So in its fifth season, Weeds is finally showing signs of serious wear 'n' tear. But just because the characters have regressed into one-dimensional pod people whose storylines are so flat it's like the writers (not the characters) are smoking all that kush, this doesn't mean we should fault the actors, all of whom continue to bring their A-game. Least of all does it mean we should blame Mary-Louise Parker who at least continues to mesmerize with what lackluster and frequently inexplicable material she's handed. She also appears in Esquire wearing little more than a smile and an apron, holding a pie. Probably because that's as oxymoronic as a pot-dealing mom. Alongside the photo is her own thank-you note to men: one of the most exquisite single sentences, sustained entirely on commas and semicolons. A sample of Parker's gratitude after the jump.

[T]o you, boy grown-up, the gentleman, soldier, professor, or caveman, the fancy man with initials on your towels and salt on your chocolates, to you and to that guy at the concession stand; thank you for the tour of the vineyard, the fire station, the sound booth, thank you for the kaleidoscope, the Horsehead Nebula, the painting, the truth; to you who carries me across the parking lot, up the stairs, to the ER, to roll-away or rice mat; to you who shows up every so often only to confuse and torment, and you who stays in orbit, always, to my left and steady, you stood up for me, I won't forget that; to you, the one who can't figure it out and never will, and you who lost the remote, the dog, or your way altogether; to you, wizard, you sang in my ear and brought me back from the dead, you tell me things, make me shiver; to the ones who destroyed me, even if for a minute, and to the ones who grew me, consumed me, gave me my heart back times ten ...