The vinceunlimited Home Page

This is the home page of the vinceunlimited website. Below you will see various boxes containing great articles which will eventually migrate to other pages when more content is added. Please re-visit vinceunlimited.co.uk regularly to keep up to date with the latest posts.

During the rebuilding phase of this website you will be able to re-live how Vince developed all his glorious web content, with the oldest posts from version 1.00 being re-purposed first. For this reason, during the early stages, some links on this page may not be yet populated with content.

But more and more are being added every week. Some on a daily basis so check back regularly.

In time however...



Sweet Tea

A Refreshment Revolution

Photograph of the author in a suit serving tea to a table full of pensioners whilst some workers look on
One lump or two?

I love tea.

But then again I am supposed to. I am British.

I even wrote a prose on the subject.

Admittedly, the way I take it - black, weak and with one sugar is a little unconventional. If it is an inviting, red, watery, sweet liquid where you can clearly see the base of the cup I'm a happy bunny. The taste is so subtle, not disrupted by the artificial thickness of bovine mammoidal fluid.

I learnt to appreciate the subtleness of tea as a drink after a Japanese restaurant supplied me with green tea. An oriental fusion of hot water with bits of their garden chucked in it. Strange to the eye but welcome in the mouth. The Japenese have been drinking it like this for hundreds of years before they told me. How inconsiderate is that?

This ancient heritage can be easily traced because in essence tea has hardly changed since the first chinaman boiled a pan of water in autumn. That is why the British love it. We are superb at tradition. So much so the developments in tea distribution have been few and far between.

For a start there was the tea bag. A major revolution. And then. Well almost nothing.

Except tea bags of various shapes offering dubious claims to increase efficiency. I don't even want my flavour to flood out. I take it red ferchrissakes.

So when I came upon this idea I thought I could claim a lankmark. A revolution in tea making. A quantum step no less.

Will they name it after me?

Like all good ideas it is simple and comes from need.

Recently, I tried to make a cup of tea but there was no sugar. Someone had used the last of it and all that remained were a few grains amongst the coffee granules.

Little interim note, if you have coffee with sugar - put the sugar in first so the spoon doesn't contaminate the sugar. That coffee granule really spoils my weak tea. And I'm tea total, I never drink coffee.

Anyway, back to the case in point. I wanted a cup of tea and there was no sugar. I looked at the teabag. If only the sugar was already in it I thought.

One of those little lightbulb thingies illuminated over my head and there it was.

Tea bags, containing tea and sugar.

A marketing edge.

I even have the logo. "Sweet tea's the one for me".

Do you have the ability to turn this into a consumer product with me? Tea bag and sugar producers click away.

Tags


Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.039 15 Dec 2017
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
The tags were added in Version 5.039 15 Dec 2017, along with the image which depicts the author serving afternoon tea to some pensioners whlst some co-workers look on



Short Novel

A Novel By Vince

The shortest story of all time.

Written before Oct 2003

Photograph of a short two seater smart car in a bay marked short stay
Definitely short

The most difficult thing when writing a novel is to start.

And now that I have I can finish.

The end.


Please note that due to the brevity, this story is not embedded in a downloadable file, saved in .pdf file format or zipped. It is also not available in paperback or at any bookstore, whether good or not. No translations have been made and copies are not available. The author would not like to acknowledge or thank anyone for their assistance. Frankly, he's embarrassed at even being mentioned.

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Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.038 14 Dec 2017
Written before Oct 2003
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image was added in Version 5.038 14 Dec 2017 and depicts a smart ForTwo car in a short stay parking bay. It was taken by the author in Mar 2016



Set It Free

By Vince

Written in 1991

Forbidden Love


A photograph showing a spurting fountain and a duck in a park

Running my eyes up and down your body where my hands would rather be.
Feeling you close within my soul. Searching for that ecstasy.
Can't bide my time 'til the moments right.
Wanting to do, settling for sight.
Just take a chance on us and arouse this dynamite.

Stealing a glance or touching your hair. Remembering the look in your eyes.
Saying the things the way you do. Seeing through your little disguise.
You want me, I know that's true.
We are both planning what to do.
If only we could say the things that we both knew.

I want you and you know it.
Let me take you to a place we both can be.
Now's the time to show it.
Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
Set it free. Set it free.

Make special dreams come true tonight for all those tears you cried.
My hands are cold but your body's warm and time is on our side.
I'm aching in the places that you haven't got.
An' you are feeling deadly hot.
Let's entwine our loving and give it our best shot.

