, like most Apple stuff, using easy to use software. All I had to do was connect old and new, press a couple of buttons and hey presto, a new Mac looking somewhat disappointedly exactly the same as the old one.
What the instructions failed to foresee though was each machine had to be attached to something to allow said buttons to be pressed. I only invested in a new Mini [CPU] and therefore only had the one keyboard. My misses clears extraneous clutter like a supercharged Wall-E and all spare keyboards had been long been filed away in the big grey receptacle. However, Apple was at hand and my new cutsey box lost it’s virginity to the Time-Machine backup from the MiniMax.
Having an Intel engine allows me to run [spit] Windows on my Mac and my preferred method of doing this is via Sun’s VirtualBox and XP.
This allows me to emulate the wondrous old habits of virus protection, Windows security updates and Internet Explorer whenever I get the need.
For a long time I waited impatiently for Apple to release their much anticipated iPad tablet. I figured that such a device was the answer to pitter pattering away whilst watching TV.
However in frustration of their delay and with need to get on with this website before Alzheimers set in I decided to get a MacBook instead.
Purchased in December 2009 it is a factory-standard unibody white unit boasting an Intel 2.26GHz Core 2 Duo and has 2GB of 1067MHz DDR3 RAM, close to its 250GB drive, whilst glistening through a 13” glossy screen.
If you are reading this [in 2009] it clearly works.
Non Fruit Based Electronica
Many PC based computers have passed before my hands but only a few remain, partly because of the needs of friends and family, partly because of the calling of eBay but mostly because, as discussed above, the misses doesn’t like keeping clutter.
Not that any of these outdated machines were rare enough to be worthwhile now, even the very first ex-work behemoth running CP/M on a green-black screen. These were the days of command lines, 5.25” floppies and frustration.
My first real PC was a metal cased, custom built desktop of dubious heritage containing both 5.25” and [new] 3.5” floppy drives.
This was superseded by a much more powerful [in the sense that a beetle is more powerful than an ant] Packard Bell tower case which along with the CRT monitor, keyboard, mouse, printer and Yamaha speakers filled my desk space completely.
In between times I discovered the joy of laptop computing and my first foray into this was in 1999 when I invested in a Dell Inspiron 15” primarily for work use. This was superseded by the Novatech [see below], which I still own.
I also recently purchased a Dell Mini Netbook, primarily to ensure I had a reliable Windows based machine because some stupid outlets still insist on good old XP [also, see below, but this time a bit further down].
My now outdated Windows based laptop is a Novatech Soprano.
It is very heavy for a portable, more of a movable unit boasting super fast 3.07GHz HT Intel Pentium 4 running on 512Mb RAM. Although now slow compared to the multi-core processor machines. Storage is a [not nearly as gigantic as it used to feel] 60Gb hard drive and the world is accessed via the built in 56k modem.
I run Micro-pathetic XP Professional and display on the built in 64Mb 15″ TFT LCD. Audio is supplied by two small shrill insects inside somewhere that like to go bleep very loudly at times.
You can see a photo of this by looking at my article about my Computers in 2003, imaginatively called Computers October 2003.
The Dell Mini 10 was, as alluded to earlier, purchased as an insurance against the failure of the Novatech.
In particular I have a computer based HiFi processor which insists on getting its updates via an XP interface. The quality of the processor is such that it warranted such an acquisition but the Mini is a useful tool for quick and dirty Internet Explorer [spit] web-use such as insisted by certain work clients [after the obligatory updates and virus protection refreshing].
The Mini 10 sports, if that is not over-egging the cake, an Intel Atom Z530 1.6GHz motor driving a 1Gb RAM with 160Gb HD on tap.
A Hewlett [I will take over your system if it’s the last thing I do] Puckhard HP Photosmart C6180 All-in-One, which is a basic lie as there are absolutely loads of things it doesn’t do.
It does do however boast WiFi operation, full colour printing based on the usual sell your mortgage ink supplies, photocopying, after a fuss and only via the website remote scanning and hope it works facsimile functions.
It was chosen as it was the least looking like, but still quite like a, bread bin model.
BT provide my WiFi needs via a snazzy HomeHub 2. This dust collecting device spits out up to N grade WiFi and acts as a router as well.
