by Maureen Dowd
Donald Trump gives me an interview, though he has his doubts.
“I would like the interview to be in the Sunday paper,” he says.
He can’t be worried about his exposure, so it must be his boundless appetite for bigger/taller/glitzier that makes him yearn for the larger readership of Sunday.
“Me, too,” I reply. “But the only way that’s going to happen is if I give Frank Rich my notes and let him write the column.”
“I like Frank Rich,” he says, his voice brimming with appreciation for a man whose circulation is bigger than mine.
“Me, too,” I say.
. . . When I call De Trop Trump at Mar-a-Lago, he’s still ranting about “that big, fat slob Rosie O’Donnell.” When he granted Tara Conner, the naughty beauty queen, a second chance this week, Rosie made a crack on “The View” about an oft-married snake-oil salesman not being the best person to pass moral judgments. He slimed back, and the Great American Food Fight was on. . .
How about those other international party girls, the Bush twins?
“When you’re a president who has destroyed the lives of probably a million people, our soldiers and Iraqis who are maimed and killed — you see children going into school in Baghdad with no arms and legs — I don’t think Bush’s kids should be having lots of fun in Argentina,” he says.
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Bush Maureen Dowd Trump War of Words Politics Rosie O'Donnel News Bush Twins Iraq War
