Celebrity millionaire socialist, Lena Dunham, campaigned tirelessly for Candidate Clinton, filling Hillary's presidential run with a thick, cloying fog of canting hubris ridden smug.
Then bang, Clinton lost by a landslide and flew into an uncontrollable rage, slinging champagne bottles through hotel flatscreens and clawing at Mook like a wild beast. They had to sedate her as she thrashed on the floor of the Victory Suite, shrieking obscenities.
|Painful at a Cellular Level|
And all thanks to Lena Dunham. Imagine the celebrity leftist's stomach churning waking nightmare when she discovered her idol had gone down in flames. It made her sick:
"Watching the numbers in Florida, I touched my face and realized I was crying. ‘Can we please go home?’ I said to my boyfriend. I could tell he was having trouble breathing, and I could feel my chin breaking into hives.”
|A Clay Golem|
Yes, hives. Dunham's pain at costing Clinton the presidency bored right down to her inner being, to the "cellular level," and let's not forget the agony of betrayal, having to live with the fact that women didn't vote for Hillary:
"It is painful on a cellular level knowing those men got what they wanted, just as it’s painful to know you are hated for daring to ask for what is yours.”
“It’s painful to know that white women, so unable to see the unity of female identity, so unable to look past their violent privilege, and so inoculated with hate for themselves, showed up to the polls for him, too."
Yeah, they did. Sorry, Dunham, for some reason you failed to convince.
Rumors that Canada is building a "Great Northern Wall" to keep Lena Dunham out of the country are entirely with foundation.
Your Old Friend,