Keep a diary,’ said Mae West, ‘and some day it will keep you.’ I’ve been keeping mine for 30 years, and it’s certainly kept me well in return, providing enough juicy literary fodder for five best-selling books and 630 columns for The Mail On Sunday over the past 15 years.

As any social diarist will tell you, it is best to go home when the party goes on and people want more. . .

So, as I prepare to focus on my new global daily TV show launching in 2022, I’m packing up my gossipy quill and giving the world’s celebrities and public figures a much-needed break from my beady eye.

It won’t be an easy transition into non-diary-writing life.

On Tuesday night, I had dinner with Joan Collins. She told me a story about Boris Johnson’s life and Katie Price. It was so funny that it made my stomach churn.

(You’ll just have to wait for the great lady’s own next volume of diaries to find out what it was …)

But as a farewell, I thought it would be fun to go back over all 630,000 words I’ve penned since writing my first diary back in October 2006 and pick my All-Time Morgan Awards.

As I did so, I realised how bloody lucky I’ve been to have lived such a rich, varied, unpredictable, occasionally dramatic, and always entertaining life.

I hate name-dropping, obviously, but my right hand has now pressed the flesh with Nelson Mandela, the Dalai Lama, the six most important royals of my lifetime (the Queen, Queen Mother, Princess Diana, and Princes Philip, Charles and William), and the most infamous ‘royal’ (Meghan Markle), four U.S. Presidents (Carter, Clinton, Obama and Trump — and I’ve chatted on the phone with a fifth, Biden), seven British Prime Ministers (Thatcher, Major, Blair, Brown, Cameron, May and Johnson), movie legends Jack Nicholson, Meryl Streep, Tom Hanks, Leonardo Di Caprio and George Clooney, music icons Sir Mick Jagger, Sir Paul McCartney, Sir Elton John, Jay-Z, Beyonce, Bono, Barbra Streisand and all three Bee Gees, TV superstars Oprah Winfrey, Simon Cowell and Jerry Seinfeld, radio emperor Howard Stern, sporting greats Muhammad Ali, Usain Bolt, Michael Phelps, Cristiano Ronaldo, Serena Williams, Sir Steve Redgrave, Sir Ian Botham and Sir Lewis Hamilton, reality TV queens Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton, business moguls Rupert Murdoch, Warren Buffett and Jeff Bezos, my football team Arsenal’s three greatest players (Dennis Bergkamp, Thierry Henry and Patrick Vieira) and 32 England cricket captains.

I’m fairly certain only MY right hand can make this claim.

And I’ve found it an enthralling and fascinating experience to hang out with the most famous, significant people of my lifetime.

The Prince of Wales speaks with Mr Piers Morgan at Buckingham Palace 14/05/2004

At Buckingham Palace, the Prince of Wales talks to Mr Piers Morgan 14/05/2004

As Sinatra sang, I’ve travelled each and every highway, had times when I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, loved, laughed and cried, had my share of losing, but found it all so amusing, and I have no regrets at doing things my way, for what is a man if not himself?

Or, more succinctly, as Sinatra also sang: ‘You gotta love living, baby, ‘cos dying’s a pain in the a**.’

These are then my All-Time Morgan Awards.

Careless columnist sniping is eligible for the “embrace death” award

The days I spent writing diaries almost came to an abrupt halt. Dining in 2009 at the Beverly Wilshire hotel’s Cut restaurant in LA, I found myself at the table next to Bruce Willis, then 54, and his new British bride, Victoria’s Secret model Emma Heming, then 30.

In my next column, I branded them a ‘ludicrous couple’, and wrote: ‘The most striking thing about young Emma is that she’s the absolute dead spit of Demi Moore at the same age. Proof that if you’re a Hollywood millionaire superstar living in Tinseltown then you really can achieve every man’s secret dream — to reverse the ageing, and relationship-maturing, process and have the woman you first fell in love with, and married, all over again.’

Three weeks later, Cut was my second stop. I was sitting at the same table and, when I looked to my left, Bruce Willis, Emma, and their respective tables were staring back at me.

Instantly, my spine cord was frozen.

Bruce stood and began to walk over.

‘You’re Piers, right?’ he asked.

‘Erm, yes. I am.’

Silence for several second

‘You OK?’ he asked, with all the warmth of Michael Corleone kissing his treacherous brother and whispering: ‘I know it was you, Fredo.’

