L Word Pick Up Lines (paraphrased where need be)

• "I know you helped to euthanize my dog but would you like to go puppy shopping?"
• "We should be there to support your underwear."
• "Would you like to come in for a bite of my grandmother's meatloaf?"
• "The more I'm afraid of something, the more I have to do it."
• "There's more than one way to pay off a poker debt."

• "Would you like to get it on in my scrap metal pile?"
• "I didn't know you had a type."
• "I know I don't know you but do you want to join me at a B&B in Solvang where I was supposed to have a romantic getaway with my life partner?"
• "I didn't ask you to fight George Bush's stupid fucking war."
• And finally, "You're looking very Shane today."

Already at the mid-point of the glam gals’ season 4, "Luck Be a Lady" kick starts in high fashion with a nearly nude and wholly unavailable, Shane emblazoned on a poster so huge, you can trace the happy trail vein that runs from her tummy to her somewhat less than private parts.

Hot-shot lesbian director Angela Robinson cuts to a 180-degree shot of the real Shane taking her first gander at the “You’re Looking Very Shane Today" Hugo Boss undies ad campaign and she’s mortified—which is completely antithetical to the cool visage that’s about to be pasted on billboards and bus stops across L.A. Chuffed Hugo Boss publicists flank little Shane, calling her their new “it” girl.

“It’s saying, you wanna fuck me but you can’t fuck me,”—not since she’s taken a post-Carmen self-imposed celibacy vow anyway—a giddy Hugo Boss go-fer tells Shane.

To promote the Shane look, she’s required in the flesh—as it were—at a film premiere.

“I don’t know if I can get a babysitter,” says our fave recovering lothario and likely “Mother of the Year," candidate.

Credits roll, Betty sings… and it’s time to sing along, take a last minute pee break, feed the cat or get a snack.

Oh-so clever Robinson, who’s also credited for writing the episode, achieves a magnificent editing feat that’s a big-girls’ version of the kids’ game “Telephone,” but this time it’s with hot, gossipy gay gals in a circular phone conversation that begins and ends with Alice and Shane. And the centerpiece of the hilarious bit is one frustrated Bette, looking like she’s on the verge of diving off the Hollywood sign.

The sequence—reminiscent of Robert Altman’s remarkable opening to The Player, only not in a single take—opens with Alice dialing up Shane to bitch about Phyllis the lovelorn Chancellor / stalker who can’t get over Alice. Innocuous Alice is apparently a dynamo in the sack. Who can blame Phyllis?

Shane, too busy grinding her teeth over her imminent celeb status, ala Markie Mark’s entrée into Hollywood, can’t help Alice. And our little Alice, the nosey-parker extraordinaire, immediately clings to Shane’s big opening—the Roll the Dice opening that is—and plans a night out for the gals. But Shane, fearful of risking even more exposure than she’s gotten from slutting around with her thousand-plus ladies, wants to keep the event on the DL.

“We should be there to support your underwear,” Alice says. Advocating Shane’s underwear unveiling, Alice gets on the horn with Bette. Before Alice gets a nary a word in, Bette admonishes Alice for breaking horny Chancellor Kroll’s heart.

Using slight hyperbole, Bette tells Alice, “She’s completely torturing my staff. It’s a fucking bloodbath over here.” It’s kind of a hoot to imagine Cybill Shepherd wielding a battle-ax and beheading underlings over Alice’s sexual prowess.

Crestfallen over Alice’s dumping, Phyllis dials in to Bette to ask if the object of her affection has called. It’s tough to know if Phyllis is mourning lost love or merely a hot piece of ass. Chancellor Kroll waxes to Bette that the sex, was “incredible, stellar and earth-shattering.” Welcome to sunny side of the street Phyllis.

Deliciously cute and sloppy Helena, recumbent on a pile of tossed-off and rumpled Donna Karan and Armani lesbian power suits and covered in Cheetos bags, rings her roomie Alice to inform her that they’re out of milk.

Now Papi’s on the other line looking for an extra ticket hook-up for her silent and sexy girl Tasha. Meanwhile, Paps lets it slip that Tasha might think Alice is cute.

“She thinks I’m cute?" Alice—sounding like Rudolph in the holiday TV classic—asks. “I’m sensing a love connection, “ Papi says. Who knows about the love part, but judging from Alice and Tasha’s motorcycle madness during the credits, they’re gonna make a connection alright.

Hoping for an in to the hottest poker game in town, Papi asks Alice if she can hook her up with socialite Catherine Rothberg’s private poker tournament, which caps off the premiere. Poke her? Okay, I did that puerile joke last week. Admittedly basketball deficient, Alice cops to a poker deficiency as well, although Chancellor Kroll might beg to differ.

