Lena Dunham Fingers Herself

Lena Dunham is every rich New York girl’s fat unattractive friend. From Taylor Swift to that creepy woman who runs Vogue to Alec Baldwin when he dresses up in his fake Spanish yoga wife’s maternity clothes, Lena gives you more progressive street cred than a necklace of aborted fetuses. Though it’s close. And the fetuses don’t smell like old cheese in between minge wash days.

Lena is under attack from conservative columnists because her memoirs shockingly reveal Lena to be a privileged screaming harpy who you would pay your last silver coin to Van Helsing to exterminate. Within her tell-all, Lena casually describes sexualizing her six-year old sister’s privates. At the time, Lena was just a chubby second grader herself working diligently on her Marxist sketches where women in khaki skirts shit down their legs and into their uncomfortable boots:

Dunham writes of casually masturbating while in bed next to her younger sister, of bribing her with “three pieces of candy if I could kiss her on the lips for five seconds … anything a sexual predator might do to woo a small suburban girl I was trying.” At one point, when her sister is a toddler, Lena Dunham pries open her vagina — “my curiosity got the best of me,” she offers, as though that were an explanation.

Any relatively sane person knows that little kids do weird show and tell shit with their nads around that certain age of discovery. I remember a troubled kid at school who used to flash his junk and scream ‘penis’ at the top of his lungs. Okay, that was me. Lena Dunham isn’t a child molester. She’s just a person who scored a massive fucking advance on a book where she promised to include a bunch of provocative shit about her growing up life. She probably made it up. But her outrage over being called on molesting little sis, that’s super fucking genuine:

Len’a putting the bros and old men in their place. At the same time, she’s giving guys like Mama June’s paroled ex-boyfriend some decent pedo spank bank reading material. Don’t ask me why all of this means that Lena Dunham wins, she just does. It’s like a balloon blowing contest. You’re in first place until you pop. Ride it, musty. The pop is coming.