I used to say I didn't have a TV, and it sort of had that snotty "and if I did I'd only watch PBS" tone. After five months of living alone, however, I've spent so much time watching "television" - thanks Hulu and uTorrent - that it would be kind of pathetic if I didn't have anything to show for it.
1. David Duchovney as Hank Moody
For most people, this is reasons one through sixty-nine; anyone who's seen him in action in this character - a louche self-loathing NYC-cum-LA-based one-hit writer of a generation with degenerate tastes, an indefatigable silver tongue, and magnetic sexuality - knows what I'm talking about

2. The setting
Sunny but slightly gritty Venice Beach, the ridiculous and painfully glamorous homes in the hills, the fusion restaurants and crammed highways and dramatic all-white office spaces: the writers know these places by heart and are glorifying where they live while blowing up the pedestal, which makes the city a character (albeit an often dislikable one) all its own.

3. The dialogue
Again, this could be the writers writing what they know (um, writing), but when Hank and Karen fight about how the movie his book spawned has enveloped all his time and how her shortcomings in the relationship don't measure up to his mental distance, the hurt and the repetition of the talking points feel real. On the other hand, their precocious goth daughter probably has no real-life counterpart but her interactions with them are hilarious and illuminating. The profanity-laden smartass lines that Hank spouts alone are worth their own reason to watch; I don't care if I do have to become addicted to speed and grow five inches shorter, I want MY nickname to be Cokey Smurf.