‘Erm, yes. Thank you.’

‘Good, good. That’s good.’

‘How are you, Bruce?’

‘I’m good. It’s very good. Thank you. Have you met my wife, Emma?’

‘Erm, no, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.’

She smiled and said hi.

Bruce turned his back on me. ‘I just want to say something to you, Piers: EMBRACE DEATH.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘To live your life to the full, you must embrace death.’

‘I see. Do I have to embrace it?

‘I don’t know yet.’

Bruce got up and sat down once more. I asked him urgently to give me a bottle of wine that could save his life.

Bruce nodded as he perused the list and finally settled for a Chateau Margaux at $400.

I was greeted by two tequila-slammers minutes later.

I looked at Bruce who beseeched: ‘Inhale, exhale, then down in one. EMBRACE DEATH!’

I smiled, as he did.

Then two more tequila slammers arrived, with the same entreaty from Mr Willis: ‘Inhale, exhale! EMBRACE DEATH!’

‘I will if this carries on,’ I slurred, but downed them again.

He laughed. Menacingly.

The time had come to put out the fire so I gave him tequila. He hesitated.

‘Go on,’ I urged, ‘are you man or mouse?’

Emma giggled, Bruce didn’t.

After he had finished his tequila, he sent out two massive Sexy Alligator cocktails: Malibu, Midori and raspberry schnapps. Jagermeister was also included.

‘EMBRACE DEATH!’ Bruce exclaimed, and I nearly did, given how strong they were.

When he went to the loo, Emma told me: ‘I’ve been a fan of yours for years, I was so disappointed with what you wrote about us.’

She seemed a lovely lady and on closer inspection, didn’t look much like Demi at all.

My previous column died at every level.

I just hoped I wasn’t going to as well. ‘Do you still want to kill me, Bruce?’ I asked when he returned and prepared to leave.

‘Probably not,’ he replied. ‘This has been fun.’

‘If you do, I know exactly how I’ll die,’ I said.

‘Oh yeah?’ Bruce replied. ‘How?

‘Hard. I’ll Die Hard.’

Then he stared again at me, before giggling. ‘That’s funny. Are you going to write about this as well?’

‘Of course.’

He laughed, shook his head and left. I was able to continue telling a tall tale.

Celebrities with the most fascinating boasts

During a delightful chat with Gwyneth Paltrow at an Oscars party in 2011, I joked: ‘I didn’t realise you were this nice.’

‘Oh, I’m very, very nice, Piers,’ she purred.


‘Except in the bedroom.’

Gwyneth Paltrow 'Avengers: Infinity War' film premiere, Arrivals, Los Angeles, USA - 23 Apr 2018

Gwyneth Patrow’s “Avengers: Infinity War” film premiere, Arrivals Los Angeles, USA, 23 Apr 2018.

Writers who write epitaphs best

Sir Michael Parkinson described me thus: ‘Piers, you’re proactive, fearless . . . and sometimes you’re a total twerp.’ I’ll take that.

Worst job opportunity

I didn’t think anything could be less appealing than ‘Celebrity Shark Bait’ where I was offered £100,000 to be lowered inside a cage into a South African sea full of deadly Great Whites.

(‘What happens if the cage breaks open?’ I asked. ‘Great TV!’ came the response.)

However, I was offered a much larger check to pretend my own death. And you can witness the reaction of the entire world.

‘This needs to be very hush-hush,’ the production company said, ‘and obviously, certain people would need to know . . .’ You think?

I can imagine the BBC News headline now: ‘Tributes failed to pour in last night . . .’

Fastest slide into my dms

After following four actors of U.S. TV drama Suits, I received a message from one of them via Twitter minutes later.

It read: ‘Well hello there — thanks for the follow. Big fan of yours!’

Suffice it to say, I don’t think Meghan Markle remains quite such a big fan.

The most difficult challenge

Amid all the fulsome tributes to Muhammad Ali, I tweeted: ‘I hope people don’t make me sound too perfect when I die. No coats of sugar please.’

‘You could always test us?’ suggested singer John Legend.

Most surprising rapprochement

After I mocked Little Mix for posing naked with insults such as ‘slutty’ painted on their bodies, Ariana Grande — who I’d also criticised for initially fleeing from Manchester after the terror attack that killed so many of her fans — fired back at me by tweeting: ‘I look forward to the day you realise there are other ways to go about making yourself relevant than to criticise young successful women. I think that’s a beautiful thing for you and your career . . . or what’s left of it.’ Ouch!

