DanThat'sCool!

 

 

I am way too over accessorized to take your crap anymore, lady. I’m outta here.

 

 

 

 

 

Girrrrrl.  Yo’ Momma is one loose cannon.

 

 

 

 

 

Something’s not right here. Did I forget underwear again?

 

 

 

 

 

I’m taking this kid and you can’t stop me. I hope I got the right one. This one’s mine, right?

 

 

 

 

The only thing tastier than Candy Apples…Fresh Meat on a stick. Come to Momma, baby.

 

 

 

Abby Lee Miller said it.  There are no rules in the Dance World.

True, there are rules on the performance stage regarding technique, pointing your toes and not running with scissors.  I also vaguely remember from Dancing with the Stars that your foot shouldn’t come off the floor in a dance with no lifts unless you want Carrie Ann Inaba to blow a nutty.  But that’s all show stuff.

Abby was talking about the cruel reality known as the Dance (Moms) World.

No rules out there.  Nada.  Probably should be, if for no other reason than to preserve the species.  But nothing yet.

Personally I’m too busy watching TV, but if anyone has some time on their hands and feels the need to compile a list of potential guidelines, Kill or Be Killed would be a good starting point.

Seriously.

Oh, Dance Moms.

In all honesty, sometimes I forget what show I’m watching.  I know it’s America’s Guilty Pleasure, and I know I shouldn’t bring it up when the guys are over for the Big Game.

But sometimes I just forget.

Between some rather unfortunate jungle print wardrobe decisions, loads of faux fur and a pack of Moms that constantly chew on each other’s throats, there have been more than a few times when I actually thought I may have unknowingly laid back on my remote and flipped over to the National Geographic Channel.

If it wasn’t for all the glitter and that sissy dog being pushed around in a pink baby stroller, I would swear I was watching one of those NatGeo specials where the Momma lions shred everything around them to protect their young.

Luckily that dog in the baby stroller always brings me back to reality.

This week was the Fire & Ice Competition just down the road in beautiful, land locked Pittsburgh, so Abby and her crew could finally save some travel money, do some laundry and stay local for a few meals.

But local or not, everything always begins with the How Many Weeks Is Kendall Going To Be On The Bottom Before Her Mom Loses It Pyramid of Shame.

Answer: This week should do it.

Sure enough.  Numero Uno on the bottom is Kendall.

Again.

And back on probation.

Again.

Not even four minutes into the episode and Jill went off like a Macy’s fireworks rocket.

That big sparkly one that shoots up really loudly at the end of the show.  That one.

It was a classic Real Housewives of Pittsburgh moment as Jill busted out every dramatic pose in her repertoire and basically melted down in front of everyone.

Again.

She also used the opportunity to practice her celebrity imitation skills by dramatically screeching “What…More…Do…You…Want…From…Her?” in the best William Shatner staccato that I have heard since that TV Land Star Trek Marathon.

While Jill’s hysteria toggled back and forth between Captain Kirk and Teresa Giudice, Abby pointed out every flaw in Kendall’s performances until the poor little thing started to cry.

Jill was Over…It.  She and Kendall are going to find a studio…That…Appreciates…Them.

Hopefully little Kendall can still dance with her dislocated arm after Jill grabbed her and dragged her out the door and down the hall like she was a knock off Louis Vuitton bag.

Warp Speed.  Engage.

When the dust settled, the remaining girls all looked around at each other not sure whether they should leave or stick around for the rest of the Pyramid Game.  Abby didn’t even skip a beat as she revealed Paige, Mackenzie and Brooke finishing off the bottom row.

As Moms Kelly and Melissa rolled their eyes, Abby explained that Paige pretty much forgot where she was during the last Trio Dance which resulted in her bottom row status, Mackenzie just needs adult teeth and more practice, and Brooke’s onset of puberty…well…that just pisses Abby off.  Teen angst is one thing.  Not knowing how to smile is another.  Turn that frown upside down or you’ll never dance or date again, sister.

Middle ground was Maddie with her enormous smile, and Chloe with her not so enormous eyes.  I love those two kids.

