Letter from the publisher

THUMB LUCK New TOC publisher Trump looks forward to buying you next.

Photo: Andrew Marks / Retna Ltd.

Dear Chicago:

I specialize in acquiring distressed properties, and this time, you’re it. Phase One of my plan to procure your city was Trump International Hotel & Tower. Now that I’ve pumped some silicone into your skyline, it’s time for Phase Two: buying your media.

Now TOC stands for Trump On Chicago, a magazine that will apply the principles of my 2007 some-seller, Think BIG and Kick Ass in Business and Life, to your shitty town.

Here’s the score. Chicago isn’t the “Second City”—it isn’t even eighth. Chicago is the nation’s water boy. You know why? Because you’re in love with the underdog. If I were boss, the Cubs would have been fired 99 years ago. But in this town, a century of failure is cause for celebration. You losers can’t see the cornfield for the corn, but the Donald is here for the reorg. You’re welcome!

The new TOC is going to be huge, absolutely huge. Here’s a preview of the shake-up:

Film and Theater Only crusty-eyed orphans rate art with six stars. I’ve got six stars living in my hair. Oh look, three more just fell out of my ass. You exhaust me, Chicago! Less is NOT more. Look it up in the dictionary: It’s less. So from now on, TOC reviews will go to an 11-star rating. And if I haven’t heard of anyone in the movie, we won’t waste your time with it. If a play hasn’t grossed a million, ditto. Because you know who pays attention to the little guy? Other little guys. Stop being so provincial!

Around Town TOC will increase Gold Coast coverage by devoting half its glossy pages to photos of socialites at charity events. Group photos of tanorexic women in black dresses and silver foxes in tartan bow ties will make full-time climbers “read” TOC like a stock report on their social standing, and that’s cocaine to upscale advertisers. (Staff, don’t be distracted by the increased revenue. You writers I inherited are paid like bike messengers, but you also dress like bike messengers, and nothing about hoodies says raise to me.)

Books I’ve written more than 11 books, and this magazine didn’t review any of them. Big mistake. From now on, the Books section will be devoted to books written by me. If you don’t want to read reviews of How to Turn Your Idea Into a Money Machine, move to Indiana.

Trump On Chicago is also introducing state-of-the-art new sections you’ll love:

Buy Out What’s new in knocking down landmarks to put up condos.

Yachting Step aboard your life savings once a year, while you pretend to live on a coast!

This Week in Prenups The first letters of marriage are M and A because when you merge, your spouse acquires your assets. Learn how to put a condom on your bank account before you catch golddiggeritis.

Conspicuous Consumption Keep up with the possessions and attitudes that ensure every person you encounter knows you’re rich.

Out of Here Job listings in New York, Palm Springs and Las Vegas, for when you’re ready to skip this godforsaken town you call home.

Another change: a price increase. Trump On Chicago will be $9.99 per issue, because price signals quality. Pay $2.99 for a magazine and you feel like some schlub on the El. Pay $9.99 for the same thing and you feel like a big shot—next thing you know you’re ordering port for breakfast. Same magazine, better you.

I know publishing isn’t very profitable, but the analysts criticizing this deal are thinking small. I’m not just buying a magazine, I’m buying an opportunity to rub Rosie O’Donnell’s face in an old pile of crap called Rosie magazine. Last year, Rosie and I had a bitter public feud when I reinstated Tara Conner as Miss USA after Tara was canned for underage drinking. (Hey, you can take the boy out of Queens, but you can’t make him pretend that getting smacked around by a mouthy Long Island broad in a Lane Bryant tunic isn’t oddly exhilarating.) I’ve surrounded myself with an international harem of underfed Stepford women, yet I’m irresistibly drawn to one who would never sleep with me and always finishes her dinner, and I don’t care who knows it.

So eat this, Rosie: I’ve made Tara Conner TOC’s new brand ambassador. Go ahead, scream at me. Please?

You’re dismissed,

Donald Trump, Publisher

Is this some kind of joke? Yes, actually. The above was part of TOC's 2008 April Fool's issue. Read more about it here.

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