The latest Phil Evans column from the South Wales Evening Post
The latest Phil Evans column from the South Wales Evening Post
Comedian Phil Evans is from Ammanford. He is known as the man who puts the ‘cwtsh’ into comedy
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C.S. Lewis once wrote “When I became a man, I put away childish things”.
And while his Narnia books were written for children, old C.S. knew what he was talking about.
As soon as my voice started to break and I realised that I could have more fun with girls than pulling their hair and pinching them on the odd occasion, I swapped my short trousers for long trousers.
Actually, to be truthful, because I didn’t know any better, for the first three months I wore my long trousers over my short trousers. I was such an idiot at 19.
I really was an idiot, because I was still in the Fourth Form. The Head was unhappy with me and refused to let me leave school without a single exam pass. So I decided to put a smile on the Heads face. Not his actual face. I used a marker pen to draw a big toothy grin on his portrait hanging in the entrance hall.
He was more than happy to let me leave then.
I swore never to wear short trousers again and immediately got told off for swearing by the Head because I was still standing in the entrance hall.
I don’t even wear shorts when holidaying in warmer climes. Walking to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro in seventy degree heat is definitely one of the world’s warmer climes...
So, last week I was enjoying a large flat white and a small squashed muffin in a well-known coffee shop and in walked a man old enough to know better, wearing shorts and sandals.
It was pouring with rain outside...a cold wind was whipping leaves around...and I was wearing my waterproof coat , thick cords, boots and a baffled expression.
Why would this man walk around, unselfconsciously, wearing shorts in November?
I’ll tell you why. Because he’s not alone!
It’s crept in during the last few years. Grown men who insist on wearing shorts in all weathers.
Their pale, bony knees pointing at us from beneath short shorts. Long shorts. Baggy shorts. Saggy shorts. Khaki shorts. Larky shorts.
Put them away, you idiots.
They’ll still be wearing shorts when it’s so cold, Jack Frost might start nipping at something more painful than their nose...
So what convinces a man that it’s okay to walk out of his front door, in the middle of winter, wearing shorts? Assuming that he’s not on heavy medication.
It’s not a fashion statement because their shiny football tops reveal they think being co-ordinated means being able to walk and talk at the same time. Which, to be fair, many of them can do.
Perhaps they think “I’m hard, me!
Whether I’m cold, wet or in intensive care, these shorts are staying on ‘til April!”, so on their behalf I looked up ‘Macho’ in the newspaper writers secret dictionary and here’s the definition.
MACHO: A MAN WHO THINKS WEARING SHORTS IN WINTER IS A GOOD LOOK.
HE’S SADLY MISTAKEN...
Until the next time....
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Has the world gone mad?
I paid a visit to a local hospital this week. I almost couldn’t find the doors to get in due to the thick fog that had descended around the main entrance. For once, this one couldn’t be blamed on the Welsh weather.
Patients in wheelchairs, many with drips attached, a few with newly amputated limbs, smoking.
Every visitor had to walk through them as they came in. I think I must have passively smoked about 4 cigarettes as I walked passed.
Could this be a huge factor in the NHS being under so much financial pressure?
Surely, it’s about time we all started taking responsibility for our own health?
Stats from 2014 show that smoking related diseases, costs the NHS approx £2 billion each year. In 2009, spending on cardiovascular disease caused by smoking cost £205.8 million.
A drug that can offer some women with advanced breast cancer nearly six months of extra life has been turned down for use in the NHS because of its high cost.
It doesn’t seem like rocket science to work out where I think the money should be going, what about you?
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Do you remember the days before mobile phones? No? Let me remind you. You need some shopping, you write your shopping list. Off you go to the supermarket.
Now, think back – what used to happen when your other half, back in the house, remembered something else that you had forgotten?
Back then, it was tough luck. Nowadays, the aisles of our supermarkets are filled with people with their mobile phones welded to their ears, repeating what they can see on the shelves back to mission control in the house.
“I’m standing by the eggs”...”yes, they are organic”...”no, they are medium” ... “no, they are not from caged hens”....”Yes, that ARE from Wales....” No, I don’t know what the chickens names were” !!!
Life was so much easier when you were out of reach.
Has anyone ever got back to the car, loaded all the shopping into the boot and THEN got the phone call that something else was needed?