Top row?  Wait for it….wait for it…

NIA!! Laqueefa Wha–?!?!?

Finally.  And the crowd goes wild.

Christi better watch her back, because Holly may soon be taking over the title of Best Proud Mom Face Ever very soon.  When you least expect it, you might get a rolled up PhD doctorate in the back of the head and suddenly there’ll be a new Queen in town.

This week’s group numbah is a Wedding Dance complete with bouquets and questionably age (in)appropriate garters.  Abby wanted all the Dance Dads (Spike TV…are you listening?  Spin off anyone?) to show up at the competition to give their daughters away to the Dance, so to speak.  Sounded a little sacrificial, but whatever sells tickets.

As the girls started working on their bridal boogie, the remaining Moms scooted upstairs to dish about Jill.  While Holly struck a seriously reflective Oprah pose and took it all in, Melissa got a text from Jill in her getaway car swearing that she is gone for good, suckahs.

Speeding down the highway, Jill put in a call to the Evil Dance Lair, better known as Candy Apple’s Dance Center, home of the villainess Chaos Cathy and her League of Mall Moms Gone Bad.  Cathy will stop at nothing to bring the Art of the Dance to greater Ohio, and if she can stick it to Abby Lee Miller at the same time…even better.

Somehow Cathy has the ability to smell blood in the water even over a cell phone, and she pretty much drooled out a little candy apple juice at the thought of stealing one of Abby’s Moms.  Especially since she was headed to Pittsburgh this week to do the whole bring the Art of the Dance/Stick it to Abby thing on Abby’s home turf anyways.  Bonus.

While Cathy was wiping caramelized spittle off her chin, all the Moms headed down to the neighborhood Bridal Boutique.  The trip was in the name of research for the wedding costumes, but quickly turned into an episode of Pre-Menopausal Say Yes To The Dress.

Melissa, best known for doing whatever…whatever…it takes to pay the dance bills, is now secretly engaged to her new beau.  Except everyone knows already, so I’m not really sure why she thinks it is a secret.  But she does.  So she was playing coy around the dresses.

Kelly, on the other hand, was more than happy to jump into a Vera Wang number and do some impromptu modeling.

And like any good model, she wasn’t wearing any underwear.  Thanks for sharing, Kelly.

All I could think of were all the girls who make that mad dash during those Running of the Brides Wedding Dress Sales, and frantically pull the gowns over their heads in a race to find The Dress.

Yeah.  You just think about that one for a minute.  And then think about it some more, and then cover that stuff up.  That’s just nasty.

As Kelly was proving that you don’t need panties to be a blushing bride, Jill was finally arriving at Candy Apple’s in a scene that was part child hostage situation/part Kids from Fame.  Cathy could still smell Abby’s scent on Kendall as she greeted them in her creepy, lick your face kind of way.  She didn’t.  But I thought she was going to for sure.

It was those hyenas from Lion King again.  Just circling and smelling you.

Let’s be real.  Even if Kendall had shown up on crutches, doped out on children’s cough medicine and wearing an eye patch Cathy would have put her on the team.  It’s Cathy.  And she wants to stick it to Abby.  Even if that means using kids as pawns.

And it does.

But let’s talk about those Candy Apple’s Dance Moms.  I know, right?

Love.  Them.

It’s like someone drove around picking up Moms at random Walmarts and then suddenly changed their mind and went to that store that only sells hair dye and biker chick stuff.

That red haired Mom is still bad a**.  She will cut you in a heartbeat, in her off the shoulder Flashdance shirt, and not even blink those jet black lined eyeballs.

Plus they have snacks.  Sparkling apple cider and a veggie platter.  Even in a blizzard.

Cathy gave Kendall a solo in the Pittsburgh show, which would put her up against Nia in their age category.  Let the drama unfold.

Jill filled her purse with carrot sticks and cheese slices and hit the road, gloating in her victory against Abby.  Kendall finally has the solo and attention that Jill has been trying to get for her, and they also got free cider.  Life is good.

On Competition Day Chaos Cathy and her Mom Squad strutted down the hallway like WWE wrestlers going into the Ring.  When they came face to face with Abby and her Posse, they were ready to rumble.