My manager from Ocean Prime in Beverly Hills had been dining with me three months earlier when I spotted Ms Grande sitting at another table.

To my shock, the world’s biggest pop star (that week she became the first solo artist to ever have the top three singles in the U.S. Top 100 Billboard chart) clocked me and came over to our booth to announce: ‘Let’s chat.’

And chat we did, for hours until 1am, about everything from feminism, politics and terrorism — to love, music and friendship.

Ariana bought us some very expensive red wine but wasn’t happy with the way I toasted our new alliance.

‘NO! NO! NO!’ she screamed. ‘Always look me in the eye as you clink. Repeat it! I LOOK IN YOUR EYES!

Again we clinked, but this time I looked straight into her eyes. ‘That’s better! OK, now we can drink.’

‘Fiery little thing, aren’t you?’ I laughed.

‘I’m Italian, half-Sicilian, half-Abruzzese. So, I make no apologies for being passionate — it’s in my blood!’ Ariana was warm, whip-smart, emotional and hilarious.

It was wonderful.

When I got up to leave, she sprang up, too, ran round the table and exclaimed: ‘Can we hug? Would that be inappropriate?’

‘Yes, of course,’ I replied.

And so, we hugged.

‘I’m so glad we met,’ she said.

‘Me, too,’ I replied.

‘I think we’re going to be good friends,’ she said, ‘we’re a lot more alike than I realised.’

The most ruthless Instagram trolling

Holly Willoughby posted a photo of us captioned: ‘Lovely afternoon with Piers Morgan, thank you for a wonderful lunch. X.’

To which one of her followers commented: ‘Big t*ts meets a f***ing massive t*t.’

Nostradamus is the least impressive

‘Trump has no chance of becoming President,’ Lord Sugar declared during a dinner party thrown by designer Kelly Hoppen in May 2016. ‘None, nada, zero. This has never occurred. I know these things.’

(This narrowly beat Lord Sugar’s own previous best prediction in 2005: ‘Next Christmas, the iPod will be dead, kaput.’ Apple went on to sell 400 million iPods.)

Pictured: Joan Collins, Piers Morgan and Alan Sugar

Photo: Joan Collins (Piers Morgan) and Alan Sugar

Best amateur podiatrist revelation

I had my feet massaged on a Barbados beach in 2009 by a 6 ft 6 in local legend Rastafarian named ‘The Doctor’ who told me: ‘I’ve done all the big stars.’

‘Who has the best celebrity feet?’ I asked.

‘Alan Shearer. Very smooth.’

‘And the worst?’

‘Hugh Grant. Short and fat.’

Unexpected bromance

Cristiano Ronaldo direct messaged me on Instagram (he’s the most-followed star in the world) to say: ‘Hello sir! What’s your day? Your (crime) documentary was on Netflix. All of them I watched with my girlfriend, and she loves them. She said I should tell you that, so I am now telling you!’

He began texting me and we soon started chatting over the phone. I finally convinced him to meet up in Turin for a rare interview.

Ronaldo had a great conversation with my oldest son Spencer. He invited us to dinner at his favorite Japanese restaurant. There we ate sushi, drank delicious wine and talked about everything from football to serial killers.

‘I’d like to pay for dinner,’ I said at the end.

From my expensive experience, most celebrities are very happy never to get their wallet out, but Ronaldo’s made of different gravy on and off the pitch.

‘No, no, NO!’ he cried indignantly. ‘You are MY guests and have come to MY home. I pay!’

Piers Morgan and Cristiano Ronaldo: Friday 13th September 2019

Piers Morgan & Cristiano Ronaldo: Friday, 13 September 2019,

Then he gave us two signed Juventus shirts, hugged us, and slipped away into his £250,000 Rolls-Royce.

We’ve stayed in touch ever since, messaging on an almost daily basis, and aside from his wondrous talent with a football, he’s the most down-to-earth megastar I know.

The man with the greatest abs in world sporting history also gave me a compliment that may end up on my tombstone: ‘Piers,’ he said in the interview, ‘you have good abdominals.’

The clip, now my pinned tweet, has so far had 35 million views — more than any single TV show/event in British history.

