How To Survive Christmas by Nicholas E Evans

How To Survive Christmas - 10 easy steps

by Nicholas E Evans

 

Christmas is upon us once again. Oh god, it seems to come around every year.

 

 

 

 

You can almost feel the tension growing with the passing of every over hyped commercial day. This year Christmas is sponsored by...........Christmas. Every advert is selling it,  shops displaying it, songs jingling it, people talking about it. It's everywhere.

The pressure is so great. It's total madness. The most insane time of the year.  So to help you out a little, here is my top ten tips on  'how to survive the Christmas madness'.  Good luck. Yule need it (see what I did there?)

1 - Don't get sucked into the Build Up

It's like a year long wait to get laid. The pre match build up gets more hyperbole than a Royal Wedding. Everyone is whipped into a festive frenzy. We are fed an endless diet of adverts and Christmas messages. Most shops' start in the spring. Women the end of the summer and men, well we tend to start on Christmas Eve. Everyone has their own way of dealing with it. Don't get sucked into the build up. Go at your own pace, not the one The Hairy Bikers or Heston tells you.

2 - Ignore the Advertising

We are bombarded with constant messages. All selling us something on TV, magazines, social media, shops, billboards, Radio. The consumer brainwashing starts around November. Every TV break tries to sell you food that will make you obese, gifts that will make you in debt or booze that will make you arrested. Supermarkets are the worst, selling scenes of the perfect family xmas that just make you feel depressed, thinking, "Why haven't I got that?"

 

Of course in reality some people are either isolated or sit in silent resentment they have to spend it with their family. The perfect Christmas displayed in the adverts rarely exists. Watch out for their budget range designed for people on their own called, 'I can't believe I haven't Killed myself yet'. Tread carefully & avoid these horrific Supermarket compare and despair self pity fests.

Witnessing endless repeats of Ant and Dec staring over  xmas food from Morrisons like it's a naked woman with Custard oozing from her slit is enough to put you off. Besides they actually make the food look OK on TV when you know that in real life it's got the taste of Simon Cowell's sweaty ring piece after a hard shift judging the X factor Xmas Special. Do not buy into the advertising propaganda, unless you're getting paid £250k like Ant & Dec. For that money I'd lick Cowell's starfish live on TV.

3 - Christmas Gifts

 

This is the ultimate pressure test. There are so many stressful variables.  "What if they buy you a better one? What if you choose a bad one? How many are appropriate? How much should you spend? Don't worry. Presents do not define your personality, nor how much you love someone. Having said that when you get a present so badly wrong it's the beginning of the end. Thoughts like, "if they got it that wrong they can't know me very well.' Don't worry though this process takes a good few years to play out. You still have time to get it right.

It's always awkward to know where to draw the line and who to buy for. This is simple, get yourself down to Poundland and stock up on a load of deodorant 'Gift sets'. Don't get the Lynx ones mind. They set you back around £6. Get the Poundland 'own brand one'. They are a quid, granted they smell like rotting flesh but you'll be covered. Trouble is when people receive this kind of gift the subtext message is a simple, 'I hate you'. Be careful who you give them too.

For other presents try not to max out on the credit card and 'worry about it in January'. This will result in Wonga, 4000% APR, losing a Kidney to pay for it and ultimately suicide. Set your budget. Stick to it and don't be frightened to go bargain hunting.

However here's a warning. If a woman says 'don't get me much', or if they are happy 'with something you made' or 'its the thought that counts'. They're not. If you don't get them something glam, romantic or expensive they will effectively cock whip you for the next year. It's just you won't know about it. Women never ever forget.

Don't stress too much about presents. There is far too much importance attached to them. However it is not our fault. The years of rampant commercialism has brainwashed us to such an extent that if we don't get an Ipad Air from our loved ones we think they hate us and feel abandoned. Nothing than a good dose of therapy about rampant entitlement won't knock out of you though.

4 - Xmas Shopping

 

Make a list and then execute it with military precision. Be prepared for endless queues & confused men wandering aimlessly around looking lost. It is effectively a human zoo. A jungle. You will need patience, strength, courage, stamina and several large brandies. Chritmas shopping is not supposed to be enjoyable. Be careful of the neurotic women you will see flying around. You can tell them by their wild eyed stare trying to process 1546 things to do from their list. These are dangerous beasts. If you get in there way you will be assaulted and do not under any circumstances say, "Relax, you're supposed to be enjoying Christmas". Certain death will follow such ridiculous statements.

Don't be afraid to be bold and barter. You can pick up some real bargains. Shops are desperate for business though if you try and negotiate in Poundland you've gone too far and will be lynched.

Of course you can avoid the madness and order everything online. This is much easier. Though in order to get the atmosphere of xmas shopping fill up your house with arguing mentalists, get someone playing carols badly and play endless 'Now that's what I call Xmas' on the Ipod. Then you will really get in the spirit.

The other option for guys of course is get your wife to do it all. Throw her £500 on December 1st. Put the tree up and your work is done.

5-  Health

 

You must look after your health over the festive period. The average male consumes around 40% more units of alcohol and calories. The phrase, 'Go on it's Christmas', seems to mean eat loads, drink loads and worry about it in January. So follow some simple handy tips to maintain health

Over-eating

How to solve the problem of eating too much? Simple, a little bit if Bulimia - granted not a traditional way of controlling your weight. However this way you can eat everything your gluttonous little mind wants and not put on a pound. The only word of warning on this is be careful not to try and bring up stollen or xmas pudding. These are too heavy and may result in puking up your innards. If you do over eat invest in some elasticated slacks for January. If you have really gone over the top double up with some Velcro slip-ons. Planning ahead is a good call.  

Drinking too much

Most people drink too much this time of year. It's almost a sponsored country wide binge drink. Whether it's an xmas party, with friends or family. The crushing tedium or fake cheer demands such binge drinking. Even people who rarely drink tend to get stuck in. Be careful not to wake up in a skip though. Regular alcoholics are used to this kind of blackout but for the amateur drinker it is scary. Do not be alarmed by a blackout. It actually makes you more interesting than you really are. Try and find a crowd of people who are alcoholics. That way you can camouflage behind their heavy drinking, making yours look tame. Be kind to your liver and drink lots of water before bed. it does absolutely nothing for it, but it will make you feel at least you are making a token effort of goodwill towards it. be warned though it will give you hell in January.

