DanThat'sCool!

 

 

I would have called you sooner, but you know I don’t get cell service inside that damn karaoke bar.

 

 

 

 

That’s it. I’m outta here. Nobody talks to me like that while there’s a full table of snacks out back. Mama needs a nosh.

 

 

 

 

If I wasn’t wearing my Spanks right now I’d be all up in that chick’s grill.

 

 

 

 

 

I have no idea where the exits are located. I’m literally trapped in here with these crazy hens. Realz.

 

 

 

 

And then I went like this, and used my psychic maternal healing power to cure Mackenzie’s f***d up toe.

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch. Please.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then they bring in this hot new Mom with giant earrings and boobs out to here. So not fair.

 

 

And here we go again, folks.

Grab a cocktail, or two or ten, and settle in for another Dance Moms Reunion.

The Real Housewives of Pittsburgh were back this week to rehash the latest round of studio stress and dancing dramz, in what was either a season ending get together, a mid-season filler, or simply an excuse to put on fancy dress up clothes and get out of doing housework again.

Your guess is as good as mine.

As you can tell, I’m not really clear on how they work this whole scheduling thing out since the show is already advertising next month’s June Premiere.  (Set your DVRs and plug in the blender.)  So it’s not like they’re getting a full Summer hiatus like CSI and then coming back, months from now, with a two page spread in that special edition of TV Guide.

Like I’ve said before, it’s probably more like a month off from filming just to wash out some leotards and detox all the alcohol out of their system before the next round of competition.  You need to be on your game when it’s time for Nationals.

Regardless, they were back.  And back in that odd little basement studio with the bad lighting and Mardi Gras beads.

I know, right?  I don’t get it, either.

With all the money that Dance Moms and Jane Seymour movies bring in for Lifetime, I still can’t figure out what they’re all doing down there.  It’s almost like some youtube wannabe had booked that studio for the day, but finished early and offered up the same set to the Dance Moms people since it was already paid for through midnight.

And remember last time, at the Fall Reunion (…as opposed to whatever this one is called…) when they classed it up and all sat in those Andy Cohen knock-off couches like the New Jersey ladies?  Granted, instead of Bellagio chandeliers they had a lot of HomeGoods knick knacks cluttering up the joint.  But it was still a couch.

I dunno.  Maybe the Spring version goes in the basement, and the real end of the season one gets a couch.  If I don’t even understand the difference between technical and artistic scores, I can’t be expected to figure out the intricacies of studio rental fees.

Anyway.

As always, my boy Jeff Collins was back to host and squirm and change subjects on a dime.  He cracks me up.  But in a good way.  We’re tight, you know.

Just by the look on his face, it’s pretty clear that way back on that historic day when he first dreamed up the whole Dance Moms concept (…while listening to some Broadway musical soundtrack on one of those radios that you can take in the shower, no doubt…) Jeff never thought that years later, he’d actually have to be the one sitting in a dark, windowless room with all these crazies.

Watch him, and then tell me he doesn’t look like the commander of some submarine who can’t open the escape hatch in an emergency.

Love me those Dance Moms.

For you technical types who are into this kind of thing, I should also note that this year the production people have been busting out that two camera confessional shot a lot.

You know the one.  The one where sometimes the person is looking right into the camera and yakking, and then sometimes they are shot slightly from the side looking off into space.

Which I guess works for MasterCard commercials and The Real World when trashy chicks get totally wasted, but on Dance Moms it tends to look like they don’t know which camera has the flashing red light.

Just saying.

Abby Lee Miller was first on the scene, of course, and played a little word association with Mr. Collins to loosen everybody up before the good stuff.

After dissing Melissa a bit, they called her out from the Green Room, which seemed to catch one of the crew members completely off guard and sent him racing onto the set with her booster seat.  On camera.  Get off Facebook and pay attention, dude.  We only have the studio until midnight.

Melissa talked about her wedding.  The Wedding.  Which was secret, and then wasn’t, and then happened so fast that none of the other Moms even showed up for the event.

Melissa admitted to trying to get the nuptials televised, but her previously married, then still married while dating, then divorced and now newlywed-ed (…did I just make up a new word?…) Greg Gisoni didn’t want cameras at the blessed event.

So William and Kate got all the Royal coverage, while Melissa and Greg just signed some papers in the living room, took a few iPhone movies and called it a day.

As much as I love me some Jeff Collins, his transitional questioning still leaves a little to be desired.

Moving On.  Anyway.  Changing Gears.  He’s like that kid in junior high that starts talking about his World of Warcraft character’s wicked awesome weaponry arsenal for no reason at all while you’re in the middle of discussing how your BFF just texted your boyfriend while you were at cheer practice.

Pump the brakes, man.  Don’t slam ‘em or somebody might get hurt.

All of the sudden he cuts off Melissa and asks Abby about the time that Holly called her a Monstrosity of Evil.  Which was classic, I’ll give him that one.  Classic.  But Melissa wasn’t done raving about her kids.