I want you and you know it.
Let me take you to a place we both can be.
Now's the time to show it.
Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
Set it free. Set it free.

The moment's good and we are sharing time, with blood gushing through my veins.
I'm reaching out to be within. You're holding on my reins.
You're searching out for a new height.
Breath so heavy but head is light.
Bodies a' shaking but our soles are in full flight.

Musical crescendo

We're feeling good with me in you. A moment true and pure.
With peacefulness embracing us. We're wanting for no more.
We've taken chances on or love attack.
Seen the light with no going back.
Broken down the barriers...
...Now we're on the right track.

I want you and you know it.
Let me take you to a place we both can be.
Now's the time to show it.
Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
Set it free. Set it free.

I want you and you know it.
Let me take you to a place we both can be.
Now's the time to show it.
Let's take the next stage and then you will see.
You can hold me. Let your spirit free.
Is this love? Or is it just our fantasy.
Set it free. Set it free.

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Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.037 13 Dec 2017
Lyrics written in 1991
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts a park scene gushing with symbolism and a good duck photographed by the author in Nov 2016. It was added, along with the tags in Version 5.037 dated 13 Dec 2017.



Racecar

By Vince

Written in 1994

Dedicated to Aryton Senna


Two detailed colourful model Formula 1 racing cars.  Jaguar Racing and BMW

It's a week since first they came to this place the circus claims.
Fired up passion growing strong. Now the climax won't be long.
Tens of thousands take their place to cheer on their chosen ace.
With ad. men selling top rate places to advertise their companies graces.

Pole man sits on the front row. Cameras focus on the show.
Eight hundred horses singing loud to a tune to please the crowd.
Noise increases on the grid as final checks reach fever pitch.
Greens release two dozen steeds and the rubber feet do bleed.

A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

The first corner is a squeeze. Only four escape the siege.
With the start again its all clear but the last ones pay so dear.
Fifteen straights without a change, then an oil seal makes a claim.
Gives a chance to two more aces, for three circuits changing places.

A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

More back markers, slipstreamed straights. Tyres and fuel in ten point eight.
Fastest lap is a new crown as the times come tumbling down.
Carbon fibre body getting light. Black and white comes into sight.
The gathered crowds roar out his name and another takes his fame.

A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

A multi-million-power game guarantees the man his fame.
Progress verses nerves so hard in the world of racing cars.

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Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.035 11 Dec 2017
Lyrics written in 1994
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts the author's two Formula 1 model racing cars. A 2002 season Jaguar Racing Team R3 and a BMW Williams FW24 photographed by the author in 2005. It was added, along with the tags in Version 5.035 dated 11 Dec 2017.



QE2 - Properly Crossing The Atlantic

A long story of a transatlantic cruise on board the magnificent Queen Elizabeth 2

Photograph down the side of the QE2 passing under Brooklyn Bridge

In some ways I felt a bit of a fraud.

It was only exceptional circumstances that led me to be able to savour the delights of crossing the Atlantic the 'proper way'. Sure I could afford it if I really wanted to, provided a few other luxuries were forsaken. And I had previously figured that one day I may part with the thousands needed to make the trip. But I would probably be a lot older. Much like the other guests queued in the bleak warehouse that Cunard seemed fit to welcome their clients onto the most sought after ship in the cruise business.

The few tri-colour balloons did nothing to enhance the surroundings and the shabby makeshift desks which processed us out of America seemed cheap and tatty. It was the last I would see of cheap and tatty for the next six days.

I had an opportunity to live on board the magnificent Queen Elizabeth 2 ocean liner for a week at a fraction of the normal cost and snapped at the chance with immense enthusiasm.

I would travel the four thousand miles from New York to her home town of Southampton living the millionaire dream


Continued...



The full article can be found here...


Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.034 8 Dec 2017
First Published: Version 1.00 Oct 2003
Images and tags added in Version 5.034 8 Dec 2017



Pony

By Vince

Written for a theatre group and performed live in 1992.


A photograph of two white ponies in a New Forest landscape

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a horse?
Standing in a field things could be worse.
With all your mates around you running fast,
And nowt to do all day but eat the grass.
I doubt if you would ever think you're lonely.
I wonder what it's like to be a pony.