It could cope with up to 8Mb but BT tell me that my home is only worth 6Mb. Which would be OK if the speed tests showed more than the usual 3000 to 4000 kbits/s down and about 250-300 kbits/s up.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Computers section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 3 Aug 2018
Written and First Published: Version 3.0 Mar 2010
The first image is of the author’s converted bedroom Apple Mac set up showing the matching wallpaper and curtains, the dark wood office style furniture complimenting the wardrobe doors, the black leather executive swivel chair and the neat rows of lever arch file boxes. The computer set up is dominated by the 23 inch Apple Cinema display, with a MacMini on top of a matching back-up drive sat to the right and a Hewlett Packard all-in-one printer to the left. Also seen is an optical mouse, small stereo speakers, an iPod Classic a BT Homehub and an underdesk bass sub-woofer. The image was taken by the author, in summer 2008 and was added in Version 3.0 Mar 2010
The second image is of the author’s second MacMini, the MacMini 2, sat on top of a matching Iomega back up drive. The attached Firewire connector cable was removed but still held its original position. It was taken by the author in Jul 2009 and first added in the website in Version 3.0 Mar 2010
The third image shows a composite of photographs taken by the author in 2009 when my original MacMini was taken apart to be destroyed. The montage was first added to the website in Version 3.0 Mar 2010
The fourth image is of the author’s two home laptops, a MacBook and Dell Mini 10 Notebook, taken in Mar 2010 and first added to the website, Version 3.0, during the same month
The final image is of the author’s Dell Inspiron Mini 10 Notebook, taken in May 2011, first added on 3 Aug 2018
Yesterday [27 Jan 2010] Apple finally launched their much anticipated iPad and I have been lapping up every Tweet, blog and story about the thing.
One reason for the interest, other than my confirmed fanboy status, is that for months I seriously considered that such a product may well be the answer to my personal electronic needs. However, I recently saw sense and avoided waiting for a 1.0 version of an untried, theoretical device, with no known cost and purchased instead a MacBook. I think my decision may be correct.
The iPad is gorgeous, but not available for six months, still uncertain in UK price and may not actually do all I want it to do. No-one has mentioned working with iWeb yet, my primary reason for a hand held device.
However, as Tweeted today, I think there is a market for this that is as yet untapped. The elderly.
Or rather the non-tech, reasonably wealthy elderly who have yet to get a computer or on line. I’m thinking my in-laws here.
This product is designed for my father-in-law. The standalone design meaning no awkward telephone connections. The user friendly intuitive GUI meaning no keyboard/mouse learning. The inbuilt simple bookstore. The scalable text for failing eyesight. I’m convinced. He has admired my iPhone for some time and I am going to recommend this iPad to him.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Computers section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 31 Jul 2018 From an entry in MyDiary dated 28 Jan 2010
First published in the vinceunlimited.co.uk website in Mar 2010
I did buy an iPad, but not until the second version, the iPad 2 3G and WiFi 64Gb model in Nov 2011 My father-in-law did eventually get an iPad, having never owned a computer. I gave him my second iPad, the Air 2 WiFi only 128Gb model, in Sep 2016. He was then 90 years old and still uses it so my original thoughts in 2010 about suitability for this sector are fully validated
Had a late lunch with the wife’s family to celebrate my father-in-law’s birthday.
We made our now seemingly monotonously regular trip to The Otter at Otterborne.
Personally I always see a typically dingily lit Public House with grimy floor and facilities and a smattering of unwelcoming angry looking bar locals. However, the in-laws only see the back restaurant and seem to like the food.
Here the Otter does well and surprisingly serves a quite exotic menu.
Often I’ll order the Ostrich Steak but like so many other things today this was off the menu.
The waitress offered kangaroo, which I jumped at.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Food section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 30 Jul 2018 From an entry in MyDiary dated 18 Jan 2010
First published in the vinceunlimited.co.uk website in Mar 2010
Twitter, the online micro blogging service, was launched in July 2006 and I joined at the beginning of 2009. It was only just starting to grow and my membership number suggests just under 19m others got there before me. If you think that makes me a late starter consider that if you joined today you would be getting involved with something that [by Oct 2017] over 330 million have tried.
I recall that at the time the service felt fresh and new, lacking the cynicism and fame seeking of today’s model. When I signed up I did not personally know anyone who used the site and on many occasions I was asked what it was about and why they should bother.
In those early days it seemed users were treated based on their own content and not their ability to retweet the content from others or by just simply being a celebrity in other fields. You had to work to get a following. Just being a ‘someone’ and posting a picture of your breakfast or requoting a glib phrase in a fancy font wouldn’t garner appreciation.
As a result I taught myself how to entertain and grow a following. You will also note that I tried out different and novel ways to use the platform, although the increased growth in people using the platform and the ever growing number of celebrities opening accounts in the year meant that the original user base was quickly being sidelined and I found difficulty getting my own voice heard.
I felt proud of the contribution I made and wrote a story of my 2009 content postings. I built the narrative to explain to non-service users why I had posted certain contemporaneous comments. Although fairly comprehensive it is not a complete reposting of every Tweet that year. You will need to visit my @vinceunlimited Twitter Feed to get absolutely everything.
Finally, for those without the time on their hands to read the whole story and just like the best of the best I have curated this list of my top ten best Tweets of 2009. Based on my personal choice, not based on views, likes, comments or retweets. They are in no significant order other than date of posting.