Between that fake leopard Wilma Flintstone jacket that one of Cathy’s Moms was working (…she may be my new second favorite, after the bad a** one…) and Abby’s little dog in his pink stroller, I thought my head was going to explode.

Everyone got all “What the? Who the? Oh Hell No” all over each other.  Trust me.  It’s a DVR keeper.

Did I mention Abby’s dog only travels in a baby stroller?  A pink one?

This whole event was just asking for trouble.  And trouble showed up.

Nia’s solo was great.  Holly totally swiped the crown off Christi’s head during that one.  She was beaming.

Kendall pushed all of Abby’s buttons by doing Abby’s choreography, while wearing Abby’s costume and breathing Abby’s air.  That didn’t go over too well.

The Wedding Dance was all good.  No guns this week.

The Candy Apple’s troupe did a dark, moody Funeral Dance, complete with casket.  Cathy probably dug it up with her bare hands.

As they did during the last competition, to skew the age category down a few notches, Cathy had daughter Vivi-Anne and her little red haired buddy run around the stage while the older dancers did the actual dancing part of the number.  Last competition Cathy let them toss Vivi-Anne around like a Whole Foods potato sack.  This time at least she let her get some exercise and run around on her own.

I say it every time, but I swear that kid goes to bed wearing glitter eye shadow.  Her Princess Ariel pillow must be a hot mess when the alarm goes off.

There was more crying when Nia lost out to Kendall in the solo category.  But the Wedding Dance beat out the Funeral Dance, which rubbed Cathy the wrong way again.

Finally, in the Be Careful What You Wish For category, Cathy presented Jill with her honorary Candy Apple’s BeDazzled denim jacket.  The thing had more bling than a hip hop hoochie on a Friday night, and was made out of that pale blue denim they only use for elastic waist Mom jeans.

Yeah.  It was as pretty as it sounds.

That should look nice with your fur vest and Snookie poof down at the Galleria.

Jill’s fake smile said it all.

It’s on, bitches.

As you can see, my oath to never discuss The Bachelor is working out really well so far.

When there is so much hot mess to sift through, it’s getting tough to look the other way.

Poor Emily O’Brien recently got the boot.  After going head to botoxed head with Courtney “Winning” Robertson for Ben’s affections, it was clear that not even Emily’s Gangsta Side could save her from elimination.

As a bon voyage tribute, please join me as we relive what is hopefully the only Epidemiological White Girl Rap in existence.

Disturbing as it is to view Emily’s attempts at spitting a verse, keep an eye on Ben and his standing ovation.

Seriously.  What was that?

That’s how Paula Abdul clapped on American Idol.  True dat.

Dude.  Man up.

TTFN, Emily….Hollah back, girl.

 

 

 

Check it out. The ricochet alone will take out at least two Moms and a window.

 

 

 

 

Oh no, she did not. Did she just aim that thing at my poof?

 

 

 

 

 

I saw on Facebook that junior high boys love the bad girls.

 

 

 

 

 

Just shoot me. When did all my tuition money end up going to the NRA?

 

 

 

 

MmmHmm. I could spend all day watching white people try to be gangstah.

 

 

And what did we learn on Dance Moms this week, kids?

Aside from questionable methods of beating choreography into a young girl’s brain, I mean.

Glad you asked.

We learned that you should always aim high when setting your goals…and aim your shotgun even higher.

If you can’t shoot to kill, at least shoot to win.

After seemingly endless months of jet setting around the country with everything but crayons and homework in tow, Abby Lee Miller and her pee wee dancers were finally staying local.  The Hollywood Vibe Dance Competition was landing in their own Pittsburgh backyard, so no one had to check Priceline for bus tickets this week.  Having the Competition on their home turf, though easier on the travel budget, definately ramped up the expectations and drama…as well as the volume.

Jill’s hair was also pretty ramped up now that you mention it, but it’s almost to be expected after all this time.  I’m really staring to think that the angrier she gets, the more she must go home and take it out on her teasing comb, because there were a couple of poofs that would have blocked your view from the back seat on her Carpool Day.