The most enviable celebrity disfigurement

Several years after Jeremy Clarkson and I brawled at the British Press Awards, we bumped into each other in a Kensington restaurant, and I complained that he’d left a two-inch scar on my right temple. (It’s still there …)

‘My injuries were far worse,’ he snorted, showing me the crocked and gnarled little finger on his right, punching, hand.

‘I broke it on your head,’ he said, ‘and it’s never reset properly.’

The most shocking solution to a feud

Many years, and vicious public barbs, later, I received a 1am text: ‘Morgan, Clarkson here. It should be stopped. Drink?’

‘Pint in the Scarsdale?’ I responded. (We both frequent the same West London pub. Our arrival at the pub two nights later was a surprise. We shook our hands and marched up to the bar.

For the next four hours, we sat outside and drank — me, vast quantities of London Pride bitter and Rioja, him gallons of rosé.

He revealed the reason he raised the white flag as the alcohol poured.

‘I’m going through a difficult divorce,’ he sighed, ‘my first ex-wife has also come out of the woodwork to give me hell, I’m smoking too much, drinking too much, my back hurts, I’m all over the papers with scandals, I’m at war with my BBC bosses, and my mother has just died. I simply don’t have the energy for you any more, Morgan.’

We finally agreed that what our mutual friends have always insisted may be true — the reason we waged war for so long was because we are so similar: quiet, modest, devoid of opinion, and universally loved.

Revenge tastes ice-cold

To consolidate our peace, I appeared last year on Celebrity Who Wants To Be A Millionaire to show my support.

Clarkson looked at me and said that he didn’t know the right answer. He then smirked and pointed to his disfigured finger.

‘They say that if you wait by the river for long enough, the bodies of your enemies will float by, and yours has come by, Morgan. You’ve humiliated yourself. Goodbye.’

The most shocking example of political snub

When Sir John Major joined me in fellow knight Sir Ian Botham’s box at Lord’s, I asked him if he’d do a selfie with me.

He looked repulsed.

‘No, Piers. I do NOT do selfies!’


‘And definitely not with you!

Best excuse for standing me up

Raquel Welch had invited me to her hotel suite, the day before her Life Stories interview. Then she cancelled the invitation at the very last moment.

‘Sorry Piers,’ she explained when we finally met at the studio the next day, ‘I just remembered that I never take tea in the morning with any man I haven’t slept with.’

Piers Morgan and actress Raquel Welch

Piers Morgan with actress Raquel Welch

Most disconcerting poll victory

I came top of a ‘Most Popular Beer-Goggles Pin-up’ poll which revealed 39 per cent of British women don’t find me remotely attractive when sober but do when they’ve had a few drinks.

‘What nonsense,’ I spluttered indignantly to my wife Celia. ‘I can’t believe women only find me hot when they’re drunk.’

‘No, it’s true,’ she replied. ‘I’m one of them.’

The biggest bombshell

I’d always had a sneaking suspicion that things had got a little too . . . ahem . . Some of the Spice Girls have a spicy side.

Mel B was my interviewee for Life Stories.

‘There were rumours you and Geri were more than good friends,’ I probed. ‘You had a dabble?’

For several seconds, she stared blankly at me.

‘No denial?’ I persisted.

‘She had great boobs,’ said Mel.

‘So, you did?!’

‘Not really . . .’

‘You clearly DID!’

Mel B looked at Mel C who was seated in the audience.

‘I don’t know ANYTHING! All of this is new to me. . .’ insisted Ms Chisholm, with a face that suggested she knew absolutely everything but couldn’t believe her friend was about to cough to it.

‘OH, WHATEVER, MELANIE!’ screeched Mel B, whose obvious squirming was all the encouragement I needed.

‘Did you or didn’t you with Geri Halliwell?’

‘Well, what do you consider as doing it or not?’

This was like negotiating over Brexit — every tiny detail of clarification was of vital historical importance.

‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘Yeah, we all slept in a bed together but not “like that”.’

I was persistent, just like all gossip hounds. ‘Did you sleep with Geri “like that?” ’

Mel was silent once more, but then she smiled cheekily and nodded.

‘Yeah, and now I’ve said it, she’s going to kill me and so’s her husband.’

Let’s just say that Geri resorted to furious, implausible denizens and threatened to cancel the Spice Girls reunion tours.

But more importantly, my place in the pantheon of journalistic legends was assured — this was the showbiz equivalent of Watergate.

