IN TWO weeks or less, a couple of friends from Swindon are to launch what they describe as a virtual car boot sale.

Ashley Clack and Peter Kidd, who already run a Facebook group called For Sale: Free And Wanted In Swindon, are setting up www.forsalefreeandwanted.co.uk.

Their plan is to enable more people than ever before to buy, sell and give away just about anything, completely free of fees.

I think it’s an absolutely great idea. Car boot sales of any kind are wonderful, and we should support them whenever we can.

My own recent acquisitions, as I’m on a bit of a health kick, include a fully functional exercise bike for a fiver and a pretty good Bullworker knock-off for a quid.

I started using them as soon as I got them home, and it was the first exercise I’d ever taken.

As luck would have it, at the next sale I managed to find a box of medical stuff, including a back brace, a couple of trusses, elasticated bandages, a rubber ring, a puncture repair kit, half a dozen tourniqets and an only slightly out-of-date tube of special cream for bringing down swellings.

Although real world car boot sales are great, there are times when even the most enthusiastic fan can’t get to the venue on time.

This is especially true if the sale in question happens to be on a weekend morning, when it’s sometimes difficult to attend on account of being unconscious, in protective custody or knowing we won’t be able to drive legally until some time after The X-Factor.

Having a virtual car boot sale at our disposal means such trivialities need never again prevent us from joining in the fun.

I just hope the new website includes some of the special things that make the atmosphere of ordinary boot sales so unique.

A good idea would be a special algorithm meaning anybody logging on to sell something, whether it’s a stuffed badger or a Breville sandwich toaster, would be immediately pounced on by over-eager blokes, obviously dealers, demanding to know whether they had any video games for sale.

This always happens when you set out your trestle table at a real-world boot sale; in fact, it sometimes happens before you even get out of your car.

Also in the interests of tradition, there must always be at least one stall selling nothing but strangely unworn vintage clothing that looks like the haul from a particularly ambitious 1980s shoplifting expedition.

Another should be selling 25,000 films on VHS tape, none of with is ever bought by anybody, and still another should be selling rusty and sinister old tools, of the kind used by old-time criminal gangs in business negotiations.

Finally, there should be a stall selling wretched old vinyl records of sound effects, 1960s lounge music and other things suitable only for the most desperate weirdos, as I’m always looking to expand my collection.