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December 9, 2014 | celebrity | Lex Jurgen | 0 Comments
Here’s a grand revenge plot for someone you butted political heads with in college. Finger them as a guy who raped you in college in your hilariously real and ribald memoirs. I closed Lena Dunham’s autobiography after I got to the part where she offered her baby sister candy if she could kiss her on the lips. The vomit cloth only soaks up so much between wringings. Lena alludes in her book to a college conservative named Barry as her rapist. By way of coincidence, among the three Republicans on the ultra-liberal Oberlin campus was a dude named Barry and that Barry kind of remembers not ever raping Lena Dunham. Mounting Lena Dunham does seem like something you’d remember, if for no other reason than the scent of day-old mackerel overwhelming your thalamus ten years on.
Lena decided not to come out and clear this Barry even after everybody had this dude wrongly pegged for the lowlife who savaged her fleshy loins. This could be Lena’s revenge for Barry not applauding loudly enough after her spoken word odes to abortion on center campus. Barry hired a lawyer at which point publisher Random House and their attorneys issued a statement apologizing for the ‘confusion’ and emphatically stating that the real name of the dude who raped Lena wasn’t even Barry. What a totally funny coincidence. Random House offered to pay Barry’s legal expenses because that’s just what kindly New York publishing houses do when they’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.
The spitefully doughy Lena Dunham remains conspicuously absent for comment though it is difficult to retort while simultaneously digesting a Fugdsicle through each of your bodily orifices.