DanThat'sCool!

 

 

Cuz it’s my world, bitches.  That’s why. Any questions?

 

 

 

 

When she screeches that Cutie Patootie nonsense, release the nukes.

 

 

 

 

Not even an army of tanked up Pixie Stix Stormtroopers can stop our quest for World Domination.

 

 

 

Does re-tired mean I’m tired again? Cuz I am. Hold all my calls…I’ll be in my Barbie trailer.

 

 

 

Whaddaya mean this isn’t Toddlers & Tiaras? They promised me this was gonna be on Toddlers & Tiaras!

 

 

The time is upon us.

The Ancients predicted it, and now it has finally come to pass.

The prophecy has come full circle, and a Young One has arrived to lead us.

All those past their prime, 13 year old Pageant Princesses with their faded glitz photos and absurdly oversized gem encrusted tiaras tried to warn us, but we didn’t listen.  It could never happen.  Not here.  No way.

But it just did.  With one hyper spin of a makeup chair and a whiny “Hey, Y’all…!” we were invaded.

Eden Wood is back, bitches.

The Gods of Reality TV just dumped a BeDazzled doozie on us this week, with the premiere of Eden’s World on LogoTV.

While the network choice alone is a head scratcher, the premiere episode itself is so chock full of hot mess moments that I’ve already set my DVR to stun.  And Season Pass.

After owning the Toddlers & Tiaras pageant game for a number of years, Eden and her crazy puppeteer Mom Mickie parlayed that initial success into books, frilly outfits and a daytime talk show tour that would make Cher green with envy.  For a time it seemed that everywhere you turned you bumped into an Eden Wood appearance, or a book signing (…choose your favorite Crayola color…) or some form of spontaneous pre-pubescent EdenSpaz whenever she got out of a taxi at the Mall.

But that wasn’t enough for Mom.

No.  Mickie wanted her baby girl to be the next SuperStar!  And at any cost, which in these situations usually translates into a substantial chunk of lost childhood and a math tutor.

(Seriously, these stories would be a lot shorter if you guys could do all the backstory research yourself before all the shows each week.  Not that I mind getting everyone up to speed.  Just saying…)

So that brings us up to date.  And all the way to New York City.

How do I describe it in one sentence?  It’s like if you took every other Reality TV show ever created in the history of the Universe…ever…and shoved them all into one of those Vacu-Seal SpaceSaver bags and let Mickie Wood suck all the air out of it in Times Square.

Compressed into an easy to store 30 minutes…I give you Eden’s World.

The show itself had a few growing pains over the last few months, and little Eden was already kinda sorta demoted to co-star status of her own show before the opening credits ever aired.  Word on the street is that in an effort to ramp up the drama, the producers are letting Eden’s Manager and Publicist go at it like junk yard dogs going after raw scraps…all in the name of good television, of course.

Bleeping out adult potty mouth always makes for great ratings, even when the show is supposed to be about a 7 year old pageant retiree.

The Powers that Be also probably realized early on that there ain’t no way, no how that anyone in their right mind is going to sit through 30 straight minutes of babysitting Eden without getting the going rate.  Plus refrigerator privileges.

So bring on some crazy grown-ups, please.  And they did.

Barely 15 seconds into the show opening and we got to meet Andrew Sullivan, Eden’s publicist.

Or should I say faaaabulous publicist?

Looking like the poor man’s Brad Goreski (…from The Rachel Zoe Project.  Der…) our boy was definitely brought in to keep the Logo in LogoTV.  Every show needs a whacky gay sidekick to succeed, but seriously…when is the faux hawk’s 15 minutes up?

At some point, someone really needs to do a more mathematically accurate research study on the gay boy to sissy dog ratio than just me simply going on my Reality TV assumptions.   But until that time comes, I’ll go on record and say that one dog must come with every membership card in that fraternity.  And some bronzer in a gift basket.