Spiciest request for a message delivery

A good friend found Victoria Beckham and sat with him at an event in Dubai many years back. He sent me this summary of part their conversation:

VB: ‘Is it true you know Piers Morgan?’

Friend: ‘Yes.’

VB: ‘Can you send him a message from me?’

Friend: ‘Yes.’

VB: ‘Tell him he’s a c***.’

Friend: ‘Will do.’

She returned half an hour later:

VB: ‘Actually, don’t send that.’

Friend: ‘Why not?’

VB: ‘Because it will make him happy.’

Nancy Dell'Olio, Piers Morgan and Victoria Beckham attend the Glamour Women Of The Year Awards 2007, at the Berkeley Square Gardens on June 5, 2007 in London, England

Nancy Dell’Olio and Piers Morgan attend the Glamour Women Of The Year Awards 2007 at Berkeley Square Gardens, London on June 5, 2007, in London.

This explains all award.

‘What is the secret of the Johnson family success?’ I asked Rachel Johnson during a taxi ride to BBC1’s Question Time in Surrey.

‘Well,’ she giggled, ‘all the men are incredibly well-hung.’

The most damning statement made by a sibling

My brother Jeremy gleefully took my down at my 50th birthday party, which was attended by everybody from Ant McPartlin to Amanda Holden and Lord Sugar.

  • ‘As Rupert Murdoch once rightly said of him: ‘The problem with Piers is that his balls are bigger than his brains.’
  • ‘You’d have to be a complete idiot going on his Life Stories show, there seems to be a fair chance of either blubbing like a girl or having your collar felt by the police sex crimes unit.’
  • ‘He has penned numerous best-selling books, mostly about the one thing that interests him more than anything else: himself.’

Recommendations for backhandedness:

Lord Sugar, speaking at the same event: ‘Piers must have some talent, ‘cos he’s too ugly to have slept his way to the top.’

Unashamedly patriotic and most unpatriotic of turncoats

Jack Whitehall told the star-studded audience at a Hollywood awards ceremony: ‘Piers Morgan is Britain’s answer to Donald Trump, if the question America was asking was: “I wonder what Donald Trump would be like with less charm?” ’

Why you should meet with your heroes sometimes

I was a 16-year-old cricket fanatic when Sir Ian Botham destroyed the Australians in what became known as the ‘Botham’s Ashes’ series. He became my great friend and invited me to Sunningdale, Berkshire for his 60th birthday. We were joined by a few other 1981 heroes Bob Willis. Then we went on an incredible long lunch at Waterside Inn in Bray.

After enjoying great wine and delicious food from Michel Roux’s three Michelin star restaurant, the sun began to set and we moved on to the small, hexagonal hut next the river. There we spent another two hours smoking large cigars and sipping brandy while talking about what made me fall in love with the most iconic sport in the universe.

‘I wish Winston Churchill was here,’ Beefy declared at one point.

It was unnecessary. It was the most modern version that we had with us.

Career advice you should know

Kim suggests that I start a strange new job in an episode Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

‘Did Piers Morgan respond to you?’ asked her sister Kourtney, alluding to a Twitter debate that Kim and I had over a particularly tacky naked selfie she’d posted. ‘He wrote a full blog about why don’t I try to be successful with my clothes on,’ replied Kim. ‘I’m like, why don’t YOU try to be successful with your clothes OFF? It’s actually really hard.’

The best personal advice

During filming for America’s Got Talent in 2009, I told co-judge David Hasselhoff that I was going to the Midsummer Night’s Dream party at the Playboy Mansion.

‘You’ll have a lot of fun there, man,’ he said. ‘It’s pretty crazy! The chicks are gonna be throwing themselves at you!’

‘Actually, I’m going with my girlfriend,’ I replied.

Hoff seemed completely puzzled, and then he shook his heads slowly.

‘Don’t you know the golden rule? Never take sand to the beach!’

The most magical experience

Lionel Richie invited me to dinner at his Bel Air home and revealed: ‘Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye and me all shared one thing in common — none of us could read music!’

‘How can you create songs if you can’t read music?’ I asked. ‘You do this . . .’ he replied, and began tapping his finger on the table, in a slow, rhythmical monotone. ‘I saw Marvin do it once, and it was incredible to watch.’

Lionel kept tapping the table with the same finger and began riffing with his vocal, making up songs as he went.

