No Beer-Can Crushing Boobies. Sorry

I know where I was supposed to go, but as you all know, plans change. Fast and suddenly. So was the case yesterday. As tempting as it was to see Blondie squeeze our discarded cans of PBR between her un-inflated bosoms, we decided against it. We visited my cousin J’s house, and saw the family for a bit, and met a couple of her friends. One of them, “A”, had an unnatural fear of going home and finding a large black man with a machete waiting for her in her living room. When asked if a large white man with a knife would be different, she admitted it might still be bad…. But fear took the form of a black guy for her. Go figure. Apparently nun-chuck wielding ninjas and gun toting Mexican’s are just not scary enough. Needles to say, she did not come with us, I don’t care how cute she was.

So, the three of us, (J, H, and G) headed to a little area called East Atlanta. A quaint place surrounded by good beer drinking spots and a myriad of personalities that continually add spice to my city. It was three or four bar-hops later that we ran into some folks I haven’t seen in months. It was the perfect finish to a great evening. I saw so many personalities, travelled the city in the company of the folks that I love, and had the opportunity to chat with people which only enrich my life, and the voices of my characters.

It is on nights, weekends, and weeks like these that I find inspiration, true inspiration, to continue my work, and keep writing. I want to write them all into my book, though I know it only make it over crowded. I will, however, write them all in my books. All the ones to come – published or not – I want to capture at least a sliver of the fantastic people I have been so lucky to encounter.

And so I say, with only a small smirk: Thank you Atlanta. Good night.



I'm shocked at how fast I decoded ‘PBR.’ In fact, I think I named the beer the first time I read through your post. Truly scary since I haven't been out drinking in ages.

I need to start jotting down notes as I am out. I always think I'll remember the fun sights, sounds and people but they fade by the time I am sitting in front of my computer.



Wait. Your cousin is "J." You're "Jm," also a "J." But three of you went, but only one of you was "J." I'm confused.

Jm Diaz

PBR is a $2 delicacy!

And I am counting myself, I am "J".. my cousin is "G".

Julie Dao

Nothing like real life to inspire fiction! People watching is great. The best part is, these strangers will never recognize themselves even if you put them in your book.

Yvette Ward-Horner

I can see writing about the girl who is so horribly afraid of black men.


I love your wit. I gave you an award on my blog.

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