Draped in a whacked out fur number, holding his little puff puppy and hitting up his peeps on his Sidekick, Andrew was textbook cartoon wannabe Fierce.

I immediately joined his online Fan Club, because you know I love me some crazy.  Once he loses his noodle that first time you know I’ll be hooked.

Next up was Heather Ryan, Eden’s Manager.

She’s textbook Woman in a Man’s World.  She’ll cut you if you cross her.  She also talks on her cell like she’s speaking with the President every time the phone rings.

Chill out, honey.  You manage a 7 year old.

To keep the Toddlers & Tiaras contingent happy, the show jumps back and forth between pageants and the Eden Brand, which made for some Star Trek-like Time & Space Continuum issues.  One minute they were in NYC…one minute they were in Wisconsin.  And then back again.

Part of the premise of Eden’s World is that when she is not pimping out her kid, Mickie is also looking to unleash her inner Pageant Yoda on young newbies who need help.

Drawing from Eden’s massive…what was that, six years?…of experience in the industry, they search out lost pageant souls and train them in the ways of the Pageant Jedi.

This week they found 12 year old Adrianna Harris, who was getting picked on by her Wisconsin BFFs for doing the whole pageant thing instead of hanging out at the Food Court on Saturdays.

I’m not gonna lie.  I kind of live for those moments when Mickie gets all verklempt and has to take an over the top soap opera pause to collect her thoughts as she speaks of The Pageant.  I may use her techniques when I give presentations to IBM.

Since Mickie, Eden and Heather were all out in Wisconsin, Andrew was feeling out of the loop.  He also was feeling that Eden should be back in NYC if she was really going to make it into the big leagues.

The only things he wasn’t feeling were the country bumpkins and hard nosed Heather after he jetted off to join them at some kind of Chuck E Cheese meets Jungle Jim’s Jamboreee playground joint.

With Eden wandering in and out of the scene like she was lost at the Mall, Heather and Andrew had their first throw down.

She accused him of whoring off The Brand and hijacking her job.  He accused her of a bad dye job and not doing as much work for Eden as he had been doing.

Andrew actually got Heather so tightly wound that she had to pause and “find the Zone.”

I don’t know what the f*** that meant, but if you haven’t seen the episode yet…right there is a good time to go brush your teeth or get a snack, because nothing happened.  I thought my cable froze.

Back at Adrianna’s house, it was pageant make-over time as all her catty BFFs got an invite to come on over and live in her world for a day.

Eden’s hair and makeup girl Fran Gonzalez was there to help do some doos, and all the girls totally drank the Kool-Aid.  By the time Eden led them all in a “Cutsie Roll” flash mob, they were born again.

After a few seconds in the transporter, the gang was suddenly back in NYC where Heather had scored Eden a meeting with some poor A&M Record execs.

This was big.  BIG.  At least according to Mickie, who OMG’d her way through a list of things that were not even close to being this big.  BIG, I tell you.

After comparing Eden’s potential record deal to the polio vaccine and those QVC candles that look like candles but aren’t really burning, I think Mickie went out back to adjust her panties and light up an unfiltered Marlboro.

BIG.

When they finally composed themselves and made it upstairs to the studio, Eden immediately jumped up on the table to do her presentation, which was a point of concern for the executives.

Not just because it was unexpected, but because they also eat off that table during working lunch meetings.  Put your Pretty Feet shoes back on, sister.  You’re in the City now.

As Andrew tried to slip under the table in humiliation, Mom cranked up the iPhone backbeats and waved it like a lighter at a Neil Diamond show.  Eden busted out her signature go-to “Cutie Patootie” theme song, complete with pouty face and a booty pop, right up in the uncomfortably amazed and slightly horrified faces of the execs.

You can take the girl out of the pageants, but…

When her two numbers were over and Mr. A&M began sterilizing the laminate with a WetNap, he asked Mickie about the realistic possibilities that they could be in NYC enough to make this all happen.

