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.

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.

“We’ll comb desperately and hungrily through minutes upon minutes of storylines we don’t care about on shows we’ve never seen before — aliens! middle schoolers! telenovelas! big brother 10! — to reach the two-minute morsel we care about more than we probably should: the holy grail of promised homosexual content.”

Of all foods: french fries. Of all underthings: boybriefs. . Of all girls: Shane. Of all cheekbones: Tasha’s. Of all L Word writers: Angela Robinson. Of all cities: New York City. Of all songs: “Just Like Heaven,” by the Cure. It’s just … such a perfect song, and the last song I ever expected to hear during an L Word sex scene!

“As your resident Australian girl-on-girl, I feel it’s my obligation to update you on the most important thing to ever happen in the history of Lesbians in Australia (since the birth of Portia De Rossi): the torrid affair between Charlie and Joey.”

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.

Wanda Sykes has a show you guys! Also crazy stuff happens on Gossip Girl and Heroes, and per ushe, we love Portia.

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.

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.

Why oh why won’t Chaikenbake give us a decent [or any] sex scene on The L Word this season? In a world where all we seen on screen is heterosexual sex, we need somewhere where are desires are not just validated but portrayed.

Better is riding a tractor, Jenny is riding a raft, and Paige is riding Shane in the ’50s. Shining moments include scenes with the Lynch [who can do no wrong] and Dana Fairbanks [may she rest in peace].

Xena the warrior princess shows up for another round of adoration from her number one fans: the lesbians. Also, shocker: Jenny DIED.

In which Carly loves Dollhouse, falls asleep during Grey’s, and should probably start watching Skins.

Oh look! A special visit from The Ditty Bops! In this installment of our favorite saga, Alice says “what the frickin’ frack?!,” Max stlll has an unfortunately soulpatch, and Alice and Shane make us remember why vandalism can be fun.

In a countdown of the best scenes of season four, we start with Jenny calling Stacey Merkin a vagina wig and take a break with the basketball game at number six. Scenes one through five are coming atcha soon.

Good news: on a scale of one to ten, this episode was “not bad!” There was a surprising amount of sex from miss i-never-give-the-girls-what-they-want chaiken, it was directed by Jamie Babbit, Foxy Brown came to the jailhouse, and Inconceivable showed up from ‘The Princess Bride.’

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.

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.

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.

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.