Friday, April 29, 2011


“O.K.,” I said. “You’re basically alone. Your wife is still asleep”—he was then married, but not for much longer, to Marla Maples—“you’re in the bathroom shaving and you see yourself in the mirror. What are you thinking?”
From Trump, a look of incomprehension.
Me: “I mean, are you looking at yourself and thinking, ‘Wow. I’m Donald Trump?’”
Trump remained baffled.
Me: “O.K., I guess I’m asking, do you consider yourself ideal company?”
At the time, I deemed Trump’s reply unprintable. But that was then.
Trump: “You really want to know what I consider ideal company?”
Me: “Yes.”
Trump: “A total piece of ass.”

For the rest of the story, click here...


Kim said...

trump is a total piece of ass.
Mr. BH, do you read the new yorker on a regular basis?

bulletholes said...

No, i run across links to New Yorker from time to time at the "Shelton Wet/Dry Blog" and at TYWKIWDBI.
Good sites, those, I need to put hem on my sidebar.
hi kimmy! welcome back!

My word veri for this comment is cutipie!

Kim said...

Huh. Mine is ingpleep. I like yours better