Harry, I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange.

A Few Things That Are Fucking Awesome

--Friday Night Lights. It’s back, y’all (if you have DirecTV), and OMS – how something this big a king-hell bummer could possibly be so fucking good is a mystery that I hope they never solve. It’s hooked into that same vein of secret super-pure crystalline awesome as The Wire, Deadwood, and Mad Men – who knows where the juice comes from, just as long as it keeps coming.

--Oscar Mayer Fully Cooked Bacon. You assholes – you kept this from me, deliberately. OK, maybe you didn’t – maybe YOU didn’t know about it either. But – where has this stuff been all my life? I am the only bacon-eater in my household (so far), and no way am I going to the trouble of frying that stuff up just for me. But now, a few minutes in a toaster oven to heat and crisp it, and BAMMO! Bacon. Tasty, wonderful bacon. Fuck yeah, bacon!

--This list from 11 Points (because as you know, ten-point lists are for cowards): 11 Things You Did in High School That You’ll Still Talk About When You’re Thirty. He’s 11 for 11 on this one, kids.

--This, from my girl uncouth heathen:

It would be many years before the stars of Hollywood would shine on this face, but shine they did and old Ginger and I danced the shit out of that place. We could have tapped the hell out of every one of those Dancing with the Stars professionals, including that Derrick Hough who thinks he’s sexy with his smooth hairless chest, but let me tell you something. If you’re going to dance, there is no time for waxing and shaving and sneezing and pussyfooting around. That wouldn’t have cut it on the studio lot when we were filming for 36 straight hours a day. There were no bathroom breaks or lunch breaks or dinner breaks. The only breaks we got were leg fractures from tapping the living daylights out of Puttin’ on the Ritz. You think that I did that healthy and in my prime, Derrick Hough? You think I was a spring chicken with my whole life ahead of me and no ailments to hold me back? THINK AGAIN! I had shingles, the trots and a burst appendix. I was half dead. They had to shoot me up with liquid cocaine for the last half of that number. It was all they could do to keep me on my feet and that’s how things went back in the day, when I was on Dancing with the Stars. And you know what? I was so fucking good that the only star was me, Mr. Fred God Damn Astaire. I could top spin and fish tail and kick ball change before you knew what hit you, motherfucker. That’s what happened back in my day.

I tried to do a shorter excerpt, but I couldn’t. Go, read it all, laugh till you can’t laugh no more.

--And finally: THE YANKEES WIN! THAAAAAAAAAA YAN-KEEES WIN!!!!!!! Oh, kids – there is joy in the Gleemonex household once more, with the World Series championship back where it belongs, Derek Jeter getting back what is rightly motherfuckin’ his, Matsui-san showing that he really is part radioactive dragon-beast and also a very polite young man … and with my boy Mariano’s smile lighting up the universe, I didn’t even begrudge sharing the trophy with A-Rod or Damon (much). Holy elephant-eared SHATNER, does it feel good to win this thing again.