None of this cutesy whimsical gossip today, no. Today we're bookended by total NIN crackly pics like back in the early '90s when it was simultaneously the '80s and Lily and Rufus were living their very complicated time-traveling lives and appealing to multiple generations with their lunchbox purses and whatever, it's quaint. So quaint are the sexy ladies bumping and grinding on the screen, in fact, that I'm reminded less of Reznor and more of Manson. Marilyn Manson, to be exact, whose stupid ex-girlfriend decided a few years ago that it simply had been too long since burlesque shows last annoyed us. Now, you know I love this show and God knows I desperately want Gossip Girl's approval, but burlesque is one of those things about which we're going to have to agree to disagree.
"Have you heard, Upper East Siders? Burlesque is all the rage again!" Really? Does that mean we're going to be dealing with fucking swing dancing again next week? I cannot deal with that reality. "And sometimes a little raging is exactly what you need," GG continues, and I can't disagree, but I fail to see the connection, unless the "rage" you're talking about is the rage you feel when you realize you've been sold a bunch of crap as far as what is and is not sexy, and found yourself acting like an idiot in public. You know what broke burlesque? The Pussycat Dolls. And not when your girlfriend was a freak like them, but way before, when it was all the Hollywood abuse survivors like Xtina and Carmen Electra being like, "I am no longer defined by my sexuality! Look at my breasts! My sexuality is a beautiful flower! Its petals unfold in your face!" It went from being just kind of sad to being super-creepy, and it never came back. You don't stop being objectified just because you've decided to do the objectifying yourself, and the difference between burlesque and balls-out raw-ass stripping is the same imaginary difference that says Blair can go down on Nate from now until graduation and still stay a virgin: it's missing the point entirely.
Cue Chuck gaping creepily and GG talking about how he's always "ahead of the curves." Which is, you see, a double entendre, because he wants to have sex with you, with or without your consent, but also because GG has apparently just discovered the concept of burlesque, which in reality has existed as long as ugly girls have desperately needed attention. Some drag queen is all, "¿Quién es esa niña?" And Chuck can't take his eyes off one girl in particular, whose bewitching twitching has captured his heart and his pants: "I have no idea."