past habitat re-miss 001 -- Kuwait, circa 1989(?)

I found lots of post-war damage-suffered images of Kuwait and located the hotel housing, and possibly an other hotel where I recall my mother plus a host of other expat women (only women for some reason) participating in a build-your-own-raft & race-it activity -- it was called the SAS hotel, I don't think that is in reference to that british special military unit, or is that something else, honestly I don't know what to know I think, I'm caught in remiss -- , hotel, where where my mother and other mothers engaged in raft racing, and I roamed the sea-front and noted this sewage pipe where excrement was flowing from a pipe, and small fish were nibbling on the excrement as it journeyed, as it were, further to the sea, or is it the ocean, where, in the near-distance, my mother's raft was breaking up, and everyone became adrift in the water, giggling very likely, almost certainly all the expat mothers were quite solidly drunk and had been for some time.

I did not venture into the sea/ocean that day. There was a pool I suppose. Why were children not allowed to participate in the raft-build-and-race? We would likely have done a far better job. We were not drunk in those days.

Gained a sponsored by "7-up" massive T-shirt I used as a nightie it was so large, for forseeable future (I weighed half what I should, by virture of worms) (very comfy the lose nightie child clothing) in the grace zone of somewhat-a-nightie frolic at bedtimes and sleep reasonably well I suppose/ All was still well those days, perhaps. Water was wet, etc/ the sun shone, having no alternative etc/ I have been studying how I may compare etc / magic casements, opening on the foam /

I have neglected to show the images out of respect and worry about being respectful (hence out of respect) because the things are serious aren't they and this blog is frivolous isn't it, mostly, in tone, on purpose, for the most part, I think

if you open the above linked page, the first two photos on the left should be the SAS hotel where the above epic things occurred, and maybe I received a 7-up in can form along with the aforementioned 7-up overlarge t-shirt nightie, as in: there was something promotional going on. It would make sense. But we have learnt haven't we, over the time since, things that would make sense to occur, do, necessarily, not (occur) -- the next photos are of the hotel were I lived a short while, with the reuter machinery etc, before all that damage you see was done.

I have asked my drunk, floundering mother (it's a joke) if she has any imagery of this place, that era. Let us wait and see.

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