8 a.m. Just finished briefings with all the secretaries — Defense, Interior, State, Commerce, Agriculture and I don't know how many more. I gave every one of 'em five minutes, and all I got was BS. I made it clear and simple: We're gonna run the country like a business and that means cut expenses, increase revenue!
These departments are all the same — buildings full of bureaucrats collecting paychecks and emailing each other. From now on, they'll have to work and work hard. We're converting the biggest and most useless buildings into casinos, we'll retrain the workforce and we'll make money for America. Take the Capitol — what a casino that could be! Think of the visitor numbers! I gotta figure out how to break the news to Congress ... just a bunch of do-nothings. Wonder if I can fire them all?
10 a.m. Met with Vladimir Putin, the Russian capo. Putin? What kind of name is that? There was a guy in high school we called Pooter because he loved to cut farts. Putin didn't fart, but he tried to talk like a tough guy. Reminded me of these Asian gamblers we'd get, they'd show up with $5 million in cash, lose it all and then they'd want casino credit. We'd tell 'em nope, go get some more of your own money, and they'd give you the stinkeye, like they were Triad bosses.
Putin was pissed about Crimea or a gas pipeline or something, so I threw him out. He doesn't even speak English — couldn't believe it. I know plenty of Russians and they all speak English. Anyway, you can't trust 'em — that's what Ivana told me years ago, and she's Czech, so she knows.
11 a.m. Found out the damn Army still has forts, just like in the movies. Bent's Fort, Fort Pulaski, Fort Kit Carson — what the hell? We're not in the movie business. I told Gen. Michelle Johnson, the Secretary of Defense, to close 'em all, and start with the one in Colorado. She said we can't do that, we need the cavalry division or something like that! No, dodo, we'll sell the horses for dog food and fire the riders. Can't believe this stuff.
Noon. Lunch in the office. I'm stuck in this dump. The office is too small, too old, and it smells weird. This is a great location, but it's time to tear down this crappy building and go vertical: 100 floors, and my office and official residence in the penthouse.
We'll condo it — the Trump White House Tower. We'll start demo work tomorrow. Melania can oversee it. We'll take a management fee and the Treasury will make billions on the deal.
1 p.m. Meeting with congressional leaders, bunch of windbags. Doug Lamborn and Michael Bennet stuck around afterward to talk about their fort. Nice guys. Nancy Pelosi was there too. You can tell she was a looker way back when; Steve Durham showed me her picture when she was Miss Lube Rack in 1959 — such a hottie!
Anyway, they're trying to persuade me to keep Fort Carson open. I told 'em to generate revenue, take those wide open spaces and develop them, get the cavalrymen off their horses and into the workforce. They started to argue, so I threw 'em all out.
3 p.m. Gen. Johnson comes running in and says that Putin invaded Kazakhstan. Is that an actual country? The general says yeah. She shows me a map, and it looks like part of Russia.
Good move, Putin — consolidate, reduce bureaucracy, cut expenses! Why should we care? I call Putin, tell him we want casino, mining, hotel, oil and timber concessions. He caves right away. We can't trust him, but we can do business. General is pissed, starts to talk about dignity and honor and liberty. I throw her out.
4 p.m. Pelosi emails, begs me to leave forts alone, says I can raise taxes for more revenue. Fabulous idea, so I put together a billionaire tax. That's where the money is — and don't worry, POTUS has restructured his investments and won't owe a dime. Pelosi loves it.
5 p.m. Helicopter to NYC. Not spending my nights in D.C. Relax at home for a while, then out to dinner, maybe Per Se? This is my city, my country, my time; it's the Age of Trump!
I have to wonder — would there be any money in starting a religion?