"According to the Catholic Church, mortal sin can only be absolved through the sacred act of confession, but it looks like a certain WASP princess has recently found herself desperately in need of a little unburdening. And who's the man upstairs to discriminate?" Blair sits in a confession booth wearing all-black, including a veil, because this is the funeral for her virtue. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been...a while...since my last confession." I've always wondered whether it was really like this. Church seems so classy, but I don't know. I don't think I have the balls to get full-on Catholic. The priest asks what's troubling her, and lest you think we're in for the full list, which would take at least an hour, she cuts to the brilliant chase: "After being broken up with my boyfriend for exactly 20 minutes, I: succumbed to inebriation, performed at a speakeasy, and surrendered my virtue to a self-absorbed ass. The only good news is that he's a total pig who will act like it never happened, thank God. Um, sorry. Truthfully, I'm not even Catholic." He's like, "You're kidding."

B takes this as a cue to whine more. "But...losing my virginity to Chuck Bass? None of my friends will ever understand." She puts on her resolved face. "I'm ready for my punishment. Whatever you and God think is fair. Flogging, fasting, putting that thing with the teeth around my thigh, like Silas..." Hee! That reminds me of Hex, the second-greatest show ever made besides this one. Also, I didn't see The DaVinci Code, because I'm pretentious. I don't even own a TV. "How about some food for thought instead? Don't drink, keep your clothes on, try avoiding those who might cause you to stray." That's good advice. Also, carry a gun when Chuck Bass is around, and this stuff won't happen. She's like, "Word. And thank you, Father, for the very good advice." Regrettably, she then asks if he grants birthday wishes, and even the priest thinks that's adorable. Clearly the priest understands Blair Waldorf. "I'm a priest, not a genie." Well, that's fine with Blair, but anyway, just in case he runs into God, could He get Nate to come back? God's like, "No. But I do wish Chuck and Nate could get married. Gay people are awesome."

Dan and Serena, still on their Public Affection Tour of the Five Boroughs, make out in some charming little bistro instead of eating or acting like anything other than heathens. The waitresses are grossed out, and I am so, so ready to agree with them, until one of them turns out to be Vanessa Abrams, and now I wish they would get raw-ass naked and do it right there on the table, just to freak her out. Dan spots her and says, half into Serena's lovely mouth, "Mmrnessa!" Serena, awesomely, is like, "No. Dan. I'm Serena." She doesn't even bat an eye, she's just like, "Again with this?" He shivers and motions to Vanessa, who comes over to take their order and calls them "lovebirds." Everything that comes out of her mouth, that's the most annoying thing I've ever heard at that moment. She tells Dan that she actually already did tell him she was working at this charming little bistro, but that he wasn't listening, because she's boring and untrustworthy. If I were reading too much into things this week, I'd wonder if maybe that fact lodged itself somewhere in his unconscious and that he's doing this on purpose, but I can't be bothered. I do know that anybody who is actually in love does not fall into this many problems and weirdnesses and inabilities to actually have sex, though, because they're too busy being in love and having sex to wind up in hijinks so regularly, but maybe that's the show doing that.