BON VOYAGE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was Bon Voyage for Neighbor Susan -- and "all's well that ends well" -- as she returned to Texas today with some good news: The "Nogoodnik" who had taken over her apartment in Santa Monica and refused to reimburse her for the rent finally did the right thing and moved out. Why the sudden change of heart? Rumor has it someone threatened to give him a good kick in the Orbs ...!

JOANN ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA?

It was a case of mistaken identity at 7th and Montana this morning as I searched -- in vain -- for Joann. You see, on Saturday, Joann, who I haven't met in person, left a comment on my blog that she was thinking of swinging by Our Favorite Starbucks on Monday. Thanks to the Blogosphere, I knew that Joann is from Southern California and she has expressed an interest in visiting 7th and Montana. The only problem is, during the work week I'm usually only around for the five-to-eight minutes it takes for someone to do something zany. Today it was me. "Joann?!?," I yelled at various intervals. The only person who sort of responded was Barista Tyler, who poked his head out briefly from behind the Espresso Bar. Who knows ... maybe if he was wearing his Black Fright Wig (pictured below) he could have passed for Joan Jett ...!

BRIDE OF HUMPTY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Humpty Dumpty may have sat on a wall, but his wife -- Mrs. Humpty -- seems obsessed with the curb in front of Our Favorite Starbucks. In fact, she spent what seemed like hours yesterday having mad, passionate sex with it while onlookers gaped in astonishment. "I guess it's mating season at 7th and Montana," said Screenwriter Nat, as Mrs. Humpty arched her back, let out a primeval grunt and thrust her pelvis again and again towards the pavement. Joyce took one look at her and proposed a toast in her honor. "Bottoms up!," she chuckled. As for me, I have a different opinion: I think she's just plain cracked ... but for God's sake, don't let her anywhere near all the king's horses or all the king's men!

A WHINE SPRITZER ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet "Eliot Spritzer," an Anonymous Newcomer who made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning with something to get off his chest. Moments after sitting at a nearby table, he dug deep into the depths of his soul, coughed up a prodigious amount of phlegm and spit it out on the sidewalk. "Uggggh," said Joyce, turning away from the glistening pile as it congealed near 7th Street, "That's something I wish I didn't see." But Mr. Spritzer was oblivious. He merely smiled and asked us to save his seat for him while he went into Starbucks to cough-up $3.75 for a cappuccino. He emerged ten minutes later, renewed, reinvigorated and ready to schmooze-up a storm with the neighborhood dogs. "What a beautiful dog," he said of Charlie, the irascible sheepdog, "What's his name?" "Sam," replied Richard. "Sam, a great name for a dog," said Mr. Spritzer, "Here Sammy ... Come on Sammy Boy. Sammy! Sammy! Sammy ...?!?" The pile of phlegm on the sidewalk was more responsive than Charlie but then, again, Charlie's name isn't Sammy. "What's wrong with this dog? Why is he ignoring me?," asked Mr. Spritzer, irritated. "He doesn't speak Flemish," I said.

BACK FROM TEXAS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Cheers erupted at 7th and Montana this morning as Singer/Actress/Entrepreneur Susan made the scene after spending the last several months in Texas. Actually, she returned under police escort. You see, while she was away, she found a new roommate -- an Anonymous Nogoodnik -- who has been staying in her apartment. Susan paid all the bills -- rent, electricity, cable TV, telephone and etc. -- and the Nogoodnik reimbursed her for the rent. At least that's how it was supposed to work. The Nogoodnik had other ideas. Once he got settled-in, and Susan left for Texas, he stopped reimbursing her. Things came to a head when Susan's sister, who lives nearby, knocked on the door to find out what was going on. "If you want to collect all the rent I owe, you'll have to take me to court," said the Nogoodnik, slamming the door in her face. And so, today Susan made the scene under Police Escort to remove her belongings from the apartment. Unfortunately, no one can remove the Nogoodnik. But if I were him, I'd look out. It's a well-known fact that Susan sees Orbs, little balls of energy that hover around our heads, sometimes protecting us and sometimes not. I, for one, wouldn't blame Susan one bit if she sent a Humongous, Bouncing Orb on a one-way trip up the Nogoodnik's rear end ...!

TAX SEASON ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA

It's Tax Season and you know what that means: The Accountant, known for spreading out his confidential paperwork all over Our Favorite Starbucks, has gone into Overdrive. He made the scene yesterday not only with his usual stack of papers, but with a laptop and a speakerphone, as well. He put one of his clients on speaker and conducted a loud conversation with her about her finances for all to hear. As far as I could tell, the Poor Woman was upset that should couldn't deduct all the costs of her home office on her taxes this year. If that upset her, imagine how she'd feel if she knew she the whole crowd at Starbucks was listening ...!

INK-A-DINK-A-DOO ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Shock waves rippled across 7th and Montana this morning as the Dignified Walking Lady, known for wearing Arctic Attire in 90-degree heat, spoke a few words. "Good God, she speaks," said one astonished witness, "All these years I've assumed she was mute." Indeed, not since Helen Keller broke her radio silence in 1890 have so few words meant so much to so many. And it wasn't just what she said, it was the way she said it. There I was, minding my own business, when she turned to me and -- in a deep, gravelly voice not unlike Jimmy Durante's -- said, "Put that cameraphone away, you punk ... I've had it up to here with you and your silly blog!"