 

Mental Health

If you over eat, over drink, over spend, under sleep and experience high levels of stress you are setting yourself up for a monumental crash after Xmas. My advice is simple. Either keep drinking heavily throughout the rest of the year and deny the oncoming crash or try not to over indulge in the first place. Prevention is better than cure.  

It is crucial to look after your health. Over indulging can lead to feelings of lethargy, depression and fear. Therefore be careful not to eat the cold cuts, finish of the Milk Tray and drink the remaining Advocaat because you feel rubbish. Limit your blasts to a single day. Have a cheat day at Xmas where you eat everything you want. The rest of the time go steady otherwise it will be elasticated leisure slacks for you in the January sales.

6 - The meaning of Christmas - Spirituality

 

Most people's idea of feeding their soul is with Tesco canapés. Obviously as rampant commercialism has taken over the Christmas message the only spirit nourished is Brandy & coke.

It's important to feed your spirit. It is what defines us after all. Christmas jumpers or Mince Pies come and go. Ipad Air's are just material 'things'. Your soul and spirit makes who we are. It is our life force. So what are you doing this season for it?

Working with those less fortunate than yourself is a good start. Crisis at Xmas is a great way to give back to the community and also appease your guilt for being selfish the rest of the year.

If you are not religious it doesn't matter. We can all pray, help another, take time for someone on their own, give a small gift, love or smile. We can all help in some way or form. Sometimes we get lost in the panic and hype so much we lose site of loved family or even our fellow man. Time is the biggest gift of all and sometimes we are guilty of not giving enough of it. So give someone a little time this season and not expect anything in return. I guarantee it will make you feel good. Although if they give you a Gift set deodorant pack from Poundland never go back.

7 - Family

 

A big issue this. Some people haven't got family. More than 250,000 will spend this Xmas alone. Sad isn't it? Then of course there are the dysfunctional families. Addicts, alcoholics, mental health, poverty, unemployment. For some people this time of year is horrible. Especially when you get those cunts at Tesco peddling such perfect family Christmases. There are many kids all over the world who don't get anything. It's important to cherish & be grateful for what we have.

Even if you hate your family and spend the 3 days you go an visit in a state of sheer depression & searing resentment, especially when the trivial pursuit comes out. Try and adjust the attitude to what you do have, see their good points. I guarantee you will miss them when they are gone (unless of course they are total nightmares then I suggest going as far away from them as possible. Goa for instance.)

If you are visiting your Mother eat everything she puts in your path. It is her way of showing her love and a mortal sin not to accept the gifts of grub. Even if your colon tries to escape through the garden, gather it up and keep going. It is not about eating to enjoy food. it is about accepting love (and prawn canapés from Morrisons)

8 - The Big Day

 

Always something of a let down after the hype of the previous month. For most it is a day of compulsive over eating, binge drinking, reckless spending, low level boredom and sloth. Lots of sitting down and forced joyfulness can often result in mild depression later in the day,

After the breakfast, presents, calorie filled lunch, pudding,snooze, games, movie, quality street, cheeses, pickles, nuts, cold cuts, moronic grazing and monging in front of the TV you will effectively be brain dead by 11pm. The only suggestion I can make is DO NOT wear a belt. Something with an elasticated waste is crucial.

Of course you could totally go the other way and do service for others on Xmas day. Go for a long walk or even just bugger off abroad. The important thing is to go your own way. Do not feel pressured to go conventional because everyone else does. Make the Christmas you want, but if you do get loads of presents. Try not to post them up on Facebook. Nobody likes a gloater.

9 - That Bit Between Xmas and New Year

 

Dead time. Perhaps you are visiting relatives. Perhaps you are just padding around at home. Perhaps you hoover up all the masses of needlessly bought food working on your mild obesity. It is dead time. For most blokes they cannot wait for Boxing day as the football and sport begins. However what do we do in this country to celebrate this part of the festive period? We shop of course. The sales begin. Xmas night the commercial juggernaut starts rolling again. You have been given 18 hours rest and now the pressure is on again. Buy your presents for next year now!!! Madness

January sales have been brought forward to Boxing day. People are spending xmas night shopping online. It is relentless. There is no escape. Pure insanity.

My advice is to escape this and do things you don't usually do. Go for a walk. Enjoy the countryside or coast. See people you don't usually. Do something positive and good for your soul. The buzz you get from buying something for 50% will soon wear off, as will the double chocolate log. Go deeper my friends in this dead time and you will feel refreshed.

10 - Help Others

 

Oh God there had to be an Oprah ending didn't there? Sorry people it's the only way to end this survival guide. Of course if you're a blatant alcoholic, self obsessed spend-a-holic, neurotic control freak or just plain selfish you won't give a shit about anyone else.

 

However if you are seeking a little happiness and contentment during Christmas it is by far the most important thing you can do. Help 1 other human being.

 

I'm not suggesting you go out every day firing mince pies at the homeless. It doesn't have to be a grand gesture. It doesn't matter in any small way. Drop in on a neighbour. Visit someone on their own. Listen to someone who's having a hard time. Whatever it is - we are never happier in ourselves when we are giving something away to another human being. It is good for the soul. It is good for the spirit. It makes us happier, lighter and well rounded. Plus if you get an Ipad Air off the person you help that's a double bonus. I never said I was a saint did I?

Merry Christmas!!

* Note from the author **

 

I actually like Christmas. I'm not a fan of the huge commercialism but I' m a romantic. I love it all. Not in a Richard Curtis kind of way. I'm too much of a cynical fucker for that but I am a sucker for the Christmasy things. My mother was world class at it and it has stuck. I will be helping at Crisis, but I do try and back that up throughout the year so I'm no hypocrite on that. I do try and help others and those less fortunate throughout the year, so again I'm not preaching just at xmas.

