Donald’s character best told in his own gibberish

The time limits in the Republican debate didn’t allow Donald Trump to explain himself fully. That gave him no choice but to cut short his answer to the question about the straight talk he delivers whenever he leaves Mexicans alone long enough to talk about women. What follows is a sample of what he left out, drawn from real snippets in his life (he will surely publish “The Art of Love” soon), as well as his very contemporary reflections on how misunderstood he now is.

Megyn thought she put together a great collection of my best women quotes: “fat pig,” “dog,” “slob,” “disgusting animal.” What a sloppy job. She missed my favorite — when I went to a party in 1990 for a foundation honoring one of my top casino executives, who’d died in a helicopter crash and, in my remarks, noted that the daughter of one of the men at the party was celebrating her 14th birthday, I said: “You shouldn't mess with her — 14 will get you 20.” I have always gone a long way to prove I’m not politically correct.

I was also just joking back in 2006 when I said on “The View” that “If Ivanka wasn’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.” If Megyn doesn't like that either, maybe I'll stop being so nice to her.

Some people think I’ve already stopped being nice to her, just because of that blood-from-wherever comment. I think hormones should pick partners, not Presidents, and all of hers were on fire at the debate. Megyn looks a bit like my old sweetheart Marla Maples.

Maybe she wants a taste of the best sex Marla ever had, according to the headlines. That could explain the hissy fit whenever Megyn sees me. When Marla and I really got it going (it was the best sex she ever had), I put Ivana in charge of the Trump Castle in Atlantic City so I could hang out with my Georgia Peach all week. When Ivana came back to New York, I’d head down to AC with Marla. Friends called it the “Asbury Park marriage” because that’s where Ivana’s helicopter and mine passed in the night.

And talk about binders full of women, I left Mitt in the dust. I peddled a spread to Playboy called “The Girls of Trump,” offering my best-looking staffers.

I told one interviewer that I “walk down and get hit on by everybody in the city,” and that I turned down a thousand. “You take one out of 1,000 a few times a year, you know you’re pretty good.”

When I did my last post-nup with Ivana in 1987, I gave her more money but removed one tiny clause, so when she moved for divorce and alleged that I’d been catting around, my lawyers could say: “continuing love and affection was not a material part of the 1987 agreement.” Talk about the Art of the Deal!

During the divorce battle, I repossessed a four-year Mercedes I gave her even though the license plate was “IVANA.”

I even tried to put per-kid bonuses in Ivana’s pre-nup. She took it out, but I had all the leverage in the post-nup in 1987, just like I said I had “a lot of leverage” on the first question, when Bret Baier tried to nail me down on another kind of commitment. Wait until the RNC sees my post-nup terms if they want to get out of this marriage!

After our divorce, Marla auctioned off 150 of our personal items, including a watercolor portrait from our wedding day. I’m such a sweet memory!

Just because I barred one of my lawyers from appearing at a hearing because he was too fat doesn’t mean I hate fat people. Hell, for years, I pigged out deep into the night on burgers, popcorn, milk shakes and Cake Masters. Ate fruit salads at the office to fake everyone out. Got shots from a diet doctor to the stars. That’s a Cake Master in my jowls now. So I prefer talking to a camera these days than looking in a mirror.

I love fat pigs, dogs, slobs and disgusting animals. I love them and they love me. If I am nominated, I will win the fat pig, dog, slob and disgusting animal vote.

Enough about this sexism stuff. America needs a takecharge guy, someone who will lead from on top.

I made a lot of money in Atlantic City and got out long before the total collapse. I can do the same in this campaign. Or maybe in the White House.