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LOGAN HEIGHTS – A stray Belgian Tervuren or something reportedly intercepted a tourist wandering through Southeast San Diego yesterday  afternoon and herded the bewildered man to some of the sweetest spots in town, sources say.

Vinnie Cook, a vacationing bail bondsman from Phoenix, says he was asking an elderly gentleman at Memorial Park for directions to the In-N-Out  Burger when the charismatic canine approached him with a knowing grin and said, “dude, follow me,” in that special unspoken way which only a weathered street mutt can.

“We watched ships in the harbor, ate pizza in Little Italy, and got stone drunk at Cherrybomb,”  Cook relates.  “He made sure I smuggled in a Coke, to water down the all-business cocktails.”

Cook and the canine then grabbed some 40s at a South Park 7-11 and hit up a rad roof spot, where they chain-smoked and talked about their ex-wives and baseball and shit.

The dapper dog never did mention his name, but Cook says he remembers him as Scooter.  “I’ve always wanted  a dog named Scooter,” a choked-up Cook says.  “It’s just a really awesome name.”


Witnesses said Harper was giggling like a school girl as he snapped photos on his mobile phone.

UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS – 27-year-old Greg Harper alleged that a ladybug landed on his leg while he was reading a book at the Trolley Barn Park around noon today.

“At first I thought it was a spider,” said Harper, a graphic designer, “and I hate spiders.  When I realized it was a ladybug, I chilled out and the bug cruised up my calf […] It really tickled!”

The ladybug (also known as the ladybird) is part of the beetle family.

“Eventually I couldn’t take it any longer,” Harper continued.  “I put my hand down and the ladybug crawled up on my finger.  It excreted some foul-smelling yellow stuff onto my thumb, turned around, ate it, and flew away.”

Scientists say that the yellow substance Harper encountered was blood, which ladybugs excrete as a defense mechanism.

KENSINGTON – A barista at a cozy Kensington cafe allegedly called every body “sweetie” and “hun”  as she distributed  hot cups of coffee today.

“It was really unexpected,” said fifteen-year-old Todd LeDuff, who was still grinning wildly from the encounter.  “The day started out kind of sucky, but then the chic behind the counter hit me like a bolt of lightning to the face!”

“She’s such a dear,” said regular Doris Fletchers, 83.  “She’s like one endless hug!”

Scientists are currently studying the effects of Barista Maybelle Suthers’ unbelievably good vibes on her beverages.  Research has shown that her coffee is about 30% bomber than the local mean.  Other data suggests that Suthers’ regulars live on average 15-20 years longer than patrons of the nearby Starbucks.

“That leering beast Starbucks across the street doesn’t stand a chance,” economist Larry Lowenstein conjectured via email.  “They simply can’t match the ineffable warm-fuzzy feeling one gets from barista extraordinaire Maybelle.”

Suthers has been working at various coffee houses for almost eight years and calls it her “dream job.”

“I’ve always loved cappuccinos and the people who drink them,” a radiant Suthers reported.  “These people are like family to me.  It’s really wonderful, really magical.  Know what I mean, hun?”