Because   have no kids I have usually buggered off to a beach in Goa for the festive period but as recession bites and money becomes tight this year I am in London. I love it at xmas because everyone buggers off out of London, showing how few people are actually from here. The roads are clear, the atmosphere is chilled and it looks beautiful.

I am looking forward to xmas. I have managed to get my girlfriend some Laboutins so I am virtually guaranteed anal on xmas night. I'm a lucky happy boy

 

 

Merry Xmas to all!!

This blog is light hearted tongue in cheek. People do suffer over xmas so if you are experiencing problems with alcohol, food, drugs, domestic abuse, debt or want to help out at Xmas here are some links below that may help you;

 

 http://www.crisis.org.uk/pages/christmas.html

 

http://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/

 

http://www.nationaldebtline.co.uk/

 

http://www.samaritans.org/

 

 

How To Deal with Resentments - 10 Easy Steps

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Mans Retreat 2013 - 4 men & a static caravan

I survived the 2nd annual mans retreat. This is my rather dubious account.

History

This was the 2nd Annual Man Retreat  & in all honesty a well earned break for the married ones. What goes on Man Retreat Stays on Man retreat, though in truth sod all really happens, which is just the way the married men want it.

Firstly we need to define what is Mans Retreat? Well at the age of 40 my mates and I are roughly 5 years away from the mid life crisis. Also my pals are now married with young children so their lives are very different than before. They have little in the way of time to read Exchange & Mart on the shitter let alone spend time with their mates. This is the whole concept of mans retreat. To reconnect with other men and read Exchange & Mart on the khazi.

A wider issue is that modern men are losing their identity in the world. Years ago our role was defined yet now it is changing. We are effectively becoming pussy whipped, metro sexual man is taking over. Small beards, exfoliation cream & men that sing like girls on X Factor . Where have all the real men gone? It is a time to go back to the roots, be with other men and generally do fuck all for 2 days in your pants. It follows the same basic code of all other forms of retreat. To reconnect with your core values through the medium of grunts and silences in a hairy, smelly environment. It is not for the faint hearted or hairless.

The ideal place to reconnect is in a confined space. Here a Static caravan is the ideal environment to get back in touch with your masculinity. 12 square foot of beige lined peaceful bliss without a screaming child, nappy, wife or fellow man to please. Man Retreat encourages total freedom, abandon and Scotch Egg crumbs. Leave your Gucci loafers at home boys. Big pants and cardigans are all that is required.

 

To add to the Mike Leigh gritty realism, it has to be in a British seaside town out of season and it has to be personal to one of the members. Men who now have families and kids need to reconnect with their childhood too.

Last year it was Pembrokshire, as I spent lots of time there as a kid. This year it was Brean Sands as one of the members submitted a eulogy to the memories he had as a kid of the 'turd brown sand and romantic views of Barry Island by night. There was only one winner.

So the caravan was booked (3 bedrooms), the party was expanded by one (on trial for the weekend), & we were off to Home Farm Caravan park, Burnham On Sea. A bonus was that it was adults weekend (slightly worried it's an X large suburban swinging retreat) and Roger Decorsey was starring in the club house on Saturday. I'm pretty sure he was only booked as he's the only 70's performer not arrested on Operation Yewtree. It was all set. We were ready. 1 highly sensitive recovering alcoholic (me), a depressive, an anxiety sufferer and a sport addict. Bring it on!! It is where we reconnect as men in 12 square meters of unbridled beige. The healing power of the Static

Friday 15th November - Day 1

The day of the road trip. When you think of a road trip it conjures romantic images of Jack Kerouac On the Road, Alan Ginsberg, the beat poets, Thelma & Louise and endless adventure. We're off to a static caravan in Somerset. Pick the adventure out of that. Fear and loathing in Wookey Hole.

We were to meet at 12pm. I immediately fucked it by scheduling a business meeting and interview. I ended up 90 minutes late. This immediately pissed everyone off. Luckily my post on Facebook in the morning about the married boys being pussy whipped deflected their resentment away from me being late to me being antagonistic towards their partners. This was not a good start. Not only was I Relegated to the back seat of a child locked car rendering me cock less but within 5 minutes I was ganged up by 3 married men for calling them pussy whipped. Not a great start by me.

Married blokes with kids have an unspoken affinity, identification and connection. They have shared experience of marriage, kids and responsibility. Whereas me, a 41 year old commitment-phobe who has never been married, kids, mortgage avoiding any kind of responsibility instead dedicating his life to hedonistic selfish pursuits, did not.

 

The team was clearly unbalanced and in need of someone in the Makele role. (female readers will have no idea of that Football reference - it's basically the Football equivalent of a marriage guidance counsellor or in other words Tramadol)

Finally we got to Man number 4's gaff in Marlow at 3pm after heavy traffic and a slight hint of niggly banter in the air.

At this point we decided to attempt some continuity from the 1st Man Retreat when we got to his house & commented on his kitchen sofa (every one's so middle class in Marlow they have sofa's in their kitchen) last year he worried that it was too small & expensive. We agreed, making his Kitchen area look like a non league football bench. Repetition is a key factor in Man Retreat. I said repetition is a key factor in Mans Retreat etc..

The second point of Man's interest was the newly laid decking. It looked like he'd had half his garden decked. It reminded me of a P&O ferry. I had a moment of clarity. Realising we had indeed reached middle age when we all sat and admired the workmanship. Clearly a man has reached a stage in his life when he discusses decking. It's Impressive & horrifying in equal measures.

