YOU don't get to do anything to America's fanged little angel. Except pretend to loathe her when you really want to know her better. You can try praying for her soul.
My advice? You'd be better off tending to your own inner-sickness of a garden instead, 'cause, hon, after what she does to our delicate sensibilities and psyche, that's the only place you got left to go.
Here's an excerpt from Slate:
Her (Silverman's) best jokes are thought experiments in the internal logic of political correctness: "I want to get an abortion, but my boyfriend and I are having trouble conceiving."
A Playboy interviewer, probing for something salacious, once asked Silverman if she had a nickname for her vagina. She answered "Faggot"— a throwaway joke that manages to kink sexual identity into such an ingenious pretzel it could fuel a doctoral dissertation.
Full story here.