After announcing on national television that Holly had cankles, Abby and Jeff welcomed Nia‘s Mom (…and her allegedly fat shoe toppers…) to the studio audience.

Once again, Holly showed amazing posture and her Proud Mama Face.  In three seasons I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman slouch in her seat.  Unfortunately, she barely had time to discuss Nia’s RND symptoms before you could hear Kelly and Christi scratching at the back door.

Let’s get this party started.

Apparently, Kelly and Christi still had some outstanding issues regarding the breakdown of their friendship earlier in the season.  Or they were having a 6th grade cafeteria fight over who stole who’s Justin Bieber glitter stickers .  It was hard to tell.

You didn’t call me.  Na Huh…yes I did.  No you didn’t.  I called you three times.  Melissa said out by the monkey bars that you called from her house, which is a lie.  No way, I did call.  Ask her.  Melissa says you always make s*** up.  Yeah, well Melissa is a big poopie head.

Keep in mind that their entire falling out this season was based on Chloe not being able to keep a Bob Fosse hat on her head.  Or something.  I forget.  But being blessed with a massive Pez Head myself, I feel your pain, sistah.

Then all of the sudden while Christi was blowing off steam, Abby walked off the set like she had left her baby in the car.

That’s it.  She’s done.  Outie.

Someone say Snacks in the Green Room?  Thanks for playing.

Before Kelly and Christi went face down in the sandbox, Jeff dripped a little flop sweat and called for Jill, who proudly sashayed out completely Bump-It-Free and no longer sounding like some Cougar waiting for the pool boy to show up with his massive…ummm…pool swabbing stick.

Bow Chick A Vertes.

As long as Jill swears to never Gangnam Style again, we’re good.

Jeff ground his gears again and asked Kendall‘s Mom about all those secret private lessons and her water balloon fight with Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein.

I’m starting to think those two women don’t along very well.

Then it was a Momapalooza as all the Dance Moms lined up their high chairs and started talking over each other.

We relived the Tribute Dance for dead puppy Broadway Baby, the lack of formal invitations to Melissa’s wedding and Mackenzie’s on again/off again mystery foot ailment.

Melissa actually choked on it for a second and admitted that she regretted using a dead dog in her master plan to regain First Place positioning on the Mom Pyramid, and then danced around the whole foot thing again.

Jill stood up for Mackawhacka’s seniority when it came to dancing on The View, even with a hot mess of a toe, while Christi insisted that the whole thing was still a set up to prevent the little nugget from having to go head to head against Miss SassyPants Asia the week prior.

Trust me, I would back my car right up over my own foot before I’d twerk a booty pop against that tiny firecracker.  Monet Ray?  Oh Hey.

And then Jeff asked “Who wants to talk about Cathy?”

Well, yeah…duh…I raised my hand, but I’m not sure he could really see me.  That might only work on Romper Room through the magic mirror.

(Look it up, kids.  It’s a hilarious reference for us old timers.)

And then with a puff of smoke, Chaos Cathy burst up through the Yellow Brick Road to terrorize all the dancing Munchkins.

Cathy immediately started waving her award-winning jerky in everyone’s face, claiming that Abby was jealous of the Candy Apples.  Abby countered with some whacked out story about pent up water pressure accidentally forcing the cap off her Poland Springs bottle during the infamous backstage Slip ‘N Slide throw down.

Seriously.  She did.

Sorry, but unless that 16 oz piece of plastic was attached to a working city fire hydrant, I’m gonna have to give this round to Cathy.  Nice try, though.

Then it was a discussion about choreographer Anthony Burrell calling out Paige from the audience during her group dance performance last week, which crumbled into an argument on what dance teachers can and can not say under the legal guidelines for “critiquing.”

The short version was that you can publicly make fun of a kid, but not call their Mom a Bitch unless you really want to go there.

According to Abby, somehow during the water fight, Cathy’s tiny little purse had managed to find its way to the back of Abby’s head, causing immediate bruising, emotional duress and something that probably sounded like Julia Child tenderizing a juicy slab of raw beef.  And there were photos to prove it.

Yeah.  Melissa drew the short straw and had to snap a few shots of Abby’s bare, battered (…bare battered, not beer battered…) back, which I’m totally Googling after I’m done writing this.

Can you even imagine?

I should also point out that throughout the Reunion Show there were random questions from audience members, who I’m going to assume had either won a contest or drawn a lucky number out of one of those hats that kept falling off the kids’ heads all season.

I don’t how that worked either.  But that shizzle is totally going on Instagram, you know that.  Because they were darn excited to be in the basement in the presence of such dancing awesomeness.  Except for a few Dads who appeared to have either lost a bet or needed to be there in exchange for who knows what kind of future favors.

Jeff also tossed in some dance numbers whenever he needed a drink to sooth his nervously dry mouth.

The last routine was a group number.  Complete with Miss SassyPants herself…Asia!

So you know what that meant, right?  