SPYCAM MANEUVERS ... IN LONDON!

Greetings from London, where I arrived safe and sound yesterday just in time for dinner, followed by a morning meeting and a quick trip back to Los Angeles (where I land in time for another meeting).  All I can say is I hope I have more privacy at dinner tonight than I did last night.  The woman above was seated at the table next to mine -- with barely three inches between our tables.  I didn't have any problem with it until the check came and I put my credit card on the table.  The restaurant didn't have the usual folder to put a credit card in for security purposes, just a silver tray.  No sooner did I put my card on the tray then the woman whipped out her mobile phone and seemed to point it towards my credit card.  I know a spycam maneuver when I see one, and I think she might have been trying to take a quick photo of my card.  I immediately pulled the tray away from her, turned my card over and whipped out my own Spycam.  Pretending to make a phone call, I said, "Hi, it's me ... just wanted to catch up with you ... did you get the photo?  (brief pause).  Great, isn't it amazing how quickly photos can end up with the authorities these days? ... and thank God for that facial recognition technology.  (brief pause).  Thanks again, will keep you posted."  I'm not sure if she was up to something, but better safe than sorry ...!

DAMSEL IN 'DIS DRESS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the "Damsel in Dis Dress," a Fashion Half Wit who made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning wearing half a dress.  For some reason, the blond bombshell tore off the front part of her dress, leaving the back -- a long gray skirt -- to trail behind her like the caboose in a train wreck.  I'm not sure what she did with the rest of her ensemble, but something tells me it contained the last shred of her fashion sense ...!  

BLAME IT ON THE BEGGIN STRIPS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was raining Sick Puppies at 7th and Montana yesterday and if you don't believe me, just ask Poor Gordo (above left) who made the scene feeling dog tired.  "He's been throwing up and having diarrhea all morning," said Robin, "Here, would you mind watching him while I grab my coffee?"  Rumor has it Gordo had one too many Beggin Strips ... and with an ingredients list that includes "artificial smoke flavor" and mysterious "meat," it's a wonder his head wasn't rotating around like something out of the Exorcist.  That's more than I can say for the other Sick Puppy in our midst, an Anonymous Loon who hovered over his table blasting a transistor radio.  Not only was he playing it at full volume, but he was yelling at it, too.  "I can't take you anywhere!," he screamed.  Something tells me he's heard that line before ...

THE BEST (P)LAID PLANS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the “Plaid-a-pus,” an Unfortunate Fashion Victim who made the scene at 7^th and Montana  on Sunday wearing a clashing plaid pair of baggy pajama bottoms and a plaid top that looked like it was designed by Omar the Tent Maker.  He sauntered up 7^th Street as if it was his own personal catwalk, then – inexplicably – pulled a chair up to the foliage and began communing with nature.  “What do you think?,” I asked Joyce, who had called the Plaid-a-Pus to my attention.  “It’s … just … unseemly,” she replied.  Then, again, she hasn’t seen him on Argyle days …!

THE PIT CREW ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was Ruff Times at 7th and Montana yesterday as an enormous, black SUV made the scene bearing a warning -- "Beware of Pitbull" -- under the driver and passenger side windows.  The driver, a man who looked a lot like Mr. Clean, wasn't kidding, either.  Just as the vehicle pulled up in front of Starbucks, a black sheet which had been covering the passenger side window was swept aside and out popped the head of a pit bull.  The dog eyed the crowd suspiciously and growled.  I'm not sure where they were heading to, but I hope it wasn't anywhere with valet parking ...! 

WHY, WHY, WHY DELILAH ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Cheers erupted at 7th and Montana yesterday as Rigolatte -- the local Opera Loon with a song in his heart and bats in his belfry -- did what he does best.  He locked himself in the Men's Room and belted out a tune.  This time, instead of the usual aria, he channeled Tom Jones.  Moments after slamming the bathroom door, he could be heard crooning "Why, Why, Why, Delilah ...?"  I don't know what Delilah did to him, but he was plenty mad about it.  Each time he got to her name, it sounded as if he was throwing something against the wall.  Who knows, maybe Delilah is a wall flower ...!

THE NIBBLER STRIKES AGAIN ...!

I returned late last night from a trade show in Berlin and, by the looks of it, not a moment too soon.  I quickly stopped at Pavilions on my way home to pick up some provisions, only to find that the "Nibbler" -- a local matron known for grazing her way up and down the produce aisle, nibbling everything she can get her hands on -- was having a field day.  I caught her munching a bunch of grapes.  I whipped out my Spycam to take a few pictures, then had an idea.  Thinking quickly, I connected to my Rhapsody music account, then began streaming the Diana Krall hit "Peel Me a Grape."  I followed her around the produce section for a few minutes while the lyrics "I'm getting hungry, peel me a grape" poured out of my Spycam.  Did it work?  I'm not sure.  The Nibbler simply grabbed what looked like a handful of berries and slowly waltzed her way to the cashier in tune with the music.