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" I like to imagine that every episode of Girls begins with a pitch meeting.  &amp;quot;What are we exploring this week, boss?&amp;quot; someone asks Lena Dunham. &amp;quot;Marnie&amp;#039;s complicated feelings for Booth Jonathan as a reflection of her own unattainable art world aspirations? Jessa&amp;#039;s relationship-sabotaging patterns and how they mirror her own fractured family life?&amp;quot; Dunham leans back in her chair, fingers intertwined close to her chest, and says, &amp;quot;Actually, this week I was thinking I would just chill out in an awesome brownstone all episode and have a bunch of sex with that guy from Little Children. What&amp;#039;s his name\u2026 Patrick something? Patrick Stewart? No, that&amp;#039;s not right. I&amp;#039;ll IMDb it. But sex, mostly. Maybe we&amp;#039;ll play some ping-pong. Everybody else can just take the week off. Cool beans?&amp;quot; I should point out that I don&amp;#039;t know how television works (definitely not like this). Heck, I don&amp;#039;t even know how televisions work (laser beams? tiny demons?). But I do know that this show felt pretty self-indulgent, with Dunham putting herself at the center of what&amp;#039;s called a &amp;quot;bottle episode&amp;quot; (OMG, is that an industry term? Maybe I do know how television works!), one that requires a single location and a minimal number of cast members doing lots of talking. Or boning.  Now, of course, we get a little Ray action before Hannah goes off and gets her Josh (Patrick WILSON) on, but he&amp;#039;s being a total jerk. Why? As a guy, I feel like I should be offering perspective here, a window into the male psyche, but I&amp;#039;ve got no clue. It probably has something to do with domestic life with Shosh. But while we&amp;#039;re acting as our gender&amp;#039;s representatives, can someone tell me why Hannah&amp;#039;s wearing what appears to be a onesie from Buy Buy Baby&amp;#039;s 12-to-18-month-old inventory? Bothered me all show. Hannah shows up at Joshua&amp;#039;s door to confess her trash-dumping sins, and you know things are about to get sexy. Here&amp;#039;s why: Porn movies start exactly like this (or so I&amp;#039;ve been told). The only thing that would have made this more ridiculous would have been if Hannah had breathlessly whispered, &amp;quot;Did anyone order a pizza?&amp;quot; I&amp;#039;m actually waiting for the inevitable porn parody of Girls, which will introduce us to Hannah Whorevath (played by Lena Done &amp;#039;Em), a single Brooklyn girl looking to achieve her two greatest dreams: Becoming the literary voice of her generation and sleeping with a bunch of dudes from Williamsburg. The acting will be much worse, but if my calculations are correct, the net boobage will be about the same.  The rest of this episode is just a jumble of writhing bodies and naked table tennis (someone is going to get hurt, you guys) and conversations that get way too real for Joshua. I don&amp;#039;t know if it was the &amp;quot;punch me in the chest&amp;quot; story or the quoting of Fiona Apple&amp;#039;s New York Magazine profile that convinces him that he&amp;#039;s opened a Pandora&amp;#039;s Box of crazy, but, gals, as a rule, neither of those stories is appropriate for your next semi-anonymous brownstone sex marathon.  So Hannah walks away to some sad Charlie Brown music, and even takes out the trash on her way. Hopefully she&amp;#039;ll run into some friends before next week&amp;#039;s episode. Feeling lonely, Hannah? Maybe you just need to get out more.  For more musings from David, follow him on  Twitter. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.cosmopolitan.com/entertainment/celebs/a4194/girls-season-two-episode-five-recap/>