Here is a small sampling of some of the body commentary I receive on a day-to-day basis via the World Wide Web.

She looks like a warthog to me.

Hashtag truth.

Lena Dunham, hence her last name, equals Dunham equals cooked pig.

Lena Dunham looks like the type of person who likes to fart in her hand and smell it.

I want Lena Dunham's fat ass dead.

Lena Dunham looks like a toe.

Disgusting, quivering mass of horror is the best description of Lena Dunham I've ever heard.

Lena Dunham does have a horrible body.

Hated every time she had her ugly naked ass body ungirls.

Hashtag Lena Dunham, Jesus Christ, what a fat ugly bitch, black.

Those last few tweets actually just came from this morning before I even woke up.

And one of the ones I didn't read you actually caused me to contact a highly paid security

professional. So congratulations to me.

Are you pleased?

One of the worst things I was like, are these bad enough?

I loved it. I didn't mind. It was my idea.

It may seem odd to say that reading these tweets doesn't really hurt me, but it doesn't.

I view it more as an anthropological study.

Less about one woman, me, and more about women.

Us. I know that these aren't healthy to read.

I know that they're not expanding my mind.

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