I PITHY THE FOOL WHO DOUBTS ME ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

The Gossip Mill was working overtime at 7th and Montana this morning as a handful of "nonbelievers" called me to task on some of my recent blog coverage. "Last Thursday, you mentioned something about a Wombat in a Pith Helmet," said one particularly disgruntled reader, "But I've never seen anything like that around here. Frankly, I don't believe you." I was shocked. In the past year, we've seen everything from Jittery Nutcases who treat hot chocolate like a weapon of mass destruction to Superheroes who perform Yoga in the middle of the street with underwear on their head. And some people find it hard to believe there could be a Wombat with a Pith Helmet in our midst?!? Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, here he is -- pictured above -- the Wombat in a Pith Helmet. I rest my mental case ...!

TRAGEDY STRIKES ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA

It was a sad day at 7th and Montana today as word spread that one of our own -- the Local Curmudgeon known among real estate agents across the Southland as "The Notorious Mr. Evil" for his tendency to hide neighborhood Open House signs when he thought no one was looking -- has met an untimely death. According to The Los Angeles Times, Evil -- a prominent lawyer who moonlighted as a comedian at the Ha Ha Cafe -- died on Wednesday after falling from the cliffs above the Incan ruins of Machu Picchu. "We have no idea what he was doing in the Peruvian mountains," said one insider, "Machu Picchu is nearly 8,000 feet above sea level. There couldn't possibly be any Open House signs at that altitude." Evil was no stranger to the Grim Reaper. In 1987, one of his clients stabbed him in the chest with an ice pick during an otherwise routine courtroom appearance in Torrance. "The guy was trying to stab me in the heart," he later quipped, "But in a lawyer it's hard to find." "He was heartless, all right," said one real estate professional. In lieu of a wake, an open house will be held next week on 9th Street.

BARKING MAD ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Sometimes it's tough to tell whether Our Favorite Starbucks is going to the dogs or the dogs are going to Starbucks. Take Reef and Annabelle, Dr. Paul's prized pet Weimareners. Just yesterday they were so anxious to make the scene at 7th and Montana they practically burst out of the Good Doctor's car. Then there's the Amazing Dogboy, an adorable toddler with an Unfortunate Beagle Fixation.

Every day for the past week, Dogboy has arrived at 7th and Montana wearing a Beagle Hat and growling like a mongrel. On Thursday, I overheard his parents arguing over whether or not they should get a real dog. "Come on, honey," said Mrs. Dogboy, absent-mindedly petting her son on the head, "What's wrong with a little puppy?" "No way," insisted Mr. Dogboy, "If we end up getting a dog, I want no part of it. It'll be all yours!" Don't be surprised, folks, if Dogboy's "costumes" start become increasingly elaborate. Now that's what I call a Ruff Childhood ...!

MUSICAL CHAIRS, 7TH AND MONTANA-STYLE ...

It was a game of Musical Chairs this morning at 7th and Montana as the mysterious newcomer known as "Mr. Z" (the Zombie) finally gave up his seat of honor by the Curb from Hell. TV Uber-Mom Meredith Baxter Birney didn't waste any time claiming the seat as her own ... and that's when the fun began. Moments later, Yet Another Unsuspecting Motorist beached his BMW on the curb, scraping his axle on the pavement and -- to the delight of many -- stranding his car on the Island of Lost Auto Parts. Meredith tried to help the driver navigate to safety, but by then the damage was already done.

"These accidents happen all the time," I called to Meredith, "You're sitting in the danger zone." "So I see," she replied. She fled to safety, only to be replaced by Actor Scott Foley, star of CBS-TV's The Unit. On the show, Foley plays a special forces operative who risks his life on globe-trotting, undercover missions ... but the real question is, "Can he survive the Curb from Hell?!?"

AN EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA

It was a busy morning at 7th and Montana today, so much so that I needed expert advice from Screenwriter Nat about what to put in my blog. "I'm torn," I told him, "Should I go with the Wombat in a Pith Helmet or the Amazing Dogboy?" "I don't know how you do it," Nat commented, "If it weren't for your blog, I don't think I'd realize just how many crazies there are around here!" I paused to think of a suitable reply and then -- as if on cue -- the silence was broken by the arrival of Yet Another Loon in our midst. Rigolatte (pictured above), the man known for walking in and out of Our Favorite Starbucks belting out Wagnerian Opera tunes, strolled by practicing his scales. "Seriously," Nat continued, "It's amazing how you just point your cell phone at these people and they don't seem to care or notice." "Just a minute," I replied, "More duty calls." The Boy Named Sue -- our Friendly, Neighborhood Cross-Dresser -- had just arrived, sporting a bold, new look. Gone were the purple poncho, black miniskirt and prosthetic boobs. In their place were a pair of Capri Pants and Dance Shoes. "Wow," said Nat, "I almost didn't recognize him. He looks almost normal today." Yes, Nat, but normal doesn't count at 7th and Montana ...!

A SCANDAL BREWS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

A scandal was brewing along with the coffee at Our Favorite Starbucks this morning but don't ask me what it was all about. It's all Top Secret. The fun began when an Attractive Woman in Black (pictured above, from behind) announced melodramatically, "It's SCANDALOUS, simply SCANDALOUS!" Naturally, I grabbed my spycam and listened closely for details ... but it was all to no avail. "I'll tell you all about it later," she told her friend. "Lady, please," I felt like saying, "You can't just announce that something is SCANDALOUS and drop the subject like that. What am I supposed to tell my readers?!?" And so, I had to settle for quietly taking a photo of her rear end and posting it online, instead. Now that's SCANDALOUS ...!

SOMETHING FISHY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Shock waves rippled across 7th and Montana this morning as the man known locally as the Gorton's of Gloucester Fisherman for his striking resemblance to the Frozen Fish Pitchman turned over a new leaf. Gone were the floppy, yellow fisherman's cap and the ever-present raincoat. In their place was a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a pack of cigarettes. He chain-smoked so much I thought he might disappear in a puff of smoke ... and, indeed, there was something magical about his transformation. It was like watching a glazed over codfish turn into a smoked salmon before my very eyes ...!