No you cynical bastards, it isn't the inside of some local boozer nor a photograph of my bed, nor indeed the kitchen, where I have had many a good experience. It is, as I prefer a more contemplative life, Southamptons 'Old Cemetery'.

Some may feel that with my advancing years I should aquaint myself with such places but I fear that I will add to Global warming when the time comes.

Dennypoos.....................an aesthete among the arseholes.

Perhaps my last post has caused upset to some folk but let me assure you that in no way did I wish not to.

I do however have a hankering to become the next Pontif. The thought of pilgrims traveling from all corners of the globe to kiss my ring fills me with joy.

Dennypoos........................an ambition too far?

Seen earlier today in St Denys, Southampton when I was returning from the garden centre.

It could of course be such a rarity for this company to have a sale that they wished to make sure everyone notices it.

Dennypoos................a damned fine horticulturalist as well.

Early morning listening to Radio Four has irked me yet again with the Roman Catholic church and to be honest, with all major religions.

The situation is that today the House of Commons starts to debate the controvertial 'Human embryology and genetic modification' bill. Bearing in mind the ramifications of what this is and where it could lead a full, comprehensive, debate is the minimum we should expect.

The Roman Catholic Church however, with a knee-jerk reaction worthy of the Daily Mail and its current bete noir,immigrants, has come out vehemently against this. I shouldn't really be suprised as they are against the use of condoms, which have a value in a Africa way above their initial use in the prevention af Aids.

The Church give the reason for this stance as being that this research is 'an affront to human dignity'. This research is at the moment primarily concerned with finding 'cures' for many degenerative diseases.

I put it to you that those unfortunate people with these diseases are surely suffering a real affront to their dignity. We could ask Stephen Hawking if having to be spoon fed and having someone wipe his arse maintains his human dignity and I think I know what his answer would be. My understanding is that embryos, of the type to be used in research have far less a sense of human dignity than some guy with a degenerative motor neurone disease.

The Roman Catholic Church should stick to what it knows best, that appparently being 'Kiddie Fiddling'

Dennypoos..................contention with a concience.

Bloody hell its a Sunday morning and instead of lazing in bed with the papers and a pot of coffee I'm being reminded of all sorts of things from the past. (and yes I know that to be reminded of things they have to be in the past, as its a tad difficult to be reminded of things that haven't happened).

Anyroad, I'm reading this book by Howard Jacobson called 'The Making of Henry'. It's about life and death and the bit in between, not in a maudlin kind of way more introspective. The erstwhile hero, Henry Nagel, is pondering what he should have on his gravestone and rues the fact that his first choice is, (because he feels he has been a failure) not appropriate.This being

HENRY NAGEL
NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION

Quite a neat one that and it reminded me of something my Dad told me years ago about one of my GreatGrandfathers.

Seems that around 1880 Samuel H. owned and ran a pub/hotel in Scunthorpe called 'THe Blue Bell'. I can remember this place from my youth and a right rough old dive it was. Shortly before it was knocked down to build a 'carbuncle' of a library I was asked by the local history society to photograph it extensively as it was Scunthorpe's oldest building.(those town planners must have had greasy palms). I was only thiteen at the time and to get photographs published in the local rag really was a feather in my precocious cap.

Samuel it seems had the same off-beat sense of humour as my father and myself and to this end donated quite heavily to a small church in a village near Louth. The upshot was that he was given a plot in the best place in the cemetery and could have what he wished inscribed on his gravestone. What he had carved on the stone was :

BENEATH THIS SOD LIES ANOTHER

Now that's what I call a sense of humour. I've never seen this but my father visited ages ago and took a photograph which I remember seeing.

Dennypoos................brightening everyones Sunday.

So its a Sunday morning and there I am in the figure hugging underware only, waiting for the kettle to boil for the first ( and probably best) cup of tea when I am reminded, apropos bugger all, about what my Physics teacher told me regarding steam.

What we see as steam gushing forth from the spout of a boiling kettle isn't steam at all but is in fact water vapour. Steam is an invisible gas and if you look at the boiling kettle's spout once again you will notice that there is a small gap between the spout and where the 'steam' seems to start. This area, where you can see nothing is the bit where the steam is. It then comes into contact with the colder air and condenses to form water vapour which we plebs misname 'steam'.

Dennypoos.............educational as hell, though a tad random.

So there I am walking back from having visited my friend (yes friend as in singular) when I popped into the local convenience store to see if they had overstocked on some items and were having to get rid at much reduced prices.

The only thing that tickled my fancy was a massive pot of double cream reduced from £1.65 down to .30p. Friends, it had to be done. I did have a little guilt pang as I am in the process of losing a little weight to halt the onset of man-boobs, but it was only a little pang.

So, what to do with the cream? Buy shit-loads of fruit from the market? It would be a possibility but what with being aware of the current 'Air miles' debate, perhaps not. My mind then was made up for me. Cake it had to be. A stonking Victoria sponge. Sandwiched with fresh cream, strawberry jam and fresh strawberries (early British) Whoo-hoo!

Just to show those doubting Thomas's that I not only talk the talk but also walk the walk, I show a photo of the finished sponge below.

Pity about the man-boobs though.

Of course what with 6oz butter, 6oz vanilla sugar 6oz flour and three duck eggs, not to mention half a pot of jam, this cake CAN be used as part of a calorie conrolled diet, but only if you eat nothing else for a fortnight.

Dennypoos.........A masterbaker as well as something which sound similar

It behove me, yesterday, having given the scullery maid the day off, to venture forth and purchase certain comestables.

To this end I sallied forthand went 'Up Shirley'.I feel it necessary to inform my reader/s that Shirley is a part of the throbbing metropolis that is Southampton. Shirley road being the way to Shirley (no really), is a long straight road in the Roman fashion and leads basically from nowhere to nowhere via a small shopping precinct.

Taking the air and looking around at the traders/ purchasers and beggars with scabby dogs I became aware of three young buggy pushing mothers moving down the street three abreast in much the same way as a Roman phalanx, other pedestrians (including myself) having to step into the road so that the fully warpainted trio could proceed unhindered.

Having purchased various items from messers J Sainsbury ( where do you get Lampreys nowadays?) I retraced my steps and noticed that the three slappers were doing the same, such that we would again meet.

I waited until they were only a couple of yards away and then put my bright orange carrier in the middle of the pavement and knelt down to re-tie my shoelace. This caused much consternation among the phalanx but buggies,slappers et all managed to circumvent yours truely eventualy.

It took most of the rest of the day to get rid of the smirk on my face. Indeed I not only smirked, I also chuckled and guffawed. The reaason for this being that the shoes that I 'tied' earlier were in fact slip-ons. See below for one of the actual shoes.

Dennypoos..........sometimes bested, NEVER beaten.

So thats all over and done with and Soton goes Tory.

Now heres a funny thing- The local Tory Toffs put up two 18yr olds as candidates in safe seats and the buggers got in. We are now to be governed locally by a Pizza Express assistant manager and a student at the local Tec.

Methinks suitable positions within the council should be that the student should be on the finance committee as his part time job at a petrol station should prove invaluable in money management. Pizza boy should be on the Highways committee as those mopeds find every hole in our roads and highways.

If you think I'm making this all up, I can reassure you that even at my most creative, I could not have come up with this one.

Dennypoos.......finally out-looned.

Ah dear readers, let us not be disheartened by the current brou-ha regarding the Olympics but rather enjoy the humour of the Chineese response to the events in London and Paris.

Dennypoos....................Cantankerous yet contentious.