Californication was written like some poor showrunner had six seconds to come up with a way to combine Charles Bukowski and I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, and hadn't been previously told exactly what a "Bew-cow-skee" was.
Wait, it's not the sex thing?
Hank Moody is flawed, but he maintains a superiority over everyone else in the show, solely because he's the guy who's given the one-liners, while the rest of the cast is left to say, "Hank!" or, on rare occasion, "Hank?" Every dilemma is solved simply because Hank Moody is roguish and charming. There's a certain kind of thrill that comes with this, as Hank is the wish fulfillment for any guy who wants to be a writer, except with none of the verb form of it.
This is easily contrasted with an egomaniac from another comedy: Kenny Powers in Eastbound & Down.
"Something about titties!"
Now, on the surface, it's easier to play Kenny for laughs since Danny McBride resembles a weird cousin to the entire state of South Carolina, and Duchovny is proof that the key to being a successful paranormal investigator is looking like an underwear model. But Kenny is a more interesting character because when he gets embarrassed (which is very often), he takes the full brunt of it. He is constantly humiliated, and it doesn't weaken his character. Hank Moody could've used the same treatment, but since all of his wacky situations (Hank Moody's got his dick caught in a hot single mom! How can he possibly orgasm his way out of this one?) end with him grinning and prancing away, he ends up being nothing more than a caricature that no amount of depressing blowjobs can save.