Donald to me: “I’m on trial with a totally rigged and conflicted judge, submitted by a DA who is corrupt, incompetent and allowing violent crime all over the city.

“New York is going to hell — but they go after Trump.”

A few personal words, then: “My only thought is to beat the communists, fascists and lunatics that we are all having to put up with, hopefully for only a little longer.”

There’s a new documentary on the old Robert Durst. He was the late multimurderer whose kin are heavy-duty NYC real estate folk.

I knew him. Spent social time with him. Listen, what can I tell you — I have a high-class group of friends.

I did stories on him. Knew his lawyers. Visited him in a few jails. He was quiet. Spoke softly. Slowly. You’d never guess that after a friendly visit he’d next go out and chop up a neighbor.

One conversation we had — after he was jailed and found guilty — spread over four phone calls. He’d then worn a dress, stolen a sandwich and was on trial because for dessert he’d hacked up a body.

One time found him in the prison hospital. It was Thanksgiving. Allowed a special treat of turkey and french fries, he’d become ill. Being behind bars for a while he told me: “I wasn’t used to such rich food.”

Once — after he’d hacked up his neighbor in Texas — he called me from prison. Collect. Said he was annoyed. “Irritated” was his word. Another time, after he was to be brought to trial, he said — very softly — “I ran away. I don’t know if they’ll even charge me with bond jumping.”

BOND JUMPING? The sicko was being charged with murder!

HBO series, “The Jinx — Part 2,” airing Sundays now.

Springtime’s newest evening go-to for a magnificent dinner is Arthur Backal’s Riverpark. It’s East 29th.

An outdoor patio garden plaza is waterside, right against the river with lounge chairs, jumbo umbrellas and a Michelin chef’s menu. It was glorious. Just letting you know.

The very late Vincent Van Gogh is finally seeing a few bucks. M.S. Rau gallery’s “Head of a Peasant Woman in a White Headdress” got sold in Amsterdam for a large pile of cash.

Poor Vinnie never sold one single schmear in his lifetime. Today his own self-portrait, now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, got valued at $150 mil.

Poor Vinnie might’ve kept his chopped off left ear if he’d ever nailed a single buyer.

Kevin Spacey: “Cracks me up when I hear journalists say about me, ‘Oh, he’s so confident and cool.’ They haven’t a clue. I’m always peeing in my pants. Before I do talk shows, I think that, for me, it’s heart attack time.”

College question: “How do you become a college president in the United States?”

Answer: “Very simple. You just take a mouthful of marbles. Then, one by one you drop them. And when you’ve lost all your marbles you become a college president in the United States.”

Only in America, kids, only in America.