Obviously, Lena Dunham is a hella sexy beast. Just look at that modern day Mama Cass splayed across the bed like the world’s most sticky throw rug. According to the New York Daily News columnist Zayda Rivera, that’s not all you simply can’t deny about Lena:
There’s no denying Dunham’s unwavering talent and how far she’s come from her days as a shy and maybe even awkward kid growing up in New York City.
Fuck, who would deny the obvious? Unwavering? How about majestic and delivered from the hand of God himself?. Zayda felt the need to pile on the compliments for new Vogue cover girl, Lena Dunham, who the magazine dubs as the new queen of comedy. Somewhere Melissa McCarthy is angrily consuming hot dogs like Joey Chestnut and figuring out how to get some reasonably legitimate medium to show off her tits. While Vogue editor Anna Wintour may not be a fan of Kim Kardashian, she’s been infatuated with Lena Dunham since first her chilled and bony hand shook Lena’s flabby dominant paw at a Vogue charity event last Fall.
If you can wind your way past the Vogue photos of Lena without masturbating yourself into Catholic Hades, you can learn about how Lena was a socially outcast literary genius from an early age, penning poems and plays when other kids were still shitting their diapers;
All my plays were about abortion clinics — girls waiting in an abortion clinic, trying to make the Big Decision.
Lena, you are a true cut up. I wish we could hang. Maybe Zayda and I can scratch away the calloused dead skin from your heels while you regale us with further tales of young life as a feminist prodigy with unwanted pregnancy yearnings. Then when people ask me what made me vomit first, the scaly foot skin or the pompous stories, I can honestly be undecided.