A quick group shot was taken with the intention of recording the Man Club Retreat members but all it ended up doing was making us look like four faded members of a 90's Boy Band'. Recreating hits like 'Special Brew', 'I'm getting decking in the morning' and 'where did it all go wrong'. We were ready to roll. (All be it in the middle lane at a safe consistent speed of 70 miles an hour)

The drive

The drive is a key ingredient in the bonding process. Conversation must flag after the initial burst of adrenaline until you all sit in slightly bored silence. This is occasionally broken with random comments about driving skill. One reversing manoeuvre got exceptional respect with a textbook 'arm across the backseat' move. Men were suitably impressed at this forearm action. Solid, dynamic, bold and confident. Nobody likes a nervous driver on Man Retreat. The driver has 3 eagle eyes watching his every move and the pressure is on. Sebastian Vettel would shit himself with such man pressure but our driver confidently munched his way through several scotch eggs, demolished 4 cans of diet coke and kept a stern glare throughout. Not only that but he kept one hand on the gear stick throughout, ready for any quick rally like gear change and on occasions even rested his right arm on the arm rest with his forearm out the window cradling the roof. Textbook stuff.

.

Arrival

The sense of anticipation and sheer relief that you can stretch your creaking 40 year old limbs is electric. You remember when you were a kid going to the seaside on holiday and how excited you got? Well you don't get any of that on Mans Retreat. You're far too jaded and cynical for that silly joyful stuff. Instead you're more excited by stretching your sciatica than the location, however we managed to muster up some modicum of interest when we arrived at the spectacular Home Farm Caravan Park at 6pm.

We were greeted with an odd sprawling mass of towed and static caravans with a huge club house, indoor pool and slight whiff of decay and depression. Think the farm in Dallas meets council estate and you get the picture. It was the Perfect Man Retreat Location. The brochure described rolling fields and wide open spaces. Whereas all that was rolling was tobacco outside the bar and the wide open spaces were clearly the shelves in the barren onsite shop.

Luckily The Static was an upgrade on last year's Tide Rio. This was pure luxury. 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and a small balcony ( steps to the door) - The interior was a a world of beige. Like stepping into a carpet advert from the 70's. Perfect.

 

The men unpacked & discovered we had 2 towels, 1 small toothpaste and a charger between us. Ray Mears we were not. Clearly we had left it up to each other thinking, 'he's bound to bring.it.' Girls would never ever leave something to chance and it just highlighted how shit us men are at preparation and packing. A rucksack with Lynx, Socks, pants, fleece and Exchange & Mart would suffice.

The strict itinerary allowed us 2 hours of downtime. There were literally tens of things you could do at this Caravan of Fun Park. Either stay in or go to the clubhouse. There was only one winner. Pool at the over large, decaying and empty clubhouse. The ultimate 'winner stays on' male bonding activity. Now the club house was essentially a large darts hall, with 500 seats, long tables, a huge bar and café serving nothing but 'everything and chips'. Thus was Bullseye territory. Not a skinny Machiato in sight.

We aimlessly played pool, the 2 drinkers got stuck into the pints whilst the recovery boys chomped nuts and downed diet coke. The England match came on TV and we were away, Pool and footie, no conversation. Men in comfortable sports induced silence. Perfect.

After it was time for a Man feed. The only thing to eat when you hit the British seaside is of course a dirty Curry. So off we popped to Burnham on Sea, a rather strange small place that only the extremely poor or clinically insane would choose to go on holiday (can't work out which ones we were). The men bonded over Lamb Bhuna and Kingfishers. The recovering alkie tried to drink vicariously through the other two by ordering them pints, brandies and chasers. Old habits die hard. Going for a curry was a bit of a risk. 4 lads, strong curry and a 12 square foot caravan. There would be no escape. The propensity for wind damage huge, A Philippines style storm could well be brewing. Still it's good to take risks on Man Retreat,

The boys got back to the Static at around 11pm, the drinkers went to the club house for last orders whilst the other 2 reclined in their pants at late night movies. Of course this is one thing man Retreat insists on. A shit movie to kick off the weekend.

 

Then we indulged in a 5 hour conversation/debate that turned into an outright argument about several topics most of us cheerfully displayed maximum confidence in knowing about but very little true knowledge. I was the biggest exponent as I passionately argued my case and got more frustrated as I became increasingly irrelevant, tenuous and obtuse.

Still there was no going back now and thus I slipped into what most men will be familiar with. Male pride. Arguing your point long after you know what you were talking about. Your mouth is moving but your brain is saying, 'shut the fuck up'. Your make pride and ego are well in control by now preventing you from backing down and admitting your were talking shit. It also persuaded me the 3 Dads were ganging up on me feeding my sense of persecution even more thus rendering me even more aggressive with my points. At several stages my finger even came out. never a good sign. 

 

My Ego  pursued this pointless charade until 5am, and even when nobody had any will left, it still wanted more. My stupid male pride has no off button when in control of me and it was thirsty. The boy's eyes were shutting and the birds were singing. A textbook exhibition of male pride. The result? Total misery and a teenage strop. Perfect male behavioural patterns I and we know oh so well boys.

The only thing you should be doing at 5am is drugs, sleeping or a milk round. Certainly not arguing about the commercialisation of the mass media as a reason for how the truth isn't exposed and people are idiots for believing what is peddled. My ego thought I knew what I was talking even if nobody else or my true self did.

I'm not going to lie it was an exhausting and intense start to Mans Retreat. A static caravan is no place to indulge in a heavy moral and sociological debate. We should have stuck to 'who's a paedo'. I soon realised at 2am I should shut my mouth but my male egoic pride kept me going until 5am. And I'm supposed to be the one with a 12 step programme!!

 

Day 2 - Sat 16th November

Mans Retreat Saturday

Mans retreat Saturday is the guts of the retreat. The engine room. It has to start off with a lie in. (for the married boys) Especially in your cramped caravan bed with your legs hanging over the end. The night must be interrupted by intermittent waking up due to hypothermia in the freezing conditions. Double socks are a must.

A lie in is essential for fathers on Mans retreat. It is a rare treat and one to be savoured. Not having young children climbing all over you at 6.30am is essential to reclaim your masculinity and get some kip in.  

Training Regime

 

Exercise is important on Mans Retreat. To keep physically fit helps to balance the undoubted eating of shit throughout the weekend. The Married ones with children opt for lie in over a run 9 times out of 10. Married mens training regime is essentially horizontal sleep. I personally opted for a run to the beach, taking in the gorgeous turd brown coast and endless boarded up houses. This place hasn't come out of recession since 1984. I passed 3 mobility scooters, 1 van with BJ's on the side and 2 piles of sick. Welcome to Brean Sands! Now fuck off...

