This episode has everything: pool sex, Olivia Thirlby, fun poppy lesbians, Jamie Clayton, the flu, Jillian Mercado, divorce papers, a gift card, an engagement party and a traditional lesbian building furniture with her bare hands!

We’ve got some breakups and breakdowns and questionable drunken decisions and a THRIVING new throuple and a school play with a very small cast and also Quiara’s still in town and she’s got a big surprise for Shane!

Who buys a bar and who gets punched in the face and who wears double-denim and who goes to church and who sat on a doll and who wants to reserve the Crystal Ballroom? There’s only one way to find out: reading this recap.

Bette would like some more wine!

Let’s take a little trip down memory lane by retro-recapping the Dinah Shore episode, in which the lesbians also take a trip down memory lane, which makes this recap very meta.

The new trailer for The Real L Word is out and Riese recaps it for ya. You know what else is out? Anyone But Me episode 7 and YOUR MOM. Plus, Molly Ringwald talks about gay stuff, Chris Colfer talks about Glee, and Lilo is seeking a restraining order against her dad.

If you forget the whole child-rape-flashback thing, the Papa Porter dying thing, the Helena-wasting-time-Tina-could-be-with-Bette thing, the paper-dolls/Baruch Atah LaLa Hoolehay Heeyhoooo thing, the Marc pantsing himself thing (when he really should just write “fuck me” on his chest) and the Jenny/Random Elder thing, Loud and Proud is one of the series’ best episodes. Let me rephrase this: if “The L Word” was “The Dana & Alice Show,” Loud and Proud would be one of THAT show’s best episodes.

Just fyi, no one wants to look like they’re moving furniture when they’re fucking. In other news, Adele is creepily turning into Jenny and Phyllis’s daughter is a babe.

Jenny is more Jenny than EVER this season, Shane fucks it up again, Helena’s even pretty in jail, and someone commits arson! arson! Oh yeah, and Alice and Tasha are cutehotadorablesexybeautifuletcetc.

When in doubt, dance. Dance, I say! Dance! Dance all over the stage, change your clothes, tear up the floor, waltz and tango and skip and mambo your smokin’ hot bod down to the village square, hook up with the Pied Piper of WeHo and dance your way out of regularly scheduled programming into the idea well of death.

Talk about NOT ending with a bang. Really IFC, it’s one thing to weigh down your show’s sixth season with an endless parade of unnecessary melodramatic plot devices — a murder, a pregnant man, a stolen film, a botched adoption from homophobic out-of-towners, two out-of-the-blue love triangles — and quite another thing to, when the season ends, not even “use” these devices to infuse the series finale with aforementioned melodrama.

Everything in LA is too hot to live. The ladies of The L Word have a showdown a la “The Godfather” and then everyone goes home [or to an elevator] and has a lot of sex while Freezepop plays in the back.

Next time you move to LA to be with your swim coach boyfriend, uncover lifelong lesbian longings via a literary-minded French seductress, get caught by boyfriend, get married to boyfriend in Vegas, road-trip back home on ’shrooms, discover your French lover’s Sugar Mama’s back in town, break up with the boyf and the girlf, move into your ex-husband’s vacated home, get lady-lover Shane to move in and consequently…well, you know what comes next.