Running on four legs across the dew.
Going to the blacksmith for your shoes.
Jumping over fences six feet tall.
Giving rides to children one and all.
If someone gave a wish, I couldn't lose.
A New Forest pony's what I'd choose.

Of course, there are some bad things that's not right.
Being branded on the bum I would not like.
Having only grass and hay to nibble on,
Oh, I would miss orange jelly and blancmange.
But all in all there really is no doubt,
A pony's what I'm really all about.

But unfortunately dreams don't all come true,
So here I am stood talking here to you.
I wish I were a pony. It's not fair.
But remember - Grass is always greener over there.
I shouldn't make a fuss or be so sad.
'Cause I'm a donkey and that isn't quite so bad.

Tags


Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.033 7 Dec 2017
Written and performed in 1992
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts two white ponies in a New Forest setting, taken by the author in May 2013. It was added, along with the tags, in Version 5.033 7 Dec 2017



Netsong

By Vince

Written in 1994

The future of mankind - Pre-cursor to a film (note: Written five years before The Matrix was released)


A photograph of Vince half covered by a photograph of a circuit board

First there was the wheel. And then came the car.
Now we live together in a little glass jar.
All connected in the Net. No individual memory.
Virtual reality is now actuality.

No one has to die. There's ROM for every soul.
Ten million to a chip and space for all to grow.
Walls can't be pulled down. A cryogenic dream.
Now we have anything we need. Everlastingly.

But all I want to do is die a man.
With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
All I want to do is lie alone,
Remembering a thousand years gone past.
Now that we can't ever break our walls,
We can never, ever end it all.
When you have anything you ever sought.
You seek nothing at all.
Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
Let me through the Net.
You gave us everything but death in the end.

With DNA replication as a daily norm.
Not one body since was ever truly born.
Sex with anyone, they really needn't know.
Flying, racing, killing in the sun, sea, sand or snow.

But all I want to do is die a man.
With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
All I want to do is lie alone,
Remembering a thousand years gone past.
Now that we can't ever break our walls,
We can never, ever end it all.
When you have anything you ever sought.
You seek nothing at all.
Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
Let me through the Net.
You gave us everything but death in the end.

We feel the world through all our memories,
And we can walk upon its surface if we please.
By using five sense suits that robots made,
We can still feel sunlight on us in a leafy glade.

But all I want to do is die a man.
With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
All I want to do is lie alone,
Remembering a thousand years gone past.
Now that we can't ever break our walls,
We can never, ever end it all.
When you have anything you ever sought.
You seek nothing at all.
Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
Let me through the Net.
You gave us everything but death in the end.

But all I want to do is die a man.
With my own feet walking through a dewy grass.
All I want to do is lie alone,
Remembering a thousand years gone past.
Now that we can't ever break our walls,
We can never, ever end it all.
When you have anything you ever sought.
You seek nothing at all.
Switch me off. Switch me off. Switch me off.
Let me through the Net.
You gave us everything but death in the end.

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Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.031 5 Dec 2017
Lyrics written in 1994
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts the author partly obscured by a circuit board and was created in October 2014. It was added, along with the tags in Version 5.031 dated 5 Dec 2017.



Word Minutes Template

Take a minute to read this

Image of a Windows XP screen with multiple windows open
There must some minutes in here somewhere

The thing with big software applications is that they are so well developed that they are often hard to fault.

Thousands of pounds and man-hours go into producing a top class product worthy of the fortune you have to spend on it.

Or rather thousands of dollars, because let's face it. The yanks have got it all tied up.

So when I came across a need for an elementary layout in a powerful popular application I was surprised by its omission.

Microsoft Word '97 doesn't have a standard template for minutes.

How did this occur? Surely when they were beta testing the product they would have held meetings.

And minuted them.

Have I discovered a secret here? Do they use Lotus Ami-Pro in Seattle? We should be told.

By the way, I have created a template myself. If you need a copy, send me a request.

And if Bill Gates is reading this. Get in touch. You'll find my hourly rate very reasonable. Compared to yours.

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Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.030 4 Dec 2017
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
The tags were added in Version 5.030 4 Dec 2017, along with the image which depicts a Windows XP desktop with multiple windows open



Lynda

By Vince

Written in 1982

Dedicated to a very special person in my life, who shall remain nameless.


A photograph of Lynda lying prone on top of a bed

You lay there, you're crying. I'm thinking 'bout my dying.
How I'll live 'til then and never see you gone.
You think I cannot love you. Though I serve you, always hold you.
And believe I'll stay around you for so long.