 

The run enabled me to feed my huge resentment at the 3 other boys and contemplate leaving. Such was my intense insanity. I soon calmed down. Had a big pray up on the beach, had a stern word with myself for being such a knob and headed back to hunt and gather provisions for the boys breakfast.  

  

Breakfast

 

Mans retreat only allows fried food. Museli contravenes several rules and results in being suspended. Man is encouraged to go out into the wild (well the local Tesco Express on the way back from my run) and hunt, gather and forage his own food, (put them on his credit card). Eggs, Bacon, Sausage, black pudding & toast the staple ingredients. Man must then cook his own breakfast, reclaiming his Independence in unhealthy fried cooking and then sit in a cramped kitchenette squeezing himself into the caravan's 'social zone' to eat at a table and get yolk over his beard.  Endless tea is drunk eschewing all modern advice to hydrate with water. Mans retreat encourages you to get into double figures by midday.

 

A natural order falls into place. I hunted and gathered the food whilst one of the other men cooked it, another washed up and the 4th member did fuck all. Men working in unison performing team work, albeit for 4 minutes. The bonding had been re-established.  

 

Itinerary

 

It is crucial for Mans Retreat not to have any plans or itinerary throughout the day. The day must include essentially nothing. Pressures and responsibilities of every day life mean that Mans Retreat provides a healing balance to this by asking you to do absolutely nothing apart form drift along the day. Mans retreat encourages sitting around in the cramped caravan after breakfast in your pants, reading papers until one or all of you starts getting on each others tits & annoyed. It is THEN time to go out. Mind you this probably happened last night though of course the other rule of Mans Retreat, Never say how you feel, the truth or express any emotions. Simply repress it and continue to nurture a secret deep rooted resentment for around 40 years.

 

Nature & Reconnect with Childhood

 

Mans Retreat encourages Man to visit places he went in childhood to reconnect with being a youngster and recall positive memories from the past. One of the members visited Brean Sands from the age of 3-15, so it was like a spiritual home coming for him. A special moment was the look of horror on his face though when he realised 'It's more of a shit hole than I remember'. Life always seems so much better when you're a kid, and now as a jaded, tired cynical grown up man it's good to get back in touch with those pure emotions of joy, excitement and fun. It's a chance to stare out to sea, observe the golden coast of Barry Island and say 'who Am I?' 'What am I doing here?' and 'What time is the pub open?"

 

 

 

 

Having said that the fresh air, long drawn out tides, howling wind, turd brown sand and stench of piss as you walked up the alley to get to the beach meant you were filled with their own memories of childhood, waves of nostalgia and nostrils full of stale urine. It was time to leave. Pub

 

 

Afternoon

 

This is simple. Pub. Pints. Sport. Rugby, Football. Pub Quiz. No frills. It does exactly what it says on the tin. No messing. No chat. Simple drinking, sport and trivia knowledge. Classic Manly Pub activity. Not a kids club, Ikea, Home furnishing or shopping centre in sight. Bliss!

 

Diet

 

Diet is crucial on mans retreat. Fruit and vegetables are banned. The average meal must include at least 99% Carbs and heavy saturated fat. Man Retreat rejects nutritionists advice on fresh vegetables, white lean meats and pulses. The only pulse allowed on Man retreat is his own after a heavy afternoon in the pub. Man Retreat doesn't follow Paleo, Atkins, IM, Blood or any other form of diet. The only diet allowed on Man Retreat is the Fat Cunt diet. Cookbook to be published later.

 

This means the only Saturday evening meal of choice is fish and chips. Plus an optional battered sausage and bread roll. This is the ultimate #CarbWank. Where you are effectively putting carb on carb on carb on carb. The only green thing allowed on Mans Retreat is mushy peas or bogie's. It makes no difference they look the same anyway.

 

 

This is of course bolstered by post dinner Scampi fries, bacon fries, Dime Bars, snickers, nuts and crisps. This makes staying in a small confined caravan for a number of hours extremely volatile and smelly. Men's Retreat encourages breaking wind as a means of men letting it all out. It is one of the ethos of Mans retreat. Not to hold anything back and relax. So much so there is often a severe danger of man shitting himself mid gust. One of the members suffered a scare during 'You've Been Framed' luckily it was a false alarm. Only some light skids.

 

Evening

 

The evening is a tricky choice. The natural inclination is to lay around in your pants watching sport, movies & occasionally breaking wind. Luckily Saturday night was entertainment night in the Caravan Park clubhouse, so there was only 1 place to go. I haven't felt that excited about a night out since

 

We arrived at 8.30pm and the place was packed. Rows of tables and heavily tattooed men (and women) dressed to the nines in leisure slacks and comfortable shoes. To be fair some of the women had made an effort, though I'm not sure if they were in fancy dress or not. All the women looked like cleaners and the men like Sunday league football managers. It was an odd mix.

 

The bar was doing a roaring trade, the café churning out chips by the kilo. This was not a place for Gillian Keith.

 

We settled at the pool table (naturally) and resumed our 'winner stays on' bonding exercise. The rugby was playing loudly in the corner and the Northern Mc (why are they always Northern) started the bingo. Yes it really did happen. It is mandatory on a Caravan park to have Bingo. Near enough everyone of the 500 strong crowd played for the top jackpot prize of £60. Gripping stuff.

 

After what seemed like 23 days, they brought on the warm up act for Roger Decorsey. It was by now proper cabaret and they brought the musical turn on. Lady GaGa tribute, complete with silver bikini & glasses. I'm pretty sure she had a meat dress on but it was made from strips of Turkey Ham and Offal from Lidel. Classy it was not.

 

We then introduced a healing factor into Man Retreat. The Fear challenge. The equivalent of walking across hot coals and fire you get to do in self development retreats. It's all about curbing your fear and persuading yourself you can do anything. So what was the Man Retreat equivalent?

