Cut. Print. Adele is getting creep-city but we don’t care. There are court cases to be won and lesbian Turkish oil wrestling to be done.

The last 20 minutes were some of the best I’ve seen on this show. It was fun and quality and featured all those verbs they sing about in that opening song we all cream over. Um, fighting, winning, fucking, whatevs. Up until that? Blah blah podcasts blah love cindy blah. You get the picture.

Why are there twice as many lesbian squabbles as lesbian sexy moments in this show? Oh yeah, it’s because this is the way that we liveeeeeeeee. This is the one where Ilene reminds us all that men are disgusting, loathsome creatures by making henry cut his toenails.

Remember when times were simpler? Harken back–before Dana died, before Betty existed–and maybe you’ll remember the line that started it all, the line that called to us like a siren in the distance: “Bette. Come Here. I’m Ovulating.”

Despite the fact that angus is a lying low-down nanny-fucking motherfucker, GIRLS ACTUALLY HAVE SEX THIS EPISODE. Even Kit and Papi. Ew, we know.

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.

Episode 606 of The L Word, titled “Lactose Intolerant,” is the worst thing I’ve seen on television since Episode 604 of The L Word. Howevs; whereas 604 was calmly terrible — bumbling softly along its housework-heavy path of mediocrity — 606 was outrageously, actively, aggressively terrible.

It’s almost Valentine’s Day and Riese is sending out all her love. Luckily there’s lots to love in this episode with everyone looking very Shane today, the lesbian phone tree, Tasha being generally adorable, and of course: Angela Robinson.

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.

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.