Let’s just say that Mickie was a little eager to move to NYC and leave it at that.  She’ll be there.  Anytime.  Anywhere.  You name it.  Whenever.  Wherever.

It was like he asked a dog if she wanted to go for a ride in the car.

Then they all zapped back to Wisconsin for Pageant Day, where it appeared that hair stylists are in short supply.  Fran had somehow overbooked herself to the point where I think she was doing every head in the ballroom.  The stress was making her a little loopy.

But nothing compared to crazy Pageant Mom Karen who melted down and got all up in Andrew’s face about the delays.

It was basically two women getting all Bravo Reunion Show on each other’s a**.  Andrew needs to work on his bitch face, because he let a Wisconsin homemaker get him all flustered.

Just walk away! Is that how you do?

Dude.  Now you’re embarrassing men and women.

As Adrianna’s age group was being corralled up on stage, she was MIA, which catapulted Mickie into a 4 minute mile across the hotel.  Fran was falling behind on the big hair and more drama erupted.

Fran needs space.  And an assistant, apparently.  A Learning Annex course in time management probably wouldn’t hurt either.

But Adrianna got her weave on just in the nick of time, and made it to the stage to win Grand Uber Whatever.

Mickie got almost as excited as she does when Eden walks a straight line, and actually motioned for Eden to rush the stage like a groupie.

No lie.  She sent her own kid up there to steal the spotlight from their young Jedi Knight.  Guess that is one more lesson Adrianna learned today.

Gah.  I love Pageant Moms.

To celebrate their victory and the inevitable takeover of Planet Earth, the E-Team gathered for a little nosh at some deli.

Really.  The E-Team.

Like the A-Team.  But without the van or the bullets.

At least for now.

 

 

Seriously. That is (bleeped) up. So (bleepin’ bleeped) up, Dude. (Bleep.)

 

 

 

 

 

To think I would go against my Dad is (bleeped) up. I can’t even wire the (bleepin’) DVR.

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t be Tardy for the (bleepin’) Party. Wha-? Wrong show? Seriously? (Bleep.)

 

 

 

 

 

(Bleep) off. Period.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a lot of (bleepin’) work for a spin-off. Seriously.

 

 

 

(Bleep.)

Nothing like somebody turning against their family and getting wired by the Feds to blow the dial right off the Cuss-o-Meter.

This week the Mob Wives were still feeling the after effects from Juniorgate 2012, and it wasn’t pretty.

As a recap for anyone without access to the internet, television, radio, the outside world or a CVS magazine rack, Junior Pagan recently got himself wired up like a home surround sound system and went all Federal Snitch against the Staten Island Mob.

In doing so, Junior managed to record enough static-free background noise to not only incriminate Renee’s own father, Anthony “TG” Graziano, but also blow apart his own family and guarantee that at least three VH1 executives all wet their pants as they giggled and high fived each other at the perfect ratings sweep timing of the arrest.

The fallout from the news had turned Staten Island into a (bleepin’) rumor mill, and whoever “they” are…well, they were all talking about it.

We picked right up where we left off last time, as my Restylane Reality Crush Big Ang flipped through the newspaper at that little boutique her sister either runs or works at or owns.

Big Ang was still stylin’ in her Jackie O Goes To The Jungle look as she pawed through the pages with those shiny black polyurethane Super Heroine gloves.

Do you think maybe she has a secret identity?  How cool would that be?

Perhaps her newly announced spin-off show is going to be an action/adventure kind of thing where she battles crime like Batman?

Maybe you pull one of those stuffed monkey tails behind her Drunken Monkey bar and the back wall actually opens up and she has a gigantic Big Ang Cave down in the basement?

How much would you pay to see her slide down a Big Ang Pole?  You know there is a seriously padded landing platform at the bottom of that ride.

But I digress.

As Big Ang tried to comprehend what the (bleep) just happened with Junior and Renee, we were treated to a little Junior video montage that is destined to be a viral youtube dance hit by the end of the week.

