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Puffy Wet Lips

There's this guy who lives across the streetwhen he is coming long before he turns off
from us who we have renamed Wet Lips. When wethe main road and onto our street. Then he
are in a really lighthearted mood, we refercuts the wheels suddenly to the left in
to him as Puffy Wet Lips. This gomer is indirectly front of our window and doesn't so
his late 60's to early 70' and has a bodymuch drive into the parking space as flies
like Mr. McGoo and lips like Angelinainto it as though shot out of a rocket
Jolie's. I mean they are two huge puffy redlauncher. Then, he backs up. Then he goes
and unnatural things that look like a pair offorward. Then he backs up. Then he goes
slugs. I keep waiting for them to take off inforward. Then he backs up. Then he goes
a race around his little head at any moment.forward. He does this exactly five times.
Actually, he looks more like that toadyAnd, each time he backs up, he comes within
little man with the horned-rimmed glasses andinches of our bedroom window and fills our
freaky, scratchy voice who used to be onhouse with carbon monoxide. Once he is
LateNight with David Letterman and whose nameObsessively- Compulsively satisfied that the
I can never remember. Anyway, Wet Lips drivescar is snugly into his slot, then he hammers
this ancient VW Bug on which he has todown on the accelerator while foraging about
rebuild the engine each Saturday. I think itfor one of those red-barred things that lock
had to be one of the very first Volkswagensthe steering wheel up so no one will steal
Bugs every built. Somehow, he got it intohis machine of asphyxiating death. (As if
Mexico after taking it from Hitler rightsomeone would want his bomb that belches
after the war or something like that. Wetfoul-smelling blue smoke!) All the while,
Lips keeps running this "car" when he shouldLarry Lead-Foot is hammered down on the gas
show some humanitarian kindness and have itpedal and we, well, we start walking all
put down. Wet Lips drives this car endlessly,wobbly, start falling down a lot, and begin
relentlessly, and stupidly. We live on theseeing things that are not there. I have got
end of a dead-end street and "Puffy," as weto suppress the urge to go outside, drag him
are wont to call him, comes in and out of hisfrom his car, and hold his mouth over the
little cochera (carport) dozens upon dozensexhaust pipe and screech like a madman,
of times a day. The man is a maniac. No one"How's that tasting for you, Puffy?" I truly
has to use a car that often anywhere or fordo not get what possessed Mexicans in this
anything that many times a day. But, hetown to get cars in such
evidently has many places to go and manyenvironmental-destroying abundance. Those who
people to see each day. When he makes hishave cars, and sometimes more than one, are
frequent trips, we always know it because hebeginning to have the same obesity problems
parks the Blue Beetle right in front of ourthat Americans, Canadians and now many
bedroom window. Here is how the man parks hisEuropeans are suffering. They will get into a
car. His little carport is exactly threecar to drive two hundred yards all in the
meters in front of our bedroom window. Wename of "Car Ownership Convenience" when they
know this distance for a fact because onecould walk! So badly is car ownership coveted
time, last summer, someone tried to blow up athat the payoff for having a car far
taxi across from our window by setting it onoutweighs affording their kids clean air and
fire and that's what motivated us to takea healthier body by walking rather than
scientific measurements. The flaming taxi wasmotoring.  That  is  a  mystery  to  me!
right next to Wet Lips' car. Nothing happened
to the VW (unfortunately) but the cab wasDoug Bower is the author of "A Walk Through
toast. So, here comes Wet Lips tearing up theMexico's Crown Jewel: A Guanajuato
street at speeds no one should be able toTravelogue.
drive a VW, but he does anyway. My wife knows



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