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Andrea Peyser is not in the mood for fat quirky girls in the midst of existential crises.

Lena Dunham
Lena Dunham

Lena Dunham’s Girls is not Andrea Peyser’s preferred version of  femininity.

Andrea Peyser refuses to tolerate self denigrating women who aren’t strident sex symbols or on the way to a photo modelo shoot…

What more invigorating way than to wake oneself up than to hungrily readwhat NY Trash Post alumni columnist Andrea Peyser has to say about the goings of the world. That said yesterday morning bought Ms Peyser the best of Peyser that one could hope for. All that was missing was the blood stains off your computer screen, but then again one senses if one looks hard enough around Ms Peyser’s office they will find her glibly slitting her own wrists from time to time cause she simply enjoys watching blood drip. Which brings us to Lena Dunham, whose blood has been dripping metaphorically all over my bedroom floor since I first read Ms Peyser’s charming annihilation of her new tv show, ‘Girls,’ which she stars in, has written and directs.

And the blood shedding begins:

NY Post: All over America last night, perfectly pretty and well-adjusted young women voluntarily subjected themselves to an extreme session of humiliation and degradation.

Think: “Sex and the City’’ — for ugly people.

Last night, HBO premiered its depraved comedy about life in New York’s outer boroughs, “Girls’’ — a show as insidious and hotly anticipated as a sexually transmitted disease.

Kids, tell me you just don’t want to get on the floor and bow to Andrea? “Yes Messiah. Show me the wisdom forthwith….’

And from there Andrea goes into crucifixion mode, her disgust for self entitled hipsters, lesbians and the disillusioned in full display. One has the feeling that Andrea once accidentally trod on some pavement in Brooklyn and was forced to heave when she noticed what looked like to be dorky wanna be bumpkins who in essence aspire to be Andrea, the master of the universe but with a patina of intellectualism and moral integrity. Of course as a tabloid journalist, Andrea and I knows better.

Marnie tells Charlie to do “what men do’’ — and treat her like pond scum. Women. Can’t live with them. Can’t kill them. Can’t cancel this twisted series.

Executive-produced by Judd Apatow, of “Bridesmaids’’ fame, “Girls’’ purports to be a realistic look at 20-something New Yorkers. It should have another name:

“Men Suck.’’

As it turns out, “Girls’’ is not really about girls at all — a species uniformly presented as neurotic sex toys or psycho man-eaters.

Neurotic sex toys? I would have never guessed. Pond scum? Now that’s ribald journalism that ought to get ones juices up a notch.

And the guys in “Girls’’ are even less appetizing than the women who love and despise them. They are abusers, date rapists or pathetic doormats. Ex-boyfriends, and even fathers, are explicitly gay, which seems a 1950s method of bringing them down — by making men sleep with other disgusting creeps.

And on an on it goes, blithely smashing apart the faux word that Lena Dunham has presumptuously re created for people who in essence are wanna be’s, or who if they could find some real cahootas could actually become. But of course Andrea has special hate for them because they dare presume they are sex objects to be had, a near impossibility when instead you are a self obsessing trollop who’s never had the decency to make it on page 6 or PMC or attend a quaint fete a fete on the Upper East side where real women like Andrea live and thrive.

Never mind Andrea if these girls have no self respect and will gladly take in a lazy skater boy with the zealous apathy of a dying weed to be their boyfriend perhaps the greater man in NYC will have the courage to take on a real woman and the many others like you on? Assuming of course we don’t let the occasional blood letting scare the bejesus out of us.

Never mind, me thinks Lena Dunham’s ‘Girls,’ probably only hit on a nerve that is the staple of being a woman in the first place. Expect to see the show flourish…



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