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These weekly posts are intended as an episode-by-episode guide to the many psychological ailments, drunken gibberish, senseless actions, Bourbon Street mixed drinks and other embarrassments on MTV’s The Real World: New Orleans.

It contains spoilers — and who cares? You stopped watching this show several years ago — but also a lot of information that might help viewers of the series come to terms with their outrage over the cast’s cultural vandalism of New Orleans (and what was once a really lovely Uptown house), and also the bleak, black future of our society.

The emotional trauma caused by the show admittedly makes such coverage an overwhelming task, so posts may be supplemented by information culled from Wikipedia, WebMD and un-scientific polls of nearby Gambit staffers. Readers are also encouraged to submit any comments that may help us make sense of this wreckage.

On the shocking finale of the The Real World: New Orleans, Knight decided to finally confront Ryan at the Airline Highway hotel where he staying. It was crazy! Ryan had pretty much beat Knight to a bloody pulp until, suddenly, Jemmye burst in and shot Ryan in the back of his head. Then the rest of the housemates walked in the bloodstained room and they all just stood there and looked at each other — a tacit agreement that they would tell no one else about what happened.

Nah, just kidding. That didn’t happen. But there was lots of tears and broken home furnishings in the finale of the show that has invariably repulsed and amused us for the past three months (and by "us" I mostly mean me). Let us sift through the piles of Mardi Gras beads, de-pin the Voodoo dolls, dispose of the Subway sandwich wrappers, wash our feet of that mysterious Bourbon Street fifth and say goodbye to the roommates that care forgot.

“Done.” No longer are people simply “single” or “in a relationship.” Ever since Facebook injected “it’s complicated” into modern vernacular, one’s relationship status can now take on many fluid forms that all come with their own vague terminology. If reality television is a reflection of what’s going on in the real world — God help us — then “done” has emerged as a new relationship signifier. Sahar proclaims she’s “done” with Pablo/Eli after his Grey Goose bender in New Orleans (she eventually reconsiders, but more on that later!). According to Jersey Shore, being “done” is a natural progression from “doing you” after that doesn’t work out, and when you inevitably are over being “done,” you eventually get to a “good place” and — if that works out — you are now officially someone’s “girl” or "man."

The Tchoupitoulas Challenge. Creole Creamery’s mega-sundae includes eight scoops of ice cream and eight toppings with whipped cream, cherries and wafers. And if you eat the whole thing in one sitting without any help, the ice cream shop rewards you for your time and assault on your digestive system with … a small placard with your name on it. So Knight and Eric attempted the Challenge (perhaps as an audition for The Challenge?) and threw up all over Prytania Street. Dairy, man. It’s a killer.

(Also, can we talk about how when Jemmye walks in to Creole Creamery, all the roommates who are already there start clapping for her? I wonder if they clap any time Jemmye manages to find her way anywhere. Yay, Jemmye!)

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• Knight experiences firsthand the salsa crimes threatening New Orleans' homeless.

These weekly posts are intended as an episode-by-episode guide to the many psychological ailments, drunken gibberish, senseless actions, Bourbon Street mixed drinks and other embarrassments on MTV’s The Real World: New Orleans.

It contains spoilers — and who cares? You stopped watching this show several years ago — but also a lot of information that might help viewers of the series come to terms with their outrage over the cast’s cultural vandalism of New Orleans (and what was once a really lovely Uptown house), and also the bleak, black future of our society.

The emotional trauma caused by the show admittedly makes such coverage an overwhelming task, so posts may be supplemented by information culled from Wikipedia, WebMD and un-scientific polls of nearby Gambit staffers. Readers are also encouraged to submit any comments that may help us make sense of this wreckage.

(And by the way, next week's is the last episode! Are you planning your finale party yet? It's easy: just throw Mardi Gras beads all over your living room and serve "Real World Cocktails" made with vodka and red food coloring.)

Real World nuptials. At the beginning of the episode, everyone gets drunk and tries to convince Jemmye and Knight to get married, with Ashlee officiating (all she would need is an online certificate and her fancy dress-sweatshirt, which she reserves for special occasions). The wedding never happens, and Jemmye punches Knight in the face. But anyway, did you know Real World cast members have actually “tied the knot” on the show? It’s true! According to Dr. Samuel J. Wikipedia, noted reality television historian, Los Angeles season cast member Irene Barrera-Kearns got married on the show and Pedro Zamora (R.I.P.!) exchanged wedding vows with his boyfriend during the San Francisco season.

Homelessness. Because New Orleans Mission boss lady/unofficial Real World house mother Loretta has a terrific sense of humor (or genuinely wants to teach these brats a lesson, I don’t know), she asked the cast to spend a night as homeless people would at the Mission. Preston, chronic avoider of volunteer work and all things altruistic, declined. But everyone else was excited! McKenzie said it was like going to a sleepover. The cast members fully immersed themselves in homeless life by begging for food (sneaking out to buy it from a gay bar), running from the fuzz (Loretta) and engaging in turf warfare (flour and salsa fights). All in all, it pretty much was like a sleepover, minus McKenzie’s friend’s weird dad who would stand all night staring through the cracked bedroom door, hoping to sneak a peak at her in her nightgown.

• O Brother (and Cousin), Where Art Thou?

These weekly posts are intended as an episode-by-episode guide to the many psychological ailments, drunken gibberish, senseless actions, Bourbon Street mixed drinks and other embarrassments on MTV’s The Real World: New Orleans.

It contains spoilers — and who cares? You stopped watching this show several years ago — but also a lot of information that might help viewers of the series come to terms with their outrage over the cast’s cultural vandalism of New Orleans (and what was once a really lovely Uptown house), and also the bleak, black future of our society.

The emotional trauma caused by the show admittedly makes such coverage an overwhelming task, so posts may be supplemented by information culled from Wikipedia, WebMD and un-scientific polls of nearby Gambit staffers. Readers are also encouraged to submit any comments that may help us make sense of this wreckage.

When you’re living in a house occupied by feral creatures with names like “Jemmye” and, somehow, you manage to distinguish yourself as the most insane, uncivilized and flatulent one of them all, the only thing left to do is leave. So like Puck and some other people from other seasons, Ryan joins the list of Real World cast members who were called back to God before their time. Let us remember Ryan, the hairdresser with a heart of gold (and also many mental disorders).

Brother and Cousin. Just when you thought the life of Ryan couldn’t be more of a cartoon, we meet his brother and cousin — who are apparently named Brother and Cousin (this is probably because they didn’t want their names on TV, but I desperately want to believe that “Brother” and “Cousin” are their Christian names so just let me tell myself that, OK? Please let me believe that). Eric, who I guess talks now, described the three as “the Three Stooges meets All-American Rejects,” and that’s kind of perfect. Other fitting descriptions: a group of cavemen that just discovered Fall Out Boy, PacSun employees who send VHS tapes of themselves jumping off buildings to Jackass even though it doesn’t air anymore, or, just Ryan and two brown-haired versions of Ryan. When they’re around each other, they communicate only in grunts and farts.