Back to beleaguered Bette. Her artist dujour Jodi Lerner—with her shadow, I mean interpreter Tom—plows in to the office telling Bette to stop acting aloof since they nearly locked lips around a wisp of pot smoke.

“You’re wicked hot but if you want to pretend that it never happened, I’m okay with that,” Jodi tells Bette, who’s giving her best “whatever could you mean?” face.

Exit Jodi, enter Alice via the phone and Bette urging the erstwhile heartbreaker to break up with Phyllis, to which Alice protests that she already broke it off with the tenacious and married, powerhouse.

“Some lesbians—you know what—you have to break up with them twice,” Bette says. Ain’t it the truth Bette…or three times, or maybe you have to go straight to filing the restraining order?

Meanwhile, Shane’s made her way to the Planet for her usual seven espresso shots to jumpstart her day. By the time she walks through the door, word’s traveled to Jenny, who’s already at the Planet and on the phone with Alice. Jenny’s keyed in to Shane’s boy-undies debut. Shane tells Alice, “You’re fucking killing me.”

And Bette—her skin still looking as fresh as spring flowers—says, “I’m going to kill myself,” and tells Jenny or Shane—I lost track at this point. “Tell her to tell Alice to call Phyllis and break it off.” Phew! That’s a mouthful.

As if this weren’t all wild enough Jenny’s / Debbie’s phone rings, Shane answers wanting to know who Debbie is. Reliably pathological, Jenny says, “Debbie is my childhood nickname.” At least she’s consistently out of her mind.

It’s Saint Leslie of the Holy Order of Hot Vets. Carrying out her nefarious plan to out Leslie as humanly fallible, Jenny devises a wicked ploy to lure Leslie into the Shecter web of deceit. Not content to merely euthanize old Sounder, now Jenny hopes to entice Leslie to puppy shop with her. But alas, Leslie’s girlfriend “the Vagina-wig” planned a romantic get-away to California’s Danish getaway Solvang. Cuckoo Jenny is her own worst enemy. “I did exactly what you said,” Leslie says, about Jenny’s pep talk to give Stacey Merkin an ultimatum about being a more emotionally available girlfriend.

The sign of a true nutcase, Jenny’s heart barely beats once before she hangs up with Leslie, borrows a stranger’s cell and calls Stacey Merkin posing as one of her other myriad of personalities. She makes Sybil look positively singular-minded. Posing as Sophia Mancuso, editor of Si magazine, Jenny lures career-climbing Stacey away from the hot vet under the auspices of Stacey landing a one on one –interview that is—with Shane, at the premiere. Sophia, er Debbie, er Jenny offers Stacey a phony “pressa-passa” to the premiere and Stacey bites.

“Big-a Kiss-a to you,” Jenny says. Now Jenny’s got the Italians and PETA pissed off her. Based on her Italian stereotyping, she’ll be wearing a pair of trendy, cement, ballet slippers and swimming with the manatees soon enough.

Just short of tearing out her gorgeous dark locks of hair that most anyone with a live hormone would want to run their hands through, Bette’s still fielding Phyllis’ paranoia over Alice.

“Do you think Alice is seeing someone else?” she asks. Bette replies that Alice probably needed some space. What is Bette thinking? That’s a huge can of worms. “Did she say she needed space?” asks Phyllis? Ugggg. What friend hasn’t been there?

So heartrending. Phyllis admits she’s scared. Bette loses the connection and just as she’s about to take a breath, Tina slams through the door. “How fucking hard is it to get you on the phone?” she demands.

“Apparently not very," exasperated Bette says. Mama T’s gone ahead and enrolled baby Angelica in the Beverly Montessori pre-school, which pisses off Mama B., who refuses to agree to send Angelica to such a pedestrian over-achievers’ pre-school. All about the education, Dean Porter says they’ll pay whatever it takes to get Angelica the best possible education.

A rung down on the education ladder, Tina says she’s not paying millions just to send Angelica to school with Diane Keaton’s kids. How the hell old are Diane Keaton’s kids—40?

Tina continues her tirade telling Bette she won’t allow, “You’re overachieving psycho-dysfunction stress out our kid before she’s three.” But Tina—besides the shiny gorgeous hair, the big brown eyes, the cut deltoids, and the perfectly-shaped breasts, that’s what makes Bette so hot. It’s just pre-school, Tina says, “crayons.” And she turns on her heel.

“It’s not just crayons,” Bette shouts half-heartedly. “It’s a fucking Ivy League education!—So naïve….” She trails off. So sexy when Bette gets all uber-academic. If only she’d lie around naked spouting off about Dadaism, Duchamp and the surrealists.

The L Word’s favorite boy and longest male relationship, Bette’s assistant James pokes his head in following Tina’s exit, to tell Bette that Phyllis is on line one.

“Fuck you James,” she shouts. “Just fuck you!” Hilarious.