Generally I’m a fan of predictive text. However, sometimes my worms come out all fanny and change the moaning completely
Damn. Just broke my Crystal Ball. It fell off the table. I didn’t see that coming
I said “Whats that?” She said “Its an age spot.” I said “Just the one?” It’s suddenly more frosty this morning
The instructions read ‘Store in a cool place’. Which explains why I was trying to get into Samuel Jackson’s movie trailor
Decided to form a band. Our unique theme will be that we’ll perform in cake shops. I guarantee that in five years we’ll be huge
My brother told me he is using chip fat to power his old diesel car. Reckons he gets 73 miles per potato
Male Polar Bear asks his girlfriend to wear heavy make up just for a change. She replies ‘I’m not pandering to you.’
They asked whether the apartment I rent out came with Sky. I said yes. Big blue thing just above the roof
…Sado-masochists Beat Themselves Into Second Place In Online Poll
I tried to get though the Tile Discount Store door but they had reduced it by 50%
Have I picked the ten best? If you want to know the full and comprehensive story of my Tweets in 2009 go to my website at vinceunlimited.co.uk/twitter2009.htm or if you are using a mobile device try vinceunlimited.co.uk/twitter2009m.htm
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Twitter section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 27 Jul 2018
Tweets First published in Twitter during 2009
I live in suburbia. Not a town called suburbia but a good facsimile of it.
It is a mid-eighties detached property built using the standard UK model with many featuring that most essential of British faux Victoriana features – The fireplace.
This ancient Dickensian accessory is thankfully rarely used. Unfortunately, being Christmas, many fools succumb to the lure of a smoky hellhole and fire up their soot inducing possession.
As a result my clean white windowsills are now peppered with smut. And frankly the only thing I like peppered that way is my late night TV.
I’m definitely going to move this year.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Blog section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 25 Jul 2018
Written as a MyDiary entry on 26 Dec 2009
First published in Version 3.0 in Mar 2010
The photograph shows the author’s fireplace, taken around 2005 and was first added in Version 3.0 Mar 2010
Today I am working from home. No, really, I’m at home and working. I’m not just messing about on my computer. It’s real work.
I know it’s work because I have to open an Excel spreadsheet. As usual, it is a complex, multi-formatted workbook with SUBTOTAL functions and my Mac’s pretty little spreadsheet, Numbers, does not seem to support these professional tools.
As a result I have had to install Sun’s VirtualBox which will allow me to load in my copy of Windows XP and the MS Office package on to my Mac.
I really do not want to do this, other than for the fascination, as it will be like fitting a Kia sunroof with ill fitting lock into my Jaguar.
The process involves adding Sun’s VirtualBox, Microsoft’s XP, the XP SP2 disc, MS Office 97 Suite [I can’t afford the extortionately priced upgrade, alright], adding AVG virus protection, then running several dozen Windows Updates, each of which wants to have its very own restart.
I will then be able to fire up the Excel sheet.
All of which is very time consuming and will mean I won’t be finishing early today.
Despite working from home.
Which I am.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Blog , Software and Worker sections of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 19 Jul 2018
First published on 27 Nov 2009
I’m in the process of readying the next update to my vinceunlimited website.
To be honest I’ve been in this process for some time.
I recently made a decision to abandon the plan to hand code a replacement and instead rely on the built in iWeb application that came with my Apple software, despite all it’s limitations such as lack of meta tagging, inability to child page and inability to include the basic widgets on non-Apple standard servers etc.
I deduced that it really is content that matters.
Thankfully, I have now discovered I can quickly copy paste content from my current version so I do not need to retype all the 120 pages of content.
However, having the site on the operating table and not up and running means that days like today frustrate me as a great story came out about the first female Red Arrows pilot.
The scope for a playful blog was hardly satisfied by my Tweet entry suggesting all displays would now run at precisely five past three to allow for a quick lipstick fix.
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Blog and Geek sections of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 18 Jul 2018
First published on 12 Nov 2009
The photograph shows the arrival of a nine-plane Red Arrows display over Bournemouth in August 2009. I took the picture timed to show the exact time of arrival as my wife waited patiently for the start of the display
As if I haven’t got enough places to write things down – my blog, Facebook, Twitter. I couldn’t resist the idea of having a personal diary again so have downloaded the MyDiary App onto my iPhone.
I remember my last real journal was an A4 white bound affair with stupidly narrow lines. I wish I could read it now.
Today is Armistice Day. It is also my sister’s birthday. Mum and Dad nearly called her Poppy because of this but went with Dawn instead. Something about being born early in the day I understand. If all parents were like mine a quarter of all girls would be called Dawn.
The siren rang out at the Warminster site I was working at today at 11am to mark the two minute silence. I stood and thought about all the soldiers dying and being injured in Afghanistan. This solemn moment was only disturbed by me sneezing half way through.
Finally I started trading on iTrade today, another App on my iPhone. This little piece of fun allows a virtual trade using real stock values. I decided to reduce the confusion so decided to keep to stocks starting with the letter V. Egoistic or what?
Author: Vince Poynter
From the Blog section of the vinceunlimited.co.uk website dated 17 Jul 2018
First published on 11 Nov 2009