Unemployed, perennially confrontational talking head Keith Olbermann aimlessly wandered around Central Park South earlier this week, seemingly looking for a friend or a purpose.
Our spies snapped unflattering pictures of Olbermann decked out in a giant red pullover and clownishly baggy jeans as he strolled 59th Street near Seventh Avenue, smelling the roses — or, in this case, the horse manure, allergens and aromas from a nearby food cart.
Spies said dejected Olbermann parked himself on CPS and stared into space for several minutes before slinking off by himself.
I suppose I should feel sympathetic for the guy. But his performance in public and in private makes it easy to not feel anything at all.