Just the Lady Parts is a new TV review series wherein Jezebel reviews just the lady parts.


It’s been 66 days since the castrated, eye-less body of Ben Caspere was found sitting off to the side of the Pacific Coast Highway and our True Detectives are once again scattered. Paul is back to dealing with the starlet who lied and claimed he tried to coerce her into giving him a blowjob, Ray is doing security work for Frank, and Ani is splitting her time between her new demoted position in the evidence cage and being the only woman in her sexual harassment class.

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While some people might feel brought down by similar circumstances, our gal Ani is having a grand ol’ time using dirty language to rile up her fellow perverts. “What can I say,” she tells the group’s leader (who—really—is simply trying to help). “I just really like big dicks…I want to have trouble handcuffing the thing.” And the crowd goes wild!

So what now? With Ray and Paul being kept busy with custody battles, pending parenthood and moms who tell them that they “coulda been a scrape job,” and Ani testing out a new career as a dick joke comedian, what are the chances that the band gets back together? Fairly low, but somehow it happens thanks to the newly found conscience of the state’s attorney, Brianna Barksdale. She sees how deep the corruption runs in the state of California and figures that these broken detectives are the only ones who can fix it. (Quick Q: Has she seen any of their previous work? Maybe—just maybe—they’re not the best ones for the job? Eh, whatever.)

Look, for as much as I like to give this troop of professional, crime-solving idiots a hard time, I do have to hand it to Ani that, while the other detectives are wallowing in their own misery (and newly shaved faces), she’s still out there finding clues and putting the wheels in motion to get to the bottom of the Caspere case. Heck! Next week, she’s even going undercover to a sex party, so DON’T YOU DARE tell me that women don’t get equal screen time on this show. In fact, I’d say that women, Colin Farrell’s bolo tie, and random men (like Rick Springfield) spitting out their own teeth all probably get equal True Detective billing and for that I’m grateful.

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Another thing I’m grateful for: The way that every line spoken on this show sounds like it’s being delivered while the actor was taking a massive dump. (Strain plus a little bit of a growl equals pure gravitas.) Hey, maybe Season 2 is salvageable after all!


Contact the author at madeleine@jezebel.com.

Image via HBO.