Lori Loughlin Didn't Age A Day In Prison, Kay Adams Squeezes Into A Dress & My Town Got Hammered By Tornadoes

Hey! Look at me. Power is back, WiFi is BACK, my house is still standing, and I can finally stop living like Little House on the Prairie. 

All things considered … could be worse. Hell, just yesterday I was running my coffee pot through a generator. Real American shit, you know? No, it wasn't inside the garage, animals. Ain't my first rodeo. 

It was inside the house, of course! Way easier. Way more convenient. 

Good to be back, boys and girls. Thanks to Amber for subbing in yesterday while I picked up the pieces from Milton. Frankly, he wasn't that bad over here. Well, scratch that. 

He was bad, just not in the way I assumed he would be. I've lived through 20 years worth of hurricanes down here, and never in my life have I seen a tornado outbreak quite like what I lived through Wednesday afternoon. Insane. The climate change alarmists must have been giddy just watching it. I can't even imagine. 

We'll get to it, though. 

Welcome to a Friday Nightcaps –  the one where we break out of jail with Lori Loughlin, AKA Aunt Becky, and then soar into a massive weekend of college football. Can't wait. 

What else? I've got the worst political ad of all time via the Kamala Harris team (shocker), Kay Adams stops by from the deep end, and we get to the best of the rest from a big week of #content. 

Whew. What a menu for a Friday in October!

Grab you a drink – I'm going camo can Busch Light and keeping it simple today – and settle in for a Friday 'Cap!

Tornadoes & Kamala men!

So, I'm back. But buddy, it was a wild little ride on Wednesday. Damnest thing I've ever seen. One minute, we're out in the back garage putting things away, drinking beer, thinking we had hours until things started up. 

The next – and I mean literally the next minute – we're in a torrential downpour and under a tornado warning. Tornadoes? This early in the game? It ain't even here yet. 

Didn't matter. 

My hometown of Vero Beach got smoked by not one, but two in the span of an hour on Wednesday from feeder bands off of Milton, and these sons-of-bitches packed a punch:

You ever been in a hurricane warning – a legit one – with two kids? Whoaaaaa Nellie! What a few hours.

 In the closet (not the gay kind, you animals!) with my 6-week old in his car seat, and my toddler in her bike helmet. Don't ask me questions, because I didn't ask the First Lady. I just went with it. 

Those suckers hit about three miles to the east of our house. The second one hit beachside, which now looks like a war zone – or what I assume Washington DC looks like every day. 

As for the actual hurricane itself – oddly enough, we didn't get much from that. It wasn't a great night, but nothing I couldn't sleep through. My house in DeLand took a bigger hit, which I expected. Nothing we can't bounce back from, but a couple issues I'm gonna have to address with Mr. Homeowners Insurance. 

Good thing that always goes smoothly!

OK, that's my story. Once I got WiFi back, I saw this from the Kamala team, and it made me wish I was back in the closet!

Great week, internet!

I mean … what an ad! Kudos to #TeamKamala – y'all did it. You managed to create the worst political ad in the history of the world. 

If a fat rancher, possibly (definitely) gay dude sitting on a grill, and weirdo farmer with his thumbs awkwardly in his pockets don't ooze masculinity for you undecided voters out there today … then I don't know what will!

How will Trump ever recover? 

Ah, that's how. Gotcha. Yeah, he'll be fine. 

Good try, Kamala! I'll stick with my team, though. I'm good. Choose your fighter, folks. 

OK, let's hammer out some content from the week before we hit the refresh button this weekend:

Kay, Lori, a big slate of Saturday football

Couple things …

1) Once again, remember who told you a week ago that Bob Costas was about to ruin the playoffs. Me. I did. It's why we win awards in this class, boys and girls. 

I told you one week ago TODAY that Bob was on the call for the Yankees-Royals series, and he proceeded to botch every single call possible for the next seven days. The guy is a liberal mouthpiece, a shell of himself, and will not shut up. When he does talk, it's beyond brutal. 

Once again, we were ahead of the trends. Congrats to all!

2) Kay Adams! 

She leads off today's rapid-fire portion of class to end the week with a #content dump from the pool:

What a month for Kay! The only good thing about Los Angeles. Hope her and Shams can make it work with the ESPN move. We'll see.

Next? Look who resurfaced OUT OF NOWHERE earlier this week:

Aunt Becky and Uncle Jesse! These two lovebirds stayed together through thick and thin, including Lori's pesky little prison sentence, and now they're back and better than ever. 

Looks like Lori crushed jail, too. Didn't age her a day. Not one. And it looks like daughter Olivia didn't blink an eye, either. 

Happy 25th!

Good to see the family get back to living life after the college scandal. Welcome to class, Aunt Becky! Don't be such a stranger next time. 

Finally … let's quickly address tomorrow's college football slate on the way out, because it belongs in the Hall of Fame:

My God. It's beautiful. What a day. What a solid little consolation prize after a tough week. 

For those who want to make some money – and Lord knows I need to since my fence is now gone – that Pitt-Cal game smells like an over if I've ever smelled one. 

You're welcome!

Take us home, Niners WAGs

OK, that's all for today, folks. I've got to head back home now that the streets are open again and see exactly what we're dealing with. 

I've heard I now share a backyard with my neighbors, which may not be the worst thing possible because they have a pool. 

Let's go have a big weekend while we sit on our back decks, watch football, slug beer and give Mother Nature one giant middle finger. 

See you Monday. 

OutKick Nightcaps is a daily column set to run Monday through Friday at 4 p.m. (roughly, we’re not robots).

You ready to vote Kamala now? Email me at Zach.Dean@OutKick.com.

Written by
Zach grew up in Florida, lives in Florida, and will never leave Florida ... for obvious reasons. He's a reigning fantasy football league champion, knows everything there is to know about NASCAR, and once passed out (briefly!) during a lap around Daytona. He swears they were going 200 mph even though they clearly were not.