 

Dancing of course. Not just any dancing. Sober dancing. Terrifying for the real man who requires at least 8 pints of strong lager just to remove the 20 foot neon flashing 'Twat' sign above his head as he throws down his shapes. The men were challenged to conquer their fears and take to the empty dance floor in front of 500 people and dance sober solo to the Ga Ga tribute. This would help them break free of their fear. Loosen the chains of suppression and allow the Men to tackle life with a new found energy and open mindedness. When asked if they fancied taking this challenge they all replied in unison, "fuck off" and carried on playing pool. Quite ironic really as you give a man strong lager and you can't drag him off the fucking thing. Maybe next year. 

 

To be fair to Ga Ga she could sing and she roused the crowd from their carb loaded slumber. It was at this point the night got weird. " blokes from Wales bounced into the room dressed as gigantic inflatable penises. They danced with Lady Ga Ga whilst slopping their pints everywhere.

 

I looked on at this scene and thought. I've taken every drug there is known to man. I've tripped my face off on strong LSD for days on end. I've drunk my own body weight in hard liqueur, I've attended 12 step meetings for years. I've seen every weird sight known to man, but never ever have I seen a darts crowd rocking to Lady Ga Ga, dressed in Bernard Mathews Turkey Ham, with 2 giant cocks dancing in front of her waiting for Roger Decorsey & Nookie Bear. It was a special moment. One you have to freeze frame and appreciate. This may never happen again in my life.

 

Of course, the boys played on at Pool as if they saw this everyday. I on the other hand couldn't resist;

 

 

Insert joke here (...........)

 

 

 After we settled down from the excitement, Ga Ga did her best to rouse the bored crowd and we took our spaces at the bar to watch the star turn. Roger Decoursey and Nookie Bear. The last time we saw him was on CrackerJack in the 70's and he wasn't funny then. We had high hopes for his blue adults act and clearly everyone was excited to see him.

 

He came on to resounding indifference and proceeded to bomb. He chucked everything at the crowd including some gentle racism and homophobia. It was only when he got Nookie Bear out the crowd went wild and he was on track. I checked to see if Man Retreat were enjoying it but their faces gave it away;

 

 

 Sometimes Men's faces just hide the truth. I bet inside they were pissing themselves. We left 2 minutes after this pic was taken 20 minutes into the act. Any further exposure to this could well have set off suicidal thoughts within the group. Not the aim of Man Retreat.

 

We left to go back to the van where we watched back to back Man films (not the mucky ones you maybe thinking. Nobody likes a jizz soaked Static) and whilst 2 of the members peeled off to bed early (1am) me and another member got into a rather deep discussion.

 

Luckily it wasn't on the scale of the previous evening however we did start to talk about God, spirituality and Higher Power's. A little deep for Man Retreat and a Static caravan. Still it was a fine attempt at informed discussion regularly interrupted by loud trumps of wind. Something you don't see on Question Time. Full marks to us though for carrying on in such adversity.

 

The discussion ended at 3am and we hit the hay. (not together) for a Carb induced kip. It was A long Saturday and thrillingly I didn't annoy, piss or upset anyone off today. Luckily my ego was under control. For now.

 

Sunday 17th November.

 

By now everyone was sick of the sight of each other. 48 hours living on top of each other in a cramped confined space had taken it's toll. Of course the heavy carbs, fried food, lack of sleep, several bottles of Red & feeling of decay within the Park played it's part. It was time to leave.

 

The non pussy whipped married boys had their families to get back to. Me? Well I had a hot date with my girlfriend. Man, how she coped for 2 days without my incessant moaning, annoyance and pretend dancing to crap techno lord only knows.

 

Roll on next year. Who knows we may even push the boat out to a cottage in somewhere even more exotic like Hull. One can only dream.

 

Keep Manning Up Men and look out for a Man Retreat near you. It's genuinely thrilling

 

Nicholas E Evans

xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

EVANS GOES HERBAL - Giving Up Caffeine Is Harder than it Looks - The Friday Blog

Did we all survive Halloween? Is the car and house still standing from trick or treaters?  I loved it as a kid, dressing up, knocking on people's doors. Getting 20p was the holy grail back then, though you usually ended up with manky old penny sweets. Of course for the miserable sods who didn't give you anything a turd through the letter box or a flat tyre was fair game. Now as an adult I really appreciate how much of a nightmare such childish behaviour is. It takes months to eradicate turd stains and smells from the hall carpet. I played it safe & avoided any undue damage to my property by dressing up in a gold lama tracksuit, white wig, big cigar and opened the door by saying 'howzaboutthatthen guys and gals'. Slightly wrong but it did the trick. I am turd free this morning.

It's always been a big deal Halloween, especially for kids. However now the full commercial sales might has taken off it's everywhere. It seems that time is shortening because we are bombarded by advertising messages promoting the next 'big occasion'. We've just been through Halloween, now it is full steam ahead Christmas. Then it will be Valentines Day, Easter, Mothers Day etc. It's almost like the big brands are encouraging us to forget the now & have our mind on the next occasion. It's exhausting. Still I must be grateful for a turd free hallway this morning even if I did receive several complaints from my neighbours for my Fancy dress attire last night.

This is my new Friday slot for my blog. My weekly round up. I will spare you the dull bits this week (There have been many I assure you), but the headline news is that I've given up caffeine. Yep, this little 5 bottles of diet coke & 14 cups of tea-a-day merchant has been caffeine free for 3 days.

Now for a man who has been brought up by Welsh women who insist on drinking at least 4 litres of tea a day it's been quite a big deal. Tea is the fulcrum of this country. Think of any national crisis and it's always 'I'll put the kettle on'. And I'm not talking about that herbal shit either. Nor even the fresh loose leaf style or even poncy vastly overpriced silky Tea-pigs. No, I'm talking old school builders tea. So strong that you could stand your spoon up in it. Drop of milk, 2 sugars. Lovely.

I have been used to guzzling multiple cups a day. Wake up. Cup of tea and a smoke. Tea on the way to work. Tea at my desk. Tea at home, tea after dinner, tea, tea, tea. Since getting sober my tea drinking took on astronomical grounds. I swear to god I smelt of Teltley. I love it. Can't get enough. If you then double up with multiple bottles of diet coke & the occasional red bull then Bingo you're on a roll.