Prepping the apartment for Papi’s poker-playing lessons, Alice cleans around Helena, who’s just managing to don some clothes other pajama pants. “Helena, get your pants off the chips,” Alice tells the poor little rich girl as Papi and her entourage arrive, Tasha in tow. Ever the gracious hostess, Alice scrambles to offer hot, laconic Tasha a brew.

While Papi enlightens her two former one-offs Alice and Helena with lessons in poker and life, Bette prepares for another kind of education—one that involves both hands. She asks James to find her the best Website for learning to Sign. Hmmm. It seems Bette’s looking for deeper communication with Jodi.

Manny Angus takes Angelica to visit Mama B. and gets a verbal ass-whooping’ from Kit’s baby sis who accuses the bugger of “fucking a nanny,” behind Kit’s back. But even Angus knows where his bread is buttered. Kit’s not only upholding his fledgling career but she’s a damn fine woman. Nobody drops Foxy Brown for a vaguely European au pair. He suggests confessing but Bette, who’s been on the cheating side, says, “Why? So you can break her heart and destroy her trust in you?” It doesn’t bode well for Bette’s ethics but she’s got a point.

Hot Mama B. kisses Angelica and says, “Mama B’s gotta put out some fires,” but judging from Bette’s upcoming scene, it’s fair to say that she’s about to start some fires.

Back at the too-cute-to-be-true house of Alice and Helena, Papi’s doling out poker advice, like “It’s all about deception,” when she tells one of her babes, “I love you too.”

Lesson numbers two, three and four include leaving emotion at the door, playing the hand you’re dealt and not getting involved. Cut to Max’s office where the best-qualified worker at the company—a woman—was passed over for a promotion in favor of a boy’s boy. Max supports his co-worker Megan and encourages her to sue the company.

Poor Max, damned if he does and if he doesn’t. Megan says, “You’re a member of the boys club. A nice member but a member none-the-less.”

As if fielding her boss’s lesbian crush, and her ex-partner’ anger weren’t’ enough, Bette’s busily learning Sign Language. She’s got her three center fingers in something that resembles the Girl Scout Promise—which could come in handy, if you catch my drift. Genius Bette practically masters Signing in an hour and heads to Jodi’s studio. Outfitted in coveralls and handling a drill, the scrap-metal sculptress is deep into creating, until she spies a teary-eyed Bette walking toward her.

“You scare me,” Bette signs. And she should be scared. Jodi’s pretty intense, especially with all of those power tools.

But Jodi’s no fool. She knows how to land Bette. “The more I’m afraid of something, the more I know I have to do it.” Damn, what a line. That Jodi is one smooth operator.

“The more I’m afraid of something, the more I have to do it. The more I think I might die from it, the more I have to do it,” Jodi continues. “I don’t want to die right now,” says a vulnerable Bette. Die? Die and go to heaven is more like it with these two. Trepidatious, but not too scared to recognize a great lay when she sees it, Bette takes a step closer to Jodi. And Jodi kisses Bette’s hand—her instrument of communication. Bette kisses Jodi’s hand back before they begin the deep, open-mouthed kisses. And Bette cries, ostensibly for taking a leap into the unknown.

Despite the cynicism lurking in my marrow, my stomach flipped when they kissed each other’s hands. Either the scene was especially touching or I need to get off my computer and find some live, in the flesh stimulation.

The pair of big-brained beauties weaves through Jodi’s studio shedding clothes as they go. They’re at times blocked by bars and wires that symbolize tandem leap of faith out of isolation. Who knows, but it sounds good right? Finally they’re fucking, sitting up and rocking face to face in Bette’s fave position, like she and Tina did in the pilot episode. Mmmmmm.

It appears that Helena’s a poker savant as she cleans up at Papi’s game. Another of Papi’s girlies walks in and a fight ensues. Tough-assed Tasha breaks it up shouting at Papi to “control your bitches,” but not before Alice takes an errant elbow to the eye.

A chivalrous Tasha accompanies Alice to the emergency room, where Alice muses that a black eye might look kind of cute for the premiere. Paramedics haul bodies in on stretchers like an episode of E.R., minus Maura Tierney.

“It’s like fucking Iraq in here,” Alice says, pissing Tasha off. It turns out that Tasha didn’t do time in the big house, she did a turn in Iraq in the National Guard. A tad defensive, Tasha says she was off fighting for the country while Alice was driving her cute little car to the beauty salon. At least Alice drives a Mini. That can’t guzzle too much gas can it?

“I didn’t ask you to fight George Bush’s stupid fucking war!” Alice says, sending Tasha out the door. But Alice shouts out to Tasha before she lets the hottie slip through her fingers. They make nice and continue to wait it out in the ER.

