Monday, December 31, 2012


The ball at Times Square isn't the only thing dropping today, and if you don't believe me, just ask Señior Droopy, an anonymous newcomer who lowered the boom at 7th and Montana this morning with a surprising Wardrobe Malfunction.  One minute he was schlumping his way passed the espresso machine, wearing the kind of loose-fitting pants that never seem to go out of style these days, and the next -- "wham!" -- his pants fell to the floor exposing his underwear for all to see.  "There's something you don't see every day," I said, quietly whipping out my Spycam.  Señior Droopy, for his part, took the incident in stride.  He kept walking towards the condiments bar as if nothing had happened, dragging his pants behind him.  I'll say one thing, if anyone deserves to ring in the New Year with a couple of belts, it's him ...!

Sunday, December 30, 2012


Eyes were popping yesterday at 7th and Montana as a tourist couple spent nearly 30-minutes examining every mug on display at Our Favorite Starbucks.  They didn't buy anything, not even a cup of coffee.  They just scrutinized each and every mug in the store at length.  I couldn't understand their conversation (I think they were from India), but my guess is that it was a nearly endless loop that went something like this:

Husband:  Ahhh, here is an interesting mug.
Wife:  Let me see.  No.  It's all wrong.  I don't want anything that has the Starbucks logo on it.  That would be tasteless.
Husband:  OK, let's look at this one, instead.

I don't know what prompted them to finally leave.  Maybe their cup runneth overtime ...?

Thursday, December 27, 2012


Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Mew-sick Man, a local Hep Cat who has been walking around the neighborhood all week blasting out tunes on his harmonica and sounding a lot like a cat in heat.  "Sheesh," said Kathy, "He must have got that harmonica for Christmas."  Indeed, no one would accuse him of having owned it for any length of time.  It was attached to his neck via a metallic clip, the kind professionals use to hold the instrument in place while they sing.  And while he wasn't exactly singing, he could be heard belting-out two words to passersby at three-minute intervals:  "Foxxxxxy Lady!"  All I can say is, if this was his Christmas gift, I wish Santa had brought the rest of us ear plugs!

Wednesday, December 26, 2012


It was Happy Holidaze at 7th and Montana yesterday as an Anonymous Fashion Plate stumbled-into Our Favorite Starbucks wearing a paisley shirt and shorts atop a pair of bright blue 'camouflage' slacks.  "That's some camouflage outfit," I said, "Looks like he's trying to blend-in ... with a Jackson Pollock painting!"  Who knows, maybe he got the ensemble as a holiday gift?  Halloween, that is! 

Monday, December 24, 2012


Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a louse.  That's because the louse was camped out at 7th and Montana.  An Anonymous Shutterbug made the scene today, intent on taking Spycam photos of passersby when he thought no one was looking.  The nerve of some people.  Where, I ask you, is his sense of common decency?!?  Besides, doesn't he know this corner is taken ...?

Sunday, December 23, 2012


It was Death by Chocolate at 7th and Montana this morning as an Anonymous Evildoer left an open box of gourmet chocolates at an empty table and fled the scene.  "Want one?," asked a passerby.  "You must be drunk on Blitzen Juice," I said, "Those things are probably poisonous to the touch.  God knows what they've been laced with."  And so, the chocolates sat there all morning as table-after-table of customers drew the same conclusion.  Not even Forrest Gump would touch them with a ten-foot pole.  Finally, one Good Samaritan threw them in the trash, but minutes later they mysteriously re-appeared at the same empty table.  Trust me, one bite of these holiday treats and Yule be sorry ...!

Friday, December 21, 2012


The world didn't end today, but that was little consolation for anyone sitting near 'Mr. Megaphone,' a man who spoke so loudly and for so long on his cell phone this morning that his voice had folks in the Mayan capital of Teothiwacan running for cover.  Every few minutes he let out a belly laugh worthy of Jabba the Hutt.  "Please," I begged, "Let the world end now!"  But it didn't.  He just went on and on.  I even tried fighting fire with fire by blasting him with the "Laugh Track" app on my Spycam.  Nothing worked.  Oh well, I guess you could say it made my morning a real scream!

Thursday, December 20, 2012


When the going gets tough, the tough get going.  And if you don't believe me, just ask the Guru, the all-knowing local eccentric with a pipeline to the Gods.  "Disturbing news is afoot," he said this morning with a wink, "Get a load of this."  He plopped a local newspaper on my table and pointed to a banner headline reading, "Moody's Downgrades Santa Monica."  "Yikes," I said, "I don't know what bothers me more, this headline or the Pending Apocalypse."  "They're related, my friend," he replied, "Everything is related."  And with that, he whipped out his cell phone and proceeded to carry on what sounded like a lengthy conversation with a real estate broker.  "It's time to liquidate," he said, "Sell, sell, sell ...!"

Monday, December 17, 2012


The stars were out at 7th and Montana yesterday, but I was so engrossed in the Sunday crossword I hardly noticed.  The fun began when a friendly woman took an interest in the fact that Gen, Kathy and I were working separately on the same crossword.  "Do you always do the crossword together?," she asked.  "Yes," I grunted, engrossed in Pinocchio's relationship to Geppetto (82-Down).  Gen patiently chatted with the woman, explaining that the crossword has become something of a Sunday ritual.  After the woman left, Kathy said, "You know who that was, don't you?  Catherine Keener!"  All I can say is Kathy must have a Keener eye than I do.  Moments later, I finished the crossword, looked up and noticed that Ben Affleck had made the scene.  Kathy wished him luck with Argo.  I wished I had another crossword ...!

Sunday, December 16, 2012


Holy Moly, Folks ... I go away for two weeks on business and come back to find Big Changes at 7th and Montana:  They've added buns to the menu.  Eyes were popping yesterday as a parade of buns in skin-tight Lycra bobbed and jiggled their way up and down 7th Street.  Take the woman pictured above.  She squeezed herself into such a tight fit I was afraid she might pop.  "The problem," said Gen, "Is that there's a gap near her waist."  "There's also a Gap on the Third Street Promenade," I replied, "Maybe she should go there for a nice pair of jeans ...!"

Saturday, December 1, 2012


If you think Mo's "Donut Theft" at 7th and Montana was bad, wait till you hear what happened yesterday near the Starbucks at 15th and Montana.  I made the scene yesterday afternoon at about noon to pick up some lunch, only to find traffic blocked by multiple fire engines, at least six police cars and two ambulances.  I whipped out my spycam and started asking questions.  "What happened?," I asked.  "Some thieves walked into a jewelry shop, broke all the display cases and then maced all the employees," said one witness.  "Oh," I replied, shocked.  This kind of thing doesn't happen often on Montana.  Even our so-called "bank heist" years ago was really just a harmless crackpot who handed the teller at Wachovia a note with a smiley face on it and told her to "have a nice day."  "The thieves were armed and got away on foot," the witness continued, "Police are combing the neighborhood right now trying to find them."  "Bye, bye," I replied, putting away my spycam and walking in the opposite direction.  There's a fine line, my friends, between simple blog coverage and a gun-toting, mace wielding felon and I wasn't about to cross it.  According to local CBS News, the actual theft took place at 17th and Marguerita, where armed assailants stole a backpack filled with nearly $300,000 worth of diamond and gold jewelry from a pair of 'carriers' who were transporting it from the shop on Montana to a showing at a private residence.