You’ve got to admire Lena Dunham. When most actresses receive two years advanced notice on a showy promotional shoot, they might do a sit-up or lay off the pork rinds every other Tuesday. Not Lena Dunham and not when there’s so many modern options in plus-sized ladies underwear. I couldn’t be happier for the thirteen inmates in this country who have masturbation fixations on tranny Rush Limbaugh in leopard skin bloomers. For the rest of us, shutter your eyes lest you be stuck with the inability to maintain an erection for the next 73 days. I believe that is Lena’s sinister goal as she maniacally sucks on her stockpile of frozen Charleston Chews in her lair high above the upper west side of Manhattan.
I had the chance to read the multimedia Not That Kind of Girl book proposal Lena sent around to various publishing houses in New York a couple years back. It got leaked on the Internet and she sued the crap out of everybody for daring to look at her self-aggrandizing literary pap smear. It had lots of cute life lessons learned being an awesomely talented playwright about topics such as abortion, wacky cab rides on the way to get abortions, and, naturally, the post-abortion gelato. Some fawning maven of New York literati handed Lena several millions of dollars and her left fallopian tube as advance for her book proposal. If the final version is anything like her endangered circus animal underwear promo pics, it’s going to be a difficult read.
Photo Credit: Lena Dunham/Instagram