The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth, and Other Entries from the Diary of Stephen Miller

January 29, 2018

Talk about a banner day for Stephen Miller. First, POTUS liked my tweet about the wall (“BUILD IT”), then spent the entire afternoon with Hope working on the State of the Union. She accepted all my tracked changes for the speech before I even got to the office. When we were workshopping applause lines, I told her my joke about El Salvadorans and my bathroom remodel, and she laughed so hard, she knocked our list of black crime statistics off the table. Sent her a good follow-up text about those Guatemalan pan flute bands you see on U Street, but she hasn’t responded. Probably just playing it cool, what with the ethics of it, if people found out. Think I can still smell her perfume on my blazer. Ivanka Trump for Women. What a class act.

February 2, 2018

Tried to go in to see POTUS, but John Kelly was standing guard in front of the door again. He said POTUS couldn’t talk with anyone until he finished his security briefing. Still had another page and a half to go. As I was leaving, saw Kushner coming back with the Assad and Erdogan felt puppets again. Since no conversation with POTUS, I mustered up the courage to ask Hope to lunch in the commissary, and she said yes! Hope is so beautiful. You just want to wear her like a jacket. She started asking me about growing up in Santa Monica and what my dad does. Definitely making progress. Think she believed me when I told her I’d never heard of a “bar mitzvah” before. Note to self: edit Wikipedia page again.

February 6, 2018

Late night in the West Wing. Found out the liberal media is going to run some story about Rob Porter beating his ex-wives. Typical globalists with their petit-bourgeois morals and their separate dishes for meat and dairy. Have a feeling Rob may be out once this story breaks. Honestly, though, I’m a little relieved. Saw Rob give Hope a hug in the Cross Hall the other day. He gave her back a highlighter he’d borrowed. When is he getting the chance to borrow a highlighter from her? Still, too bad for Rob. What a mensc—a standup guy.

February 8, 2018

Rob Porter is a goddamn cuck! Turns out Rob and Hope have been dating this whole time. A few calls to Ezra Cohen-Watnick later, and I got their entire Facebook message history. I don’t get it. Just last night, Hope and I were working on a plan to forcibly deport Hispanic immigrants, and it was so natural and easy. I just wish she saw that I’m the kind of guy who knows you only take out your repressed insecurities and impotent rage on a racial underclass and never—ever—on the woman you love. But beautiful women never seem to go for the nice guys. Story of my life.

February 13, 2018

Out of sight, out of mind? I can only hope. Hope for Hope. Stayed late last night drawing up plans for an internment facility in Whitefish, Montana shaped like Hope’s eyes when seen from above. Planning to unveil it at the weekly domestic policy roundtable tomorrow. Maybe she’ll finally see that I’m the kind of guy who knows how to treat a woman, now that Rob isn’t walking around with that stupid square face of his. The outdoor pens where they’ll hammer license plates are going to be lit entirely with blue fluorescent lamps, so that at night, they shine like Hope’s patrician orbs. Reminder: call back West End Plastic Surgery about circumcision reversal.