Misogyny runs rampant at the water coolers in Max’s office. He overhears the “boys,” calling Megan a bitter bitch for threatening to sue over the job. Opening the Pandora’s Box of job-related issues, Max plays against the boys’ team and outs himself to his boss to prove that the company discriminates against women.

Decked out in a tux, Shane arrives at Paige—the milf’s—house to drop off Shay. Like a modern-day lesbian Cinderella staying home from the Ball, Paige makes a pass at Shane. But Shane’s afraid too. She tells Paige she doesn’t want to fuck things up. Heck, Angus banged the nanny. What’s stopping Shane from getting with the babysitter? Paige offers to be a friend to Shane. Sure, like that’s not just a waiting game.

At the premiere, Dawn Weiner, I mean Stacey Merkin can’t get her red-carpet hook-up with her phony press credentials. And Jenny’s headed to Solvang with Leslie.

On the red carpet, Shane’s flanked by a pair of “You’re Looking Very Shane Today” wannabes, while security drags Stacey off the red carpet. “Aren’t you the Vagina-wig Shane shouts?”

In a B&B in Solvang, Jenny and Leslie—who’s sporting bobby pins and a bunny tee-shirt—sip wine and flirt shamelessly. Leslie, torn between her girlfriend and Mia Kirshner’s perfect mouth, kisses Jenny and the two get into a shirts-off make out session. Feeling maybe a pang of real emotion, Jenny says there’s something she has to tell Leslie and hopes Leslie will forgive her. Little loony Jenny does cop to being crazy about Leslie. It’s tough to tell if Jenny’s sincere or if Mia’s just that good. But before Jenny gets into the nasty details of her deception, Stacey shows up at the door apologizing for bailing on Leslie.

“That’s Jennifer Fucking Shecter, the lunatic whose book I reviewed,” Stacey says. Understandably, Leslie bolts from the scene but it’s gotta be a rough call. Yeah, Jenny’s nuts, but she’s so much cuter than Stacey. And Stacey’s ethics are questionable at best.

Following their art-infused fuck-fest, Bette and Jodi engage in a romantic meal out. Everything’s going swimmingly until Bette brings up Angelica. “I don’t like kids,” Jodi says. “They get in the way of work and sex. They’re a hassle.”

“Wow,” is all the often academically-verbose Bette, can say.

At the premiere, Alice goes fishing with a long pole. Tasha lets it drop that she hooked up with Papi back in the day—a bad sexual match. Papi’s not Tasha’s type, Tasha says and Alice says, “I didn’t know you had a type.” So obvious Alice. How long do you have to be into girls to know that Papi isn’t Tasha’s type?

“So you like girly girls,” Alice asks casting her line.

She might be indigent but Helena looks slamming in a tux jacket that opens to her navel. She must be using that fancy two-sided tape to hold her breasts in place. A poker convert, Helena joins Catherine Rothberg’s VIP poker tourney. And Papi, in a pirate shirt doles out the final rule. “House always wins,” she says.

After Jodi’s dinner announcement, Bette arrives home alone and dragging her heels. Mangus says he’s broken it off with the nanny and asks Bette about the date.

“It sucked,” she says. Awwww and Angelica’s toys meld into the camera frame underscoring Bette’s dilemma.

At the poker table, Helena’s feeling lucky and “Luck Be a Lady” from Guys and Dolls, carries through the episodes final scenes.

It’s clear that Shane’s off her game when she walks away from a randy socialite to take a call from Paige about Shay having a nightmare. The model mom, Shane rushes to his side despite Paige’s protests that he just needed to hear his big sis’s voice. Paige offers her grandmother’s meatloaf to Shane, who hasn’t eaten all day—but Shane looks like she survives on eating a pea about once a week. Who knew, Shane’s a sucker for meatloaf and she opts to hang with Paige.

And Alice is on the verge of a real thing with Tasha, as they stroll to Alice’s apartment together but Tasha warns that she needs to take it slow. There’s a surprise waiting for them when they reach Alice’s doorstep. Phyllis has been waiting to tell Alice she’s broken it off with nice guy hubby Leonard. “I don’t do drama,” Tasha says and turns on her heel in her best military about-face.

Having rethought her life-long aversion to children, Jodi shows up at Bette’s asking to try again. Bette’s heart’s gouged open and she asks Jodi to come on in.

High on her poker prowess, Helena bets it all and loses to Catherine Rothberg. She clumsily explains she didn’t realize the stakes were 50 grand and that her mother’s cut her off for the present.

But Rothberg’s got plans for the destitute poker shark. Rothberg says she dined with Peggy Peabody in Monaco recently and knew about Helena’s predicament before she roped Helena into her game.

“There’s more than one way to repay a debt,” Rothberg says like a socialite Heidi Fleiss.

The L Word Season 4 airs Sundays 10pm ET/PT. For more, visit www.sho.com/site/lword/home.do .

Until next time!