I never want you to leave me. I'm hoping this so dearly.
I fear the thought of being so alone.
And if I wake up and you've gone, you know it won't be so long,
'Fore I come running for you back upon the 'phone.

Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
I'll love you for one hundred thousand years.
And if you don't believe me Lynda, listen to my words.
And sense me when I wipe away your tears.
I'll serve you forever, and a day and another.
I'll always help you fight away your fears.
Oh Lynda, what can I say but I love you today,
And I'll love you through the months and through the years.

So hold your head up high and please don't make me cry.
'Cause I do when you are sad and you are lonely.
From the day that we first met you know I could have bet,
That you, my girl, would be my one and only.

Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
I'll love you for one hundred thousand years.
And if you don't believe me Lynda, listen to my words.
And sense me when I wipe away your tears.
I'll serve you forever, and a day and another.
I'll always help you fight away your fears.
Oh Lynda, what can I say but I love you today,
And I'll love you through the months and through the years.

You made my life worth living, your caring and your giving.
I'm never lonely now I must confess.
And if thanks were made in time you can have the rest of mine.
We'll live together now and forever more Lynda...
...I love you

Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
I'll love you for one hundred thousand years.
And if you don't believe me Lynda, listen to my words.
And sense me when I wipe away your tears.
I'll serve you forever, and a day and another.
I'll always help you fight away your fears.
Oh Lynda, what can I say but I love you today,
And I'll love you through the months and through the years.

Oh Lynda you're my love, my only dearest love.
Believe me now 'cause I mean it. I do...

Tags


Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.029 1 Dec 2017
Lyrics written in 1982
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003
The image depicts the eponymous subject and was taken in 1982. It was added, along with the tags in Version 5.029 1 Dec 2017.



Lottery

A personal view of the British Lottery system

Image of the author stood next to a Bentley Arnage
Typical pose of a lottery winner

I'm a big fan of the National Lottery.

Where else could such a simple act as shelling out a pound bring such substantial life altering consequences?

And I do not fall under the category of 'it won't change my life'. The hell it will. Big time.

Not that I have such a bad life, it is just that I do have an imagination and too much of my precious time is spent doing what I must, not what I would like. So winning would be a truly selfish act. Yes. Bring it on.

I will not try to convince you that I play the game for good causes. I have a strong belief that we should not need charity because need should be properly addressed through taxation. I have no issue with the government taking a percentage of the lottery cost for extra special causes as long as it stays that way. The causes should remain special, not need based. The organisers already make a tidy profit and the winnings seem to be sufficiently generous to tempt me.

The only downside I see is lack of integrity.

Virtually every week one, two or more people are made very wealthy. Camelot boast of the hundreds of millionaires made. But there is very little evidence.

Bentley Motors shares are not going through the roof and I, nor anyone I know, is personally aware of any big time winners, except the tiny minority of reprobates featured in the red top rags.

And don't tell me that mostly they want to keep their identities quiet or that they are all wrinklies who stuff it all under a mattress. If I won a jackpot everyone would know. The smile alone would give it away.

So, what stops the organiser saying there are four jackpot winners when there is only one? I am sure that the system is correctly monitored but the ease in which this could occur stirs the conspiracy side of my mind.

Camelot you need to demonstrate your propriety better.

Finally, a lottery tip.

Buy two sets of numbers.

The second set (providing they are a different set, numbski) will double your chances of winning. You could not improve on that.

Shelling out another quid will only increase your new chances by a third, a fourth will only increase your chance by another quarter, etc.

And don't play on Wednesday, you'll just bugger up my chances of a rollover from Saturday if you win.

P.S. Calling it Lotto doesn't fool anyone. It makes it sound cheap. Which, I guess is the idea. Trouble is, it is still a pound. And I, for one, do not want a 'cheap' win.

What I couldn't do with twenty million? Well, a better website for a start.

Tags


Author: Vince Poynter
Version 5.028 30 Nov 2017
First Published: Version 1.00 in Oct 2003 and reproduced here in full, unedited
This article was written when Camelot owned the rights to the British lottery. It has since been sold to some teachers in Canada [seriously, look it up] and because teachers are not well paid it now costs two quid a go. So now I cannot afford it.
The image depicts the author stood next to a Bentley Arnage in 2000 and was added in Version 5.028 30 Nov 2017