Lena Dunham Two Dogs, One Tit

Lena Dunham’s breast spilled out of her top while she hauled her two replacement dogs across the sands in the manner of a fisherman hoisting his catch. That’s not to assume she’s going to consume her new designer dogs. Though she is, with fava beans and a half gallon of triple sugared Hi-C. That’s the difference between fat shaming and objective realism.

Dunham recovered rather quickly from the forced resettling of her rescue dog who’d run his course of publicity use. Dunham cares for false praise and abortion rights in equal measure. There’s barely room for the love of a good animal, or a bra for her Sbarro fed hangers. The unattractive inside and out self-described comedian remains intensely popular in four to five zip codes out of the nation’s 43,000. When you move only between these bubbles, you might feel particularly loved. She’s the Kim Jong-un of the Upper West Side.

Men in particular become very disoriented when one of the rare women they wouldn’t sleep with becomes successful without an obvious professional talent. We expected Jenny McCarthy to do well after perusing her bare snatch in Playboy. It made sense. Melissa McCarthy is a talented comedic actress who manages to be self-aware of her bulk without insisting it be the center of her appeal. If a short guy with a substandard set shot got a max deal from the Cavaliers, we’d be equally up in arms. Anomalies are hard to process.

Dunham is an anomaly insisting you pretend she isn’t. Even her latest round of publicity dogs can sniff that one out. It’s probably unfair that factory towns in the rust belt are decaying while this woman is thriving. Suck it up. You’ve got free porn.

_{Photo Credit: Pacific Coast News}