I’m no fan of MoDo, who gives unmarried menopausal women a very bad name, but I have to admit she knocked one out of the hot dog park in poking Rush the Malevolent Blowhard. As she recalled, when they shared a meal at ’21,’ the man of the little people ordered the high-priced fish eggs plus Freedom wine (Corton-Charlemagne, to be precise). Those were the good old days, before he sent the maid to buy the oxycontin. It’s just too bad his peasants can’t read. He’s very smart to infect them with fear of poisoning from the wrong end of the alimentary canal.