Trouble is of course, the occasional day like this is OK, but doing it day in, day out for 12 years takes it's toll. You can't sleep. You are constantly knackered, so what do you do to get by, you load up on even more caffeine. Insane. it's like the blind leading the blind. But you know what is really insane? I never took Pro Plus or other stimulants as I was of course sober & in recovery and considered that 'using' artificial stimulants. That's proper insane. Totally fooling myself and justifying that my behaviour was Ok because I wasn't popping pills. That's like someone smoking Skunk but not counting it as a drug because it's not Heroin. Madness.

The fact that I was pouring more stimulants into my system than the Jamaican sprint team didn't enter into my head. I was fooling myself that much. So why did I stop this week?

Well other than getting very little sleep for 12 years, huge dark circles under my eyes like Frankenstein, chronic fatigue, dry mouth, feeling constantly hung over, trouble concentrating, irritability, intolerance, negative thinking, rotting teeth & body breaking down no reason really.

How can caffeine do all that? Well I guess in moderation like everything else it is fine. But since when have I ever done moderation? I know how to spell it, it's just doing it I find tricky. If I like something and it feels good then I want as much as I can possibly ingest. Plus of course as humans we fall into repetitive habits. The thought to have something comes and I have it. Constantly. This is where habitual human behaviour meets addictive personality. The result? Well the above list will do for a start.

No it's not Heroin, crack or any of the headline drugs. No I am not over dramatizing this. It's only fucking tea after all for Christs sake Nicholas!!! But trust me addictions can take on many forms, each having their own damage. I still have loads more in my locker I'm not ready to let go of yet.

So this week I've been downing decaf tea (I know, I know it's like non alcoholic lager and a waste of time but I'm doing this in stages OK?) & I've got on the herbal shit. Peppermint & Chamomile.

I  have officially turned into one of those wankers I hated in my early sobriety. And you know what I love it! It's inevitable. I mean, my Egoic me is bound to hate anyone who is healthy, happy and successful because my it doesn't want me to do that.

So for years I've lived in it (and still do a lot) merrily drink 20 cups of sweetener laced tea, smoking 40 fags a day and keep myself feeling shite. Well no more Ego. You can fuck off. I'm on the Peppermint & chamomile. Mmm raspberry & elderflower infusion. Bring it on. Green Leaf Mint Japanese Herbal Garden..You fucking bet. I'll have a pint. I'm a herbal mother fucker now Ego. Tetley's will be fucked. Their profits will fall at least 12% a week as The Evans goes herbal.

The big test of course will come when entering an old school café. I'm not sure the order of "Full English breakfast with grilled tomato, poached free range egg, wheat free toast & a cup of elderflower & thyme infusion tea please luv", will be met with enthusiasm. Still I will build up to that.

However the ultimate will come when I go back to Wales to see Aunt Gwynie. Turning down tea in Llanelli is not only considered rude, unsacred and shocking. I actually think it's illegal too. Unless you've drunk 14 litres of weak tea until your bladder is bursting you've not been sociable. I dread to think the look on her face when I ask for Jasmine infused Green Tea. I actually think it may finish her off. My grandfather Idwell Isaac Evans will be turning in his tea stained Grave at the thought of that one. Mind you I think he died from a burst bladder so fair does.

So after 12 years of massively loading up my system on legal stimulants and abusing my body I've been in absolute bits this week. Withdrawals symptoms have included tiredness, headache, thirsty. back pain, aching legs, depression. All from fucking tea and diet coke!!!!!!!! Holy shit I dread to think what giving up smoking will be like, That may tip me over the edge.

Anyway, have a tip top caffeine, lactose, dairy, wheat, sugar free weekend if indeed you can have any fun without any of that. Still for all you non addicts out there there's always wine, whiskey, sex and song. I'll just stick to the sex and song me thinks. Followed of course by a herbal.

Nicholas E Evans

Courage Needs A Friend Sometimes

Hello readers, how are you doing? It's been a while. Have you missed me? I've certainly missed you. Thank God we're together again.

Your little author has been somewhat lost. That old fearful, worried, self doubting, self deprecating head took over for a bit and wouldn't let go. Apparently it's something called Ego.

Now I've always associated ego with being grand, full of it, almost arrogant. However I recently discovered that's not the case. Firstly it helps to know the definition of Ego. Do you know? Do you think you know? Me too, I thought I did. It's remarkable how often I use words or terminology which is incorrect.

Ego" is a Latin and Greek (ἑγώ) word meaning "I", often used in English to mean the "self", "identity" or other related concepts.

So Ego is actually Me, myself and I. Of course this can apply to people being too full of themselves which can come across as arrogance. But what about when you're in fear? When you're doubting yourself? When your head will not switch off and you are consumed by worry, remorse, self pity & negativity? When your financial worries overtake you. When you feel a failure. When you constantly compare yourself to others and come off second best. 

Well as I've recently discovered this too is Ego. Exactly the same family as arrogance just the other side of the coin. It's essentially being consumed by self. So much so that almost everything else is clouded. Once this process is in place I find it like a juggernaut to stop. I am almost controlled by these emotions, driving me on. The Ego has taken over at this point. All perspective lost.

I'm still lucky enough to function of course. Wake up, go to work, speak to people, live life but it feels like there's a big sheet of glass between you and the world. This is not to be confused with depression. Some do. Depression is an illness and my heart goes out to be people who suffer from it. The thought patterns, brainwaves and body chemistry means people do not have a choice. That's the difference between depression and the Negative ego.

Patterns of thinking and behaviour have been with me since a child. I'm used to a certain way of thinking. Particularly about myself. Lump alcoholism into the mix, which is a form of mental illness  and you have a very powerful mix. Doctors, physicians, counsellors, therapists sometimes don't even spot the difference.

