“I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I have never taken drugs,” Donald Trump told me in the muffled elegance of his Fifth Avenue office in 2013. “Your weakness is women,” I helped obligingly. The Donald smiled back at me. I had no idea how true that would turn out to be. And nor, I am sure, did he.

His “weakness” has now become the nuclear melt-down that imperils not just his run for the White house but his business and his brand. Trump’s boast-full vulgarity –or worse if some of the allegations against him are true- threatens to become an extinction event.

Or does it? Every new revelation about Trump’s sexual Trumpness may be designed to imperil his swivel chair in the Oval Office, but the media’s outrage and the revulsion of the Washington establishment is like a growth hormone to his blind popularity amongst roughly one third of the electorate.