"Glee" recap (5.19): Puppy Love

Rachel and Santana do damage control, while Kurt learns to fly. Also, puppies!

"Glee" recap (5.11): Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Previously on Glee, New Directions prepared for Nationals by saying the word “Nationals” a hundred times a day, while Sue tiptoed around in the background peeking around corners and twirling her handlebar mustache and promising to tie Mr. Schue to some rail road tracks if he didn’t bring home the big trophy. Blaine and Tina and Sam and Artie felt really sad about leaving McKinley, a deep, deep sadness that took root in the choir room and grew a grief tree as big as a Redwood that they watered with their tears and nostalgia all the years of the senior year of their life. And something about something with Marley and Ryder and Jake.

"Glee" recap (5.10): The Return of Aunty Snix

Previously on Glee, the director of the Broadway revival of Funny Girl fainted almost dead away when he found out that McKinley High School produced both Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez, and so he hired the latter to be the former’s understudy, a decision that resulted in a fisticuffs for the ages. Kurt and Starchild drank awesome Jell-O shooters and listened to awesome music and sat around soaking up each other’s awesomeness. And Artie and Tina‘s battle for valedictorian resulted in Blaine Warbler being named valedictorian.

“Glee” recap (5.07): Of Felt and Feelings

An analogy: Glee is like a box of chocolates. A box of chocolates you find sitting unattended at a bus station, and which you open because you have low blood sugar and a totally unfounded faith in humanity. And with each bite you wonder: will this be filled with razor blades, planted by someone who apparently wants to punish chocolate lovers? Will it be stuffed with so much beauty and heart and truth that it makes you cry with its sweetness? Or is it perhaps laced with LSD, which will cause you to hallucinate puppet versions of your friends, pirouetting madly to old school Janet Jackson? This week’s episode of Glee was that last kind of chocolate: sure it was a cold-blooded attempt to move singles on iTunes, held together by only the thinnest of narrative threads, but at least it wasn’t strawberry cream.

This is happening.

And we were all like:

Santana goes to New York.

Now that’s an entrance.