Puerta Puerta

Some Mexican boys swim nude at the port. Big Tom licks his lips. "I smell chicken" he says with a smile. Sweat glistens on his leathery wrinkled forehead. Some of 'em like a big natural man like Tom, heathenous old pervert that he is. Smell of cattle-prod and Aqua-Velva. There's something about an Aqaua Velva man. There sure is...he STINKS.

Pack your suitcas for Puerta Vallarta, my dear. It's going to be a long night.We travel down along the gypsum road past cactus and cattle and red rock and sleeping cowboy. Hello?! Anybody here? Wind whistles through ghosttowns and dusty tumbleweeds blow by. Ahhhh...smell those WEEDS! Annoying city boy squeels, belly out and hands in pockets. He looks just like Harry Potter, glasses and all. We'll feed him to the Indians later, I tell my crew. It's always good to keep them appeased with a sacrifice now and then. They agreed in a mumbling way but I could tell they all wanted to have sex with him first. I smoked my cigar and squinted in the midday sun.