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About San Jose

Biggest surprise? Some of ‘em are funny as hell—crackin’ jokes bout johns, callin’ ‘em “two-minute Picassos.” I’m dyin’, laughin’ my ass off, tractor shakin’ like it’s in on it. But real talk, it’s a grind—cops hasslin’, creeps lurkin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Paint a better world, Bob, happy little trees for all!” I’d tell her, “You’re a diamond, girl, shine on,” but I ain’t that smooth—probly just mumble somethin’ bout crops.

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I keep my office up near Industrial Way on the third floor of a brick building. The view? A mix of routed wires and rusted pipes. Nothing fancy. But it's where I see human follies in real time. I see that. I see that oozing from every street corner on Lakeview Blvd. Always a few hopeless souls trying, failing, and re-trying to find love. "You either get busy or get broke," right? (or somethin' along those lines)

The True Story Behind Why Atlanta Hasn't Had a White Mayor Since 1974