10 Things I Hope Happen to Stephen Miller

(But won't get me sent to jail for writing about)

When I was very young, my parents instilled in me the important idea that wishing death or even violence on another person is wrong, no matter what that person has done. It was so important, in fact, that I felt I couldn’t even violate it in my own head.

This forced me to develop some creative ill wishes when I was mad. If I didn’t want someone to suffer horribly, but I did want them to suffer a little, what did I wish for?

“I hope they fall into a garbage can on the way home.” To me, this was a perfect fate. Gross, embarrassing, maybe slightly painful—a bad experience the other kid would remember for almost as long as if I had kicked them in the shins, which is what I actually wanted to do.

This all brings me to Stephen Miller. Sorry to write about such a lame guy again, but given his shocking level of influence and the fact that he seems laser-focused on destroying the place I live, I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, and in much the same way that I would a middle school bully: I want something bad to happen to him.

How bad? Well, not bad enough to get arrested for writing about it—and therefore not bad enough to violate my childhood code. Here are some ideas that fit the bill.

10 Things I Hope Happen to Stephen Miller (That Won’t Get Me Sent To Jail for Writing About)

1. He gets a permanent ice cream headache, but in his penis.