Trust me, if I had a clue how to open GarageBand I would be laying down tracks right now and you guys would have to settle for your own DVR instead of my wit, but I skipped that Genius Bar appointment so you’re in luck.

After the RatSnitch ReMix, we listened in on Karen’s phone conversation with her mom, Debbie.

Karen’s snitch-uation as I like to call it now, is similar to Renee’s…and yet somehow different.

When Karen’s dad, Sammy “The Bull” Gravano, flipped and cooperated with the Feds way back when, he at least had the common Mob courtesy to call a meeting in the Big House and let everyone know what was about to go down.

Let’s be real.

I barely know wedding present etiquette, much less gangstah graciousness, so trust me…I am not the authority on how to properly turn Federal Snitch.  But I guess getting everyone together and dropping that bomb is better than a quick scribble on some 5th grade report paper like Renee found when she finally stopped hitting the snooze alarm that fateful morning.

Speaking of Renee…Drita dropped by to check up on her and let her know that despite all their previous disagreements she is still loyal to her old friend Renee.

This was the first time that the two of them have had a chance to really sit down and diss about Junior, and it was total junior high gossip festivus.

He did what?  When?  Shut up.  No, you shut up.  He did.  When?  Shut up.  Renee, that is messed up.  Shut up.  And then lots of crying.  You shut up.  No, you shut up Infinity.  Am I living a lie?  Was I living a lie?  Shut up.

That’s pretty much how it went down.  I just took out all the cussing and made it more family friendly in case this ends up as a bedtime story for you West Coasters.

Then it time for RatSnitch ReMix Part 2.

Karen was recording the audio version of her new book, and was behind the mic at the studio to lay down some vocals, as they say in the biz.

Thanks to iPods and all that high tech gadgetry, audio books are a big deal nowadays and Karen was releasing the talkie version of Mob Daughter to coincide with the hardcover launch.

The way she explained it was that now when the Wise Guys are running from gunfire they can catch up on Gravano family history without the annoyance of having to hold the actual book.  And on the other end of the spectrum, Rat Snitches can easily stick one wire down their shirt and another one in their ear, thereby  killing two birds with one stone.  It’s well documented that Snitches like to stay current with New York Times bestsellers just like the rest of us do.

Spoiler Alert: Pretending to be listening to audio books is also one of the best ways to score information for the DEA.

Or I might have just made up those last couple paragraphs in my head.  The important thing is that Reading Is FUNdamental.  Stay in school, kids.

This is also probably a good place to mention how much I love me some Mob Wives.  Just to be safe.  Because I do.  I love me some Mob Wives.

As Karen read through various chapters, we were treated to yet another soon-to-be youtube dance classic, this time complete with those funky digital sound board lights.

If some 9 year old geek wad is not already auto tuning Chapter 11, I’m going to lose faith in the youth of today.

Seriously.  I had to move my coffee table and roll up the carpet when they busted out Karen’s mix.

I’m Gravano and I know it.

Then it was time to put the gloves on and hurt somebody.

Drita had her final boxing workout with Personal “We’re going hahhhhd kore” Trainer Anthony, before heading to the gym to spar with an actual human being.  As part of her born again focus on anger management, Drita hoped to unleash all her Mean Girl aggression on some boxing pads instead of Ramona’s face, and wanted to make certain that her inner Incredible Hulk wouldn’t surface during an upcoming match that Anthony had found for her.

Yeah.  Drita was going to do a boxing match.  With rules.

Between the last minute training in her backyard, and then losing control with the poor little Oriental guy who drew the short straw for her practice match, Drita realized that she should probably pull out of the event.

The biggest concerns about participating in the match were her kids, and the sudden realization that she might actually get hit in the face.

That, and the fact that Drita also fights like those high school girls with the blurred out faces you always see kicking a tiny kid for lunch money on the FOX5 News.

