“Glee” Episode 207 Recap: Darn those noisy bisexual primates of Borneo

 
 

Kurt, who we learn has been spending all his free time with Blaine (cue angel song and fluttering doves), takes a more devious approach to the problem, and asks Miss Holly Holliday, the substitute teacher who took over Mr. Schue’s Spanish class, to take over Glee Club, too.

Miss Holliday, who is teaching her students to say "Lindsay Lohan has been in rehab five times" in Spanish, is at first reluctant. How, she asks Kurt, could you suggest such a thing?

Kurt gives her his patented glowing look, which we are seeing much more often now that he’s met Blaine,and says that she subbed in his English class one day and he never forgot it.

That’s when we get a flashback to Miss Holliday and friends performing… be still my heart… "Conjunction Junction."

It was perhaps the most awesome moment in the history of Glee except for when Brittany and Santana were making out and talking about scissoring, and possibly that time that Kurt’s father said he loved him and threw Finn out, and okay, it was pretty cool when Sue Sylvester … okay. You get my point. It was an extremely great moment in Glee history, but not the greatest. As was when Kurt turned to one of his classmates and stated,"You smell homeless, Brett. Homeless."

Rachel is all a-twitter over Miss Holliday stepping in, but when she starts asking them what songs they’d like to do that Mr. Schuester never let them do (flashback to Mr. Schue saying, "Come on, guys. There has to be one Journey song we haven’t done!"), they warm to her.

"There was that one Cee-Lo song," Puck says (I guess his days of singing only songs by Jews are long over), which is Miss Holliday’s cue to launch into a sanitized version of his "F–k You," now sung as "Forget You."

Which really makes me wonder, if you have to dip the song in bleach before you can sing it, why not sing another song? And yes, I mean both "making the song cleaner" and "making the song whiter" when I use the word "bleach."

Although the sheer ecstatic joyfulness of watching Kurt dance, first with Holly and then, adorably, with Santana, is enough to make me forget I ever had a political or music-critical thought in my head. So, you know … carry on dancing.

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