Shameless

... is the name of one of my favourite Ani DiFranco songs (which is pretty much the same as being one of my favourite songs full stop). If you haven't heard it, I recommend it as the perfect song for those moments where you need to slam round the house scratching the itch of existence.

But more topically, Shameless is absolutely my favourite TV programme.

And tonight was one of its finest episodes. It turns out ultra-medicated Sheila killed her first husband with a fondue fork and buried him in the garden. Pisshead Frank gets cold feet, convinced she's about to off him as well. But salt of the earth Veronica (who was after the corpse's gold to finance her IVF) discovered the truth: that Sheila killed him because he used to beat her and burn her with hot medallions (of the Elizabeth Duke type, as opposed to the pork type). She told Frank, who (also realising that she'd opened a joint bank account for them, giving him access to an unprecedented amount of beer and E money) nicked a random kid's BMX to get to the police station before Sheila confessed all.

Frank is a fuckwit and a sponger and an addict and a very bad father, but he's not violent and he doesn't hate anyone more than he hates himself. He's the archetypal 21st century waster dad. And the scene where he did the right thing and told Sheila he was nothing without her... and you suddenly realised, well, actually he *is* the best thing that ever happened to her. Genius.

As Frank said himself... Vene vidi vol au vent - let's have a fuckng party!

joella