I hate, hate, hate Amy Schumer, to whose noxious show (and gaping vagina) I am deflected, by Hulu, immediately my favorite show "Casual" ends--
but when I type my plaint into Google a little Reddit appears which says, "You've confused her with Lena Dunham." And I reply, "Soulless moron, the word is conflated, not confused! There is no difference between Amy Schumer (and her vagina) and Lena Dunham (and hers)."
I burn hot. I tend to exhaust people in conversation, like Margaret Fuller did Carlyle. Which leaves me (but apparently not Margaret) always wishing I'd shut up sooner. I have quite a few friends and not many enemies, but I'm very proud of the few I do have. There is consensus among my friends about me, which is how I know to write about myself. What my enemies think of me I have no idea. That, of course, could be dangerous.
The list of interests and favorites is absurdly partial and half-assed, particularly as to music and books. It's the stupid format of the blog itself, as given, that, of course, I color outside the lines and burst the seams of.
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