Easy come, easy go

Now that  the orange clown has left Puerto Rico and is about to insert his moronic persona on the tragedy of  Las Vegas, I am happy to report  that Thor and his Scandi bimbettes (see previous post) have left. Time for the new in the quasi Airbnb apt building I’m in, the same place my real estate agent told me you could only rent for a minimum of 2 months. This time it’s a classic loud Egyptian family. Baba looks like a gamoosa sat on his face, and Mama has a stomach that must be a waist size 50. A Daughter is with them of course, and two pain-in-the-ass noisy grand children. Mama and Daughter have their hair wrapped up in these kind of Indian turbans, for modesty, yeah, and are wearing these black spandex leggings than only emphasize how fucking fat they are, which maybe they can’t see because of the overwrap designer sunglasses they are wearing. So off goes this lovely family on a stroll, which lasted maybe 30 seconds, then they all came back, huffing and puffin’ from the heat, and making all the usual unnecessary noise baladi Egyptians are so fond of. Pretty sure not the last I will be hearing or seeing of this crew. Meanwhile, speaking of  being fat, which I was when I arrived, and still am, well, my khaki cargoes are starting to fall off me. I brought 5 of them with me, ranging 42 to size 34 waist. I would guess that I am now still hovering between 40 and 42, but it sure it closer to the former.  So 2 inches off my wait in 2 weeks. Not bad. That is what 1 meal a day and will do. Yesterday I went Downtown Gouna in hopes of dining at the Turkish resto, but no WIFI there, so no go, and alas the Lebanese place was empty and closing early, so I sat, in the hard blowing evening wind, is some Italian restaurant called Amigo, or something like that, ordered lasagna, which was served after a 20 minutes wait.  This lasagna was unlike anything I have ever seen, a combination of mashed together bread, sauce, some vague meat, but no pasta. I say it again: stick to Middle Eastern food, Gouna, you cannot cook foreign dishes for shit. You do not know your ass from your elbow when it comes to serving up Italian food in particular, so stop it. This carbo crapola extravaganza cost 150 LE with the water, and then I went home, and right to sleep, which was possible since the Three Meinheers are not starting up with their asshole “chill music” at Club Doodoo till 11PM on Thursday night. So with the food being such as it is here, I am losing weight fast, and this is what I wanted.  Tom Petty, man. Everyone my age is dying off, and if I want to make it to 70, I have to lose about 60 lbs, and replace the globules of fat all over my body with muscle. This is starting to happen. My knees, I notice are getting stronger, and now I can out fast walk most strollers along Abut Tig, but then of course they are only strolling. It is a start. The biggest concern physically is the back. My initial issue there was my lower back from carrying all my luggage when the driver didn’t show up at 3:30AM at Hurghada airport as agreed 2 Sundays ago. I had to lug my shit all over the exit area looking for him and it took my lower back for a loop. Eventually the fucker showed up, but it took about a week for my lower back not to hurt like hell, but then, because of the crappy mattress in this rental from hell the muscles about a third of the way down my spine, between my shoulder blades, now feel like someone stabbed me there. It looks like I shall have to start sleeping on the bare floor, because the pain’s almost unbearable, which will toughen me up more, and is what the character in the story I am writing does for a year. Still I am losing weight, and getting stronger by the day, and when I get to around 220 lbs, and heat dips below 30 during the day, whichever comes first, I shall start to push myself, and push some more, until all the fucking fat globules are gone from my body. And that’s a promise. I will only start diving at 200lbs, which is still over 10lbs my normal dive weight in the late 90s, when I could achieve neutral buoyancy and hover at 100 feet with only 5 lbs on my weight belt. I intend to get there again by Jan 2018. No foolin’. Uh, wait a second, did remember to bring my PADI card? I will end with this.  Why are there no fresh fish restaurants in Gouna? It’s all you have in Dahab, beautiful, cheap, just-caught Red Sea fish… but here, no. I must have missed it, but I cannot find a single one in Abu Tig marina. Very fishy indeed.


3 thoughts on “Easy come, easy go

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