But that’s pretty irrelevant to plot development, so we’ll just tease it, spray it and move on if that’s ok.

As you know by now, All Things Dance must always begin with the Pyramid of Shame, better known as the Even When Maddie Is At The Bottom It Doesn’t Really Mean That She Is Pyramid.

Each week Abby seems to blow through the process quicker than she used to, so I’m thinking the novelty is wearing off.

Smiley Jack-O-Lantern Mackenzie was way down on the bottom, after leading last week at the top.  First to Worst, as Abby gently pointed out, much to Mom Melissa’s irritation.

Poor little Mack.  I’m pretty sure the humiliation and stress caused another tooth to fall out at that very moment, and she only has about 7 left in her mouth so that made me sad.  Once she gets out of that puppy stage and her body catches up with her big head, she is going to be a hoot.  We love her.

Sassy Nia was once again on the bottom, which is starting to tick me off.  Mom Holly got her Whatchoo Talkin’ Bout Willis face on, but continued to stand her ground against Abby’s obsessive mission to sneak a Satchmo song into every one of Nia’s performances.  LaQuifa Whaaaat?!

Kendall was still stuck right next to Nia on the bottom row, thanks to last week’s Jillapalooza.  Between trying to sneak an expensive costume into the competition as “homemade,” non stop screaming, wearing a ridiculously inexpensive State Fair cowboy hat and hysterically flinging a shoe across the room, Jill pretty much sealed Kendall’s fate this week.

Honey.  Your Mom is a Whackadoodle.  Run.  Fast.  And Far.

And in a shocker that could rival a Dynasty season finale, Maddie found herself on the bottom tier as well, due to the fact that she fell during last week’s gymnasium performance.  Abby wanted to use the Pyramid as a Teaching Moment and as a challenge to Maddie to get better.

I don’t really know any dancer who makes a concerted effort to face plant at every recital, so I’m pretty sure Maddie is going to try and do better regardless of where her headshot ends up on the mirror.  But there’s no arguing with Abby.

Chloe and Brooke were one row higher.  Cutie Patootie Chloe’s eyes are still really close together and Brooke still mopes a lot, so no big doin’s on the second tier.

The news flash was at the top of the Pyramid, where Paige finally landed.  First time evah! Paige and the girls had a major spaz attack which made me smile.

This week’s group number was a Private Eyes super sleuth detective kind of dance.

Basically a James Bond  Goldfinger kind of thing, but since they are all little girls there was going to be more Gold and less Finger.  To keep the number edgy and current, Abby was also adding some guns into the routine, since we all know that firearms in school is trending on Twitter.

That got the reaction that “I am going to have your 10 year old pistol whip the competition” always seems to get from a Mom.  You could catch some serious flies with all the wide open Mom mouths when Abby let that cat out of the bag.

Maddie, Chloe and Paige were the line up for the Trio number, which meant that Kendall got knocked off the number and Jill got yet another opportunity to toss some attitude in yet another furry Rachel Zoe vest. I would love to see her closet.  It must look like she’s backstage at The Muppet Show.

Once rehearsals started and the Moms made it up to the Mom Booth, it didn’t take long for the snarky to come out.

Everyone got up in the Jill Grill again as they dissed her never ending attempts at buying Abby’s affection and loyalty with bus trips gifts, and explained again how no newbie gets to come into the Mom Clique and pee all over the seats without putting in some hard time first.

Apparently you don’t want to throw down the Gift Challenge to a Real Housewife of Pittsburgh, because the next day Jill walked in with park bench for the front lobby doorway, complete with a plant and a plaque from Things Remembered at the Mall.

I’m not going to lie.  I’m kind of obsessed with that odd Boy Toy that followed Jill around everywhere as they set up the bench like it was going in the Smithsonian.  Who was that Miss Thing with the faux hawk?  He looked like he was going to Idol auditions and got snagged by Jill in the parking lot to help unload the bench from the Hummer.  He was totally unexpected, but quite enjoyable.

The bench set off another round of Jill Bashing and “Diva…Table for One” snarkisms, which were almost as entertaining as the dude with the faux hawk.  Again, I have to say that the madder Jill gets, the bigger her hair gets.  There has to be some kind of scientific explanation.

