Crottin, floating

Panchito’s new gig, with which the NYTimes adds insult to the readers’ injury of losing Frank Rich on Sundays, escaped my cranial sieve when I finally got around to posting this week. But I could not have had a more blistering reaction than Eric Alterman did. Who could ever care what the useful idiot had to say about restaurants or booze after he happily sold a dangerous dunce as a good ol’ boy in fuck-me boots? (Even if he did know the McDonald’s near the Spanish Steps so well.) It’s the old gray shuffle, and it will put Ambien out of business.