It Ain’t Easy Being King!

Donald Trump confides to his diary about how things are going.

Welcome to another installment of Life Its Ownself. Once again, Dear Reader, we offer you groundbreaking exclusive content – an excerpt from President Trump’s diary written only two nights ago!

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Tuesday, March 10, 2026

(Once again, my friend Vinnie Lamponero, who has still not been fired from one of those three-syllable agencies that can protect us from everything except our own bad choices, has done me a solid by sending me an excerpt from President Donald Trump’s personal diary. How did he get it? You don’t want to know.)

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Sunday, March 8, 2025

Dear Diary,

The last week has been a bummer, the likes of which you have never seen. I started a war last weekend because Bibi was driving me crazy about the Iranians. I swear, if Mossad didn’t have all that dirt on me, I’d tell him to go pound sand. “Pound sand” – that’s a funny thing to say to someone in the desert. I love inventing new words and phrases!

I announced the war at 2:00 a.m. on Saturday, from that eyesore they call my “command bunker” at Mar-a-Lago. I am furious that just anyone there can walk in and out of the place, what with those flimsy black curtains – what is this, a Tim Burton movie? My stupid generals told me it was inappropriate for civilians to have access there, and they were right – I don’t want Mar-a-Lago guests wandering through there until I can properly decorate it with some gold embellishments from Home Depot Fort Knox!

I wanted to wear my red “Trump 2028” hat when I announced the war, but Susie Wiles told me it was not dignified. So I wore a new white “USA” hat, with tasteful gold embroidery. Of course, the Fake News Media (really, is there any other kind, now that even Fox News is going “woke?”) criticized me for not being presidential, but fuck ‘em – I immediately jacked the price up to $55 on those hats with the tagline, “The hat they don’t want you to wear.” They’re selling like hotcakes to MAGA rubes Patriotic Americans.

I wore my new favorite hat again when a bunch of dead soldiers arrived at Dover. Pete promised me I would only have to attend one “dignified transfer,” since the war would be over so quickly. COMPLETE AND TOTAL VICTORY! Once again, the media carped about it, so much so that Fox News substituted old B-roll video of a previous ceremony, one where I am not wearing a hat, so I would look more “presidential.” They wanted to protect me, but eventually had to ‘fess up. Still, I’d rather they bellyache about my hat than about the six dead American soldiers (and counting).

Besides, those sissy-boys and -girls have never had to endure their hair whipping around in the wind like a tumbleweed.

I told Pete, “No more dead bodies.” I hope he gets the message. (Editor: he didn’t.)

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Speaking of morons running hig government bureaucracies, I had to fire Kristi Noem last week. I liked Kristi, and she did everything she could to abase herself as a Cabinet member. She even let Doctor Caligari, the plastic surgeon I send all the girls to, mangle her face beyond recognition just so she’d fit in better.

When I hired her, I told her I wanted a million people a year deported, and I wanted a masked and armed paramilitary force to do it. (I have other plans for that force.) Sure, they got a little carried away, arresting, deporting and even killing American citizens, but you have to break a few eggs to make a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich.

But then she told that doofus Cassidy that I had personally approved her $220 million DHS ad campaign, which she turned into her own glamour photoshoot. I did, of course, but I did not realize how bad it would look. If anyone is going to waste $220 million of taxpayer dollars on a vanity campaign, it’s going to be me! And it looked even worse after she bought her own flying f*ck palace complete with a bedroom, so she and Corey could gallivant around the country in erotic luxury. I have strong morals, and I draw the line at other people cheating on their wives and/or husbands.

Anyway, she had to go, but we needed to keep her in the fold. God knows the stories she and Lewandowski could tell the National Enquirer. We were sitting around the Oval Office brainstorming what to do with her when I noticed one of the junior aides watching a Marvel Cinematic Universe movie on his phone. I was struck by inspiration – Shield of the Americas! I called Liddle Marco and told him to round up all the South Americans dictators he could on short notice so I could announce this new initiative and put Kristi in charge of it.

To replace her, I chose Markwayne Mullin, the junior senator from Oklahoma. He makes Tom Cotton look like Albert Einstein. He’s dumb as a box of rocks, but he is totally loyal and has a nice sadistic streak that will go over well at DHS.

I was hoping shitcanning Kristi would give a boost to my approval ratings, but the rest of the week’s news was all bad. The economy is going great – Americans are winning like never before – but the pinheads at the Bureau of Labor Statistics are lying about everything. First, they revised their 2025 numbers to show only 181,000 new jobs in 2025. (They said Sleepy Joe added 2.2 million jobs in 2024, but that was because everyone was anticipating my return.) Then they said we lost 92,000 jobs in February, raising the unemployment rate to 4.4%. Time to fire another head of the BLS, I guess.

There’s one spot of bright news in all this death and destruction: the Epstein files are off the front pages. Just in time, too – the DOJ finally released those records about that 13-tyear old girl who accused me of sexual abuse. Pam Bondi and Kash Patel thought they could keep the lid on that, but their departments leak like a sieve. Pam just got subpoenaed by the House Investigations Committee – Comer Fudd couldn’t keep his spineless members in line.

Well, at least I got to go golfing today. I did pretty well, in spite of the cares of office. I am a cinch to win the Doral club championship again this year. Thank goodness the cares of the presidency haven’t hurt my golf game at all.