The group number rehearsals went better than the Trio number, that’s for sure.

Paige couldn’t quite get it together, and Abby basically ripped her a new one, which sent Kelly down into the rehearsal studio to pull her daughter away before Abby bit her in the throat.  As Paige cried and tried to regroup, Abby rambled on about irresponsible dancers, irresponsible mothers and irresponsible Stupid Is As Stupid Does people.  Abby also got a White Trash zinger in there as Kelly and Paige left for the night.  Everyone was pooped from screaming at each other, so they called it a night and headed home.

Side note…Abby is either using her front desk as a hamster cage or somebody has no idea how to file paperwork.  The whole thing was so covered in receipts, post its, message pads and scrap paper that it had to have been in violation of at least three Pennsylvania fire codes.  Check it out next time.

The next day after some sleep, everyone was back for more rehearsing and more Jill Drama.  They should have known when she came back in and her hair was bigger that you don’t want to mess with the woman today.  But they did anyway.  Like poking a sleeping lion, I tell you.

Jill didn’t understand how being a total Diva Bitch, screaming, threatening to leave, leaving, screaming, coming back, screaming some more and throwing a shoe could have any effect on people’s opinions or her daughter’s success at the Abby Lee Miller Dance Studio.  As Jill flailed her hands around and got all Diva Bitch upstairs, Kendall mindlessly hit pause and rewind over and over on the Macbook , playing Mix Master for the Trio.

By the time Kendall had hit the one hour mark sitting on the floor taking up space, Jill decided that enough was enough and stormed downstairs from the Mom Perch.

Not for nothing, but wouldn’t life be much easier on everyone if they just installed a BatPole and let the Moms slide down every time they felt like interfering? Seriously.

Jill wanted her daughter to be productive, swore a little and used the “H” word.

That’s right.  Homework.

Like Abby cares about the Algebra Test tomorrow.

Hit the road, Missy.

And she did.  Again.  Jill likes her dramatic exits.

But don’t you worry…she and Kendall came back the next day for the Hollywood Vibe extravaganza, led by Abby in some crazy big Jackie O sunglasses and a winter coat borrowed from Jill’s own private Muppet Collection.

There was a slight break in the screaming for some actual dancing, which was slightly all over the place.

Maddie and Chloe’s solos were good.  Christi still has the best Proud Mom Face I’ve ever seen.  You just want to bottle it and spritz in around the house on a bad day.  It would smell like warm cupcakes.

The Trio was a little off.  Spacing was off.  Timing was off.  They scored second place, but Abby was quick to point out that only means they were the first losers.  She also pointed out that Paige blew it, and that all the Moms enable their kids to be bad dancers.

Holly busted out another round of Whatchoo Talkin’ Bout Willis and tried to explain to Abby the foreign concept of not belittling children at every opening in the conversation, which went in one ear and out the other so fast it made a breeze in the room.

The Goldfinger Spy Dance rocked the house.

The girls were all getting their Charlie’s Angels on, posing and tossing ‘tood around the stage like they carried sawed offs in their book bags everyday.  Miss Nia was totally getting her freak on.  She is major.

I keep telling you…when those braces come off and she stops going to bed with wet hair, she is gonna be Sasha Fierce.

They won first place.

And then Jill and Abby screamed some more.

Christi and Kelly screamed a little, so they didn’t miss out on all the fun.  Melissa was pretty low key this week, all things considered.  Between little Mack dropping down on the Pyramid this week and Maddie dropping down onto the basketball court hardwood last week, I think she just needs some time to get her mojo back.

Jill and Abby screamed some more.

Then Jill ripped on Abby’s choreography.

Yeah.  She went there.

Yikes.

Bitch is lucky those guns were shooting blanks.

Aim high and reach for the stars, kids.

…..

**Updated Shout Out to those who spanked me for an earlier typo on this post.  Apparently I don’t do my best work at 2am.  

Today I learned that in life it doesn’t matter which Jonas Brother is which, or which Olsen Sister drinks decaf.  But do NOT typo a Dance Mom’s name.  

You just don’t do that.