It was a spell-binding experience.

Houdini Award for Greatest Escape

Janet Street-Porter told Loose Women viewers: ‘I’d sooner kiss a Gloucester Spotted Pig than Piers Morgan.’ Phew.

Assessing the most reassuring characteristics

‘Is Piers Morgan A Psychopath?’ asked the Radio Times.

This disconcerting question was explored by my team by asking me to complete a test administered by Kevin Dutton (a psychologist expert from Oxford University).

‘Piers does possess some psychopathic tendencies,’ concluded Dr Dutton. ‘He’s persuasive, charismatic, cool under pressure and can be ruthless when he has to. But in other ways, he is un-psychopathic — he’s reliable, hard-working, and very empathetic. You might call him a good psychopath!’

Most humiliating public de-bagging

One Direction star Niall Horan challenged me to a charity pro-am football match at Leicester City’s stadium, and as I stood next to him on the touchline, I suddenly felt a pair of hands clutch my shorts and yank them downwards, as a loud northern voice cackled: ‘Take that you w***er!’.

Terror gripped me: I’d been debagged by Harry Styles in front of 18,000 people, most of whom were armed with camera phones.

(My biggest nightmare is seeing myself naked while I’m on live TV.

James Corden burst into laughter. ‘I think we just saw your limitations laid bare, Morgan!’

Most unlikely movie star gift

Burt Reynolds sent me a love heart-shaped pillow with his face on it and a hand-written note on headed paper from his suite at the Dorchester Hotel which read: ‘Piers, love and warm thoughts always, Burt. PS you’re very special.’

Burt Reynolds and Sally Field at the Steak Pit Restaurant in Los Angeles, California

Burt Reynolds & Sally Field in Los Angeles at Steak Pit Restaurant

Karma’s a broken bone bitch award

When Australian fast bowler Brett Lee destroyed my ribcage in a ferocious televised assault on my personage in the nets at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (my horrified sister dubbed it ‘a public stoning’), Shane Warne was the umpire and could be seen cracking up as my bones cracked up. ‘You should have got in line mate, not backed away!’ he chortled afterwards.

Six months later, Mr Warne himself had to face Mr Lee in the Lord’s 200th anniversary game and was thus able to show me exactly how it’s done.

Brett bowled him a vicious (accidental) beamer first ball, Shane duly got in line, the ball struck his right hand — and broke it.

The ‘you don’t actually know when you’ve been tango’d’ award

The first pandemic wave was so severe that I needed to make my own makeup. One morning I mistakenly selected the wrong type of pot, and I ended up looking bright orange.

I only realised when viewers bombarded me on Twitter with pictures of my head next to one of perma-tanned President Trump with mocking ‘TANGO TWINS!’ style captions.

‘How bad is it?’ I whispered to Susanna Reid.

‘It’s not great,’ she giggled, ‘there are some . . . blending issues.’

Famous friend who is least sympathetic

Celebrity friends were quick to express concern when I falsely believed that I had Covid in the last year.

There are many other options.

‘Oh, come on Piers,’ texted Vinnie Jones, ‘don’t be going for the sympathy vote with all the housewives you complete b***end. You pansy, let me know once you’re over your sniffles. Your loving buddy, Vin. X’

A photo was attached to the message that showed a smiling Mr Jones in his beanie hat and large woollen penis.

Straight back to work, I went.

Vinnie Jones of Wimbledon makes a point during a League Division One match between Wimbledon and Middlesbrough at Plough Lane on March 25, 1989 in London, England

Vinnie Jones from Wimbledon scores a point during the League Division One match Wimbledon played at Plough Lane, March 25, 1989.

Award: We might be twins

When I won Donald Trump’s Celebrity Apprentice show in 2008, his final words to me as he announced the result were: ‘Piers, you’re a vicious guy. You’re tough. You’re smart. You’re probably brilliant. I’m not sure. You’re certainly not diplomatic. You did an incredible job. You beat everyone. . . you’re my Celebrity Apprentice.’

When Donald Trump was elected President in 2016, I wrote him a note saying:

‘Donald, you’re a vicious guy. You’re tough. You’re smart. You’re probably brilliant. I’m not sure. You’re certainly not diplomatic. You did an incredible job. You outperformed everyone. . . you’re the President of the United States.’

He laughed and called me as soon as he received it.