*Click**Flash* *Cha-ching!* Ah…the life of the paparazzo in the City of Angels. Always clicking, constantly stalking, unceasing in their obsession to prowl on the Hollywood meek. But who needs that burly, aggressive, sweaty man with that overly pompous DSLR? Not us. We’ve got THE SCOOP, thank you very much, a new section for our readers to submit their own info on their own terms. Have a pic you took of/with a celebrity? Do you have a scoop that everyone must know? Are you just itching to spill a secret that you shouldn’t tell but will anyway? Well, stop hesitating! Send them over to: info@thepopfix.com and tell those paps to geddada here!

It was just another BUSY Monday brunch at the Hollywood’s Griddle Café on Sunset, and as I stood in line waiting for my “Addicted to Noisella” French toast (a lethal Nutella and French toast concoction under a load of whipped cream), the dewy-eyed girl in front of me turned around to take a worried peek outside the door behind me.

It was none other than Mischa Barton. Dressed in a loose top, jeans, flowery Chuck Taylors and scarf wrapped around her head, the starlet got a booth with a female friend and seemed to be having a pretty normal time.

Until some guy got a table facing her booth and starting asking them questions, frantically texting all his friends at the same time. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the faces of Mischa and her friend instantly turned sour, and they quickly got their bill handled.

The obnoxious guy was still trying to say something to Mischa as she marched past him to exit through the back entrance, and in her fury, she tripped hard on someone’s chair but thankfully didn’t fall.

What did the guy say? Why was Mischa so pissed? Hard to tell, but it was good to see Mischa having a meal (especially at a place notorious for their humongous servings), and in all honesty, she actually looked pretty good to me.