Topless drawler Matthew Mcconaughey is now the “creative director” for Wild Turkey bourbon, producing this ad in which he declares, “I found a story here in Wild Turkey.” Now see if you can tell it without talking, man.

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How do you properly measure the substance of a year? Time spent with family? The amount of retweets you've garnered on Twitter? Or perhaps the hours you've wasted watching trash TV? Comebacks, for me, are the true measure of a year—stories about resilience and drive and hard work. Here, before we say goodbye to 2014, the year's best comebacks.

A British man who fell into a coma after a brutal car accident says the worst part of the whole ordeal was finding out he wasn't Matthew McConaughey.

Get a load of this idiot.

Jim Carrey's spot-on Matthew McConaughey impression was the buried lede from this week's SNL. McConaughey's self-serious Lincoln commercial is old news at this point, but not as old as the recycled Mask and Cable Guy jokes from that unwatchable family reunion sketch.

Matthew McConaughey, actor, chest-thumper, and true detective, has done some serious ethical calculus regarding the name of Washington D.C.'s football team. And after weighing the history of "redskin" as an ethnic slur against the "little bit of fire and some oomph" the team's emblem brings, he's made his final decision: The name stands.

At some point, Matthew McConaughey's acting went from alright (alright alright) to Oscar-caliber, and he's happy to share the secrets of his success with the football team at his alma mater, the University of Texas. Secrets like: Think about how good you are, and then be better than that.

Brad Pitt and Matthew McConaughey may have been separated by a busy street, but they still found a way to share the party.

He said it in Dazed and Confused. He said it at the Oscars. He's even selling T-shirts. But where did Matthew McConaughey's catchphrase, "Alright, alright, alright," come from?

Matthew McConaughey's humming and rhythmic chest thumping in The Wolf of Wall Street started as something the actor did to relax between takes, but Leonardo DiCaprio liked it so much that he convinced Scorsese to add it to the film. And now there's a remix.

Which ancient, neurotic pervert got more applause at the Oscars on Sunday night—Woody Allen or God?

It’s easy to take for granted how far gay-straight relations have come in the past 30 years. It’s so easy, in fact, that David Carr published a piece in the New York Times last week wondering “What if Gawker tried to out an anchor at Fox News and no one cared?”—the implication being that the culture had "moved on" from caring about someone's sexual orientation.

In William Friedkin's Killer Joe, Gina Gershon's character Sharla is forced to give head to a chicken leg, a penis stand-in held at the crotch of Matthew McConaughey's anti-hero Killer Joe Cooper. Like the peeing scene in Last House on the Left, the marathon gang rape of I Spit on Your Grave, the wire torture that caps Audition and the turtle (and everything else) in Cannibal Holocaust, it is one of those scenes – a bit of celluloid that will define the film's legacy. The image of Gershon's bee-stung lips wrapped around a chicken leg is not something you see everyday or any other day, for that matter, and if you remove yourself from any emotional connection, you can appreciate this as a minor innovation in the catalog of things movies have done to freak people out, a stand-out in the canon of cinematic depravity.

America's cousin who seems nice enough but your mom still doesn't want you to hang out with him so much, Matthew McConaughey, announced on Twitter Wednesday that he and wife Camila Alves are expecting their third child. He also took the opportunity to shill for a totally chill nonsense company he invented.

Skip to the 1:20 mark for what you didn't see in Magic Mike: Channing Tatum making Hollywood's best male ass clap. What will he do next to keep us fanning ourselves collectively? The world is such an exciting place.

Metrosexuality had to live and die for us to get to this new, at-ease, intimately homosocial era of masculinity, at least as it is depicted in pop culture. It's a time of bromance, of straight dudes getting drag-queen makeovers on reality TV, of straight soldiers lip-synching like drag queens on YouTube, of Chris Brown and Justin Bieber intimately duetting, of Drake and Justin Bieber intimately duetting, of rappers implicitly endorsing gay marriage. And no film has better encapsulated the new masculinity zeitgeist that values self security over rigid, external notions quite as definitively as Steven Soderbergh's male-stripper saga Magic Mike.

Too-good-to-be-true male stripper flick Magic Mike isn't even in theaters yet, and its screenwriter is already adapting it into a musical. Seriously.

If you have kids of your own, you know how insane it is when some famous idiot like Angelina Jolie is talking to a magazine and is like, "Oh, we all hang out at home together and watch movies in bed!" Of course you do. I'm sure flying to Cambodia to shoot ludicrous Louis Vuitton ads only takes five minutes out of your day. The rest is all dedicated to you and your 12,000 little ones.

The release date for the second movie has been announced and it is a long time from now. Also today: the end of Desperate Housewives, two Southerners finally get together, and it's goodbye to the gay on Gossip Girl.