Here is the real question – has anyone pretended they had actually left the supermarket car park to avoid having to go back in for the forgotten item?
Ah, ok, just me then!
----------------------
You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales
And while his Narnia books were written for children, old C.S. knew what he was talking about.
As soon as my voice started to break and I realised that I could have more fun with girls than pulling their hair and pinching them on the odd occasion, I swapped my short trousers for long trousers.
Actually, to be truthful, because I didn’t know any better, for the first three months I wore my long trousers over my short trousers. I was such an idiot at 19.
I really was an idiot, because I was still in the Fourth Form. The Head was unhappy with me and refused to let me leave school without a single exam pass. So I decided to put a smile on the Heads face. Not his actual face. I used a marker pen to draw a big toothy grin on his portrait hanging in the entrance hall.
He was more than happy to let me leave then.
I swore never to wear short trousers again and immediately got told off for swearing by the Head because I was still standing in the entrance hall.
I don’t even wear shorts when holidaying in warmer climes. Walking to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro in seventy degree heat is definitely one of the world’s warmer climes...
So, last week I was enjoying a large flat white and a small squashed muffin in a well-known coffee shop and in walked a man old enough to know better, wearing shorts and sandals.
It was pouring with rain outside...a cold wind was whipping leaves around...and I was wearing my waterproof coat , thick cords, boots and a baffled expression.
Why would this man walk around, unselfconsciously, wearing shorts in November?
I’ll tell you why. Because he’s not alone!
It’s crept in during the last few years. Grown men who insist on wearing shorts in all weathers.
Their pale, bony knees pointing at us from beneath short shorts. Long shorts. Baggy shorts. Saggy shorts. Khaki shorts. Larky shorts.
Put them away, you idiots.
They’ll still be wearing shorts when it’s so cold, Jack Frost might start nipping at something more painful than their nose...
So what convinces a man that it’s okay to walk out of his front door, in the middle of winter, wearing shorts? Assuming that he’s not on heavy medication.
It’s not a fashion statement because their shiny football tops reveal they think being co-ordinated means being able to walk and talk at the same time. Which, to be fair, many of them can do.
Perhaps they think “I’m hard, me!
Whether I’m cold, wet or in intensive care, these shorts are staying on ‘til April!”, so on their behalf I looked up ‘Macho’ in the newspaper writers secret dictionary and here’s the definition.
MACHO: A MAN WHO THINKS WEARING SHORTS IN WINTER IS A GOOD LOOK.
HE’S SADLY MISTAKEN...
Until the next time....
----------------------
Has the world gone mad?
I paid a visit to a local hospital this week. I almost couldn’t find the doors to get in due to the thick fog that had descended around the main entrance. For once, this one couldn’t be blamed on the Welsh weather.
Patients in wheelchairs, many with drips attached, a few with newly amputated limbs, smoking.
Every visitor had to walk through them as they came in. I think I must have passively smoked about 4 cigarettes as I walked passed.
Could this be a huge factor in the NHS being under so much financial pressure?
Surely, it’s about time we all started taking responsibility for our own health?
Stats from 2014 show that smoking related diseases, costs the NHS approx £2 billion each year. In 2009, spending on cardiovascular disease caused by smoking cost £205.8 million.
A drug that can offer some women with advanced breast cancer nearly six months of extra life has been turned down for use in the NHS because of its high cost.
It doesn’t seem like rocket science to work out where I think the money should be going, what about you?
-----------------------
Do you remember the days before mobile phones? No? Let me remind you. You need some shopping, you write your shopping list. Off you go to the supermarket.
Now, think back – what used to happen when your other half, back in the house, remembered something else that you had forgotten?
Back then, it was tough luck. Nowadays, the aisles of our supermarkets are filled with people with their mobile phones welded to their ears, repeating what they can see on the shelves back to mission control in the house.
“I’m standing by the eggs”...”yes, they are organic”...”no, they are medium” ... “no, they are not from caged hens”....”Yes, that ARE from Wales....” No, I don’t know what the chickens names were” !!!
Life was so much easier when you were out of reach.
Has anyone ever got back to the car, loaded all the shopping into the boot and THEN got the phone call that something else was needed?
Here is the real question – has anyone pretended they had actually left the supermarket car park to avoid having to go back in for the forgotten item?
Ah, ok, just me then!
----------------------
You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales
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