So it was best to just walk away with some dignity and all her teeth.  The Jack-o-Lantern look is cute on Dance Moms and Toddlers & Tiaras, but not so much when you’re modeling hoochie bikinis wearing a flipper.

I love me some Drita, too.  But she can have my lunch money.  All of it.  I’ll even mail it to her house.  I’m not messing with that one.  Ever.  Just tell me where to send it.  And don’t hurt me.  I bruise easily, being so delicate and all.  And I would totally cry.

Later, Big Ang got her Cher on and dropped by Renee’s house.  Carla better watch out, because Big Ang could steal the Cher look-a-like crown right off her head.

Granted, Big Ang’s Cher was a little less Bob Mackie and a little more Pride Parade, but still.  With her big Flintstone furry vest, dangly earrings and massive Cher hair, Big Ang could have passed for Sonny’s ex.  Or maybe Sonny when he used to dress up as Cher.

Remember that show?  When Chaz was Chazette?  I Got You Babe.  Good times.

But, again, I digress.

Soon as Big Ang left, Karen dropped by to help Renee pack up all of Junior’s stuff, in a cleansing/moving on with my life kind of ceremony.

It was also a pretty nice advertisement for the UPS Store.  When your Man goes Federal Informant, Brown has all the supplies you need to get his s*** outta the house.

And he had a lot of s***, considering that he just moved back in three months ago.

I’ll give Renee props.  She neatly folded everything and sealed it up like Junior was going off to Afghanistan.

If someone had boned me the way he boned her, that s*** would be flying out the bedroom window like it was Mardi Gras beads.  You go, girl.  Proud of you.

Now set it on fire in the backyard.

After two seasons, you know by now that nothing gets Staten Island people more excited than unsubstantiated gossip.  And Junior’s saga was Gold.

As Drita, Carla and Big Ang treated themselves to a little Day Spa action, Renee and Junior were again the topic.  Carla is losing her patience with Renee and all her drama, and there were conflicting reports from “the streets” as to whether Renee may have been in on the whole Junior being wired to spy thing.

I don’t know where these “streets” are that everyone in Staten Island always goes to for gossip, but I need to find them, asap.  I just imagine a Land where everyone eats calzones and talks snarky smack talk until their heads explode.

I want to live there.

Carla felt that if the stilettos were on the other foot, Renee would have a completely different attitude about a whole bunch of things.

Over the years, Renee has sworn that nothing is lower than a Rat.  But now that the infestation is in her own basement…hmmmphhh.

Carla thought Renee was a bipolar puppet.  Drita thought that red nail polish looked the best on her own nails.  Big Ang thought she was a little overdressed for such a warm salon.  That’s about all we got out of that.

We finished off the episode with Renee and son AJ awkwardly discussing their situation, and a warm and fuzzy HomeGoods Christmas.

For real.

You know when you go to HomeGoods…or TJ Maxx…or Marshall’s…or whatever it’s called in your ‘hood…during the holidays, and all the country snowmen are piled on the tables right by the front door?  All the snowmen that look like scarecrows in plaid vests?  They’re always next to those wreaths that never fully fluff up when you take them out of the box?  Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.  You’re not that fancy.

Welcome to Carla’s house.

Newly released Joe dropped by to help finish up with the holiday traditions, which basically consisted of putting one last giant life-size snowman together and skeezing an invite to spend Christmas Eve on the couch.  Like I’ve said before, he does love those kids and they get all googly when he comes around, so when his son asked if Daddy could stay over…well, you know.

Joe’s dimples can pretty much score him anything that he sets his mind to, almost as if they have super powers.

Hmmm.  Do you think he is Big Ang’s sidekick in her new show?

After futzing with the snowman and attaching the head (…which was big enough to wear if you wanted to hold up a bank…just saying…) it was a HomeGoods holiday moment.

God bless us, everyone.

Except for Rat Snitches.

They (bleepin’) suck (bleeps.)