How often are people thrown anti depressants after a tough time mentally. We are one of the biggest abusers in the world. 'Pop a pill and everything will be OK'. Well for some of course medication is necessary and professional advice should be sought. However how many people suffer in silence or use alcohol or drugs or other behavioural patterns to medicate their thinking? I know did and do.

So why am I talking about this now? I've just come through a foggy time myself, It's been a real low time. Money is tight. The company I have been trying to get going is stalling and I'm worried about future income & finding work. I've been wondering what my calling is? What is my purpose? What can I do that I love and be proud of? I've become overwhelmed, fearful, feelings of failure and regretting the past. Wondering how I pissed away all my money, why I didn't climb the property ladder, why I have run away from responsibility, why I am, where I am, who the fuck am I?

See, totally in self isn't it? I dominated me and I didn't care much for what I saw. So what did I do? I avoided of course. I buried myself in old behaviours. I smoked more cigarettes, paced around the (rented) house more, ( see I had to put rented in brackets to show how much of a failure I think I am. That deep rooted self hatred rearing again almost as an impulse) stayed up later, worried more. The more I worried the worse it got. The more I tried to figure out what to do the less the answers came. The more I demanded from God the further away from peace I got. I was a bit fucked if I'm honest, yet nobody would have known. I've got the armour and the mask see.

Some people hate people like that. Instead they have an in built, up and at them attitude. Fight or flight. They get on with it and man do I find that admirable, like they're from another planet. Good on you I think, now how the fuck do I do it?

The point I'm trying to make is that sometimes I smash myself so hard. Smoking, diet coke, tea, caffeine, late nights, marathons, stress, worry that my body breaks down. It's almost like I'm so deeply entrenched in these negative Egoic behavioural patterns that the only way my soul can smash the ego is by smashing my body. Then of course I smash myself mentally. Beat myself up. Give myself too hard a time. This of course is another form of negative ego. Ugly isn't it to hear and read?

Then finally I wake up. When the body starts to break down or you mentally disintegrate I take notice and that process of change becomes a reality. That's where the real fun begins. How the fuck do you change?

Are you following me or have I lost you? Here's an Example for you. My teeth are rotting. They have holes in them. Why? Well basically because for the past 12 years since giving up booze I've been heavily addicted to diet coke (or Heroin as my mate calls it). 4-8 500ML bottles a day from morning to night. Coupled with a load of cigarettes that kept my ego nicely boiling for a good while.

I knew it was bad for me, it made me feel rough, the dentist told me 3 times to stop drinking it, one of my teeth fell out and I told myself most days. "You must stop this". I kept going. On and on until I prayed for the willingness to give up. I couldn't. I knew deep down I didn't want to. It was a habit and addiction.

Then one day 4 weeks ago I guzzled down a delicious chemically modified bottle of dark liquid cancerous diet heroin and thought. 'fuck it no more'. And I stopped there and then. A few cravings but none has passed my lips since then. I viewed it as something I couldn't do without. My prop along with cigarettes and tea. I can do without it. Another example of my Ego telling me lies. The next on the list is the cancer sticks and caffeine.

If I listened to the lies for 12 years on that what about all the other areas of my life? It has been ruling me for 41 years. Fuck me what a realisation.

I know my future has to be like one of those awful clean living bastards I used to hear when I first went to AA. I will have to turn into the person I hated. Fuck me I may even become happy.

The next thing on the list is my mind set. My thinking. So easily I go into negative. I put barriers up. 'It won't happen to me', 'I can't do that'. I'm either jealous of others success or berating myself for wasting time. What is the use of that? Again my Ego is winning. Ruling my thinking and behaviour.

So I spoke to people, reached out for help and of course my head wanted to be cured immediately. I was given some useful tips of what to do. Give up caffeine, chant, meditate, positive affirmations, writing, prayer. All the things my Ego hates with a passion and puts down before trying. So it wins and I remain in pain. I remain locked in self somewhere down there my ego wants. Contemot prior to investigation has been my mantra.

So I'm awakening to change. I have been praying and meditating for 4 days now. I feel lighter. The financial fear lifted this morning and came back this afternoon. I am trying to open myself up to the possibility of the future. The possibility that I may write a book, that I can do creative things. That perhaps I will be magnificent of sorts..

I'm not saying I've cracked it. (I've done 2 cups of tea and smoked 3 cigarettes whilst writing this but at least I didn't look at Shaven Asian 4) Jesus Christ it's like learning to walk or watch the X factor without wanting to kill yourself. I've a long long way to go. Many things to learn. Lots of layers to shed and a battle to get out of Ego and into the world of the soul. Into reality. To Properly step out into life. It's going to be a daily battle but one has to at least try, right?

Someone suggested I named my Ego. To give it a personality so you can talk to it, give it a perspective so you don't live it, be it and become governed by it. So I've called mine Donald. As in Trump. Fuck me, he's the world's biggest knob and exponent of Ego so it's very appropriate. Plus of course when I remember to look down on myself and my ego I can think of Donald Trump's ridiculous hair. That will make me smile and site of that ridiculous nest will take the power from any moments of self seriousness. Learn how to laugh at myself will be one of the biggest gifts of all.

After all, how important are we? Are we just passing through? How much do I really think my little worries impact on the world? is that not being a tad too self important when you miss everything happening in the world because I haven't got a semi detached in Sunbury? Get a grip Nicholas, it's a big old world out there and apparently, here's the shocking truth, it doesn't revolve around me. Hallelujah!! He's finally realised it (for today)

I've been listening to the serenity prayer for 12 years.

God, Grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference

I never knew what courage was. To fight? To stand your ground? To be a man? Courage can take many forms but one of the greatest is to face up to what you don't like about yourself and try to change. Hard isn't it?

Why are there so many counsellors, drugs, CBT's, self help books, personal development coaches? Some of us try to change but find it so bloody hard on our own. That's why together we are stronger. In unison we can do it. With faith, hope and help it's easier. When we connect we find out we're not the only one who feels this way. We can help each other change. We can do it. We really can.

That's why even courage needs a friend sometimes

Together we are stronger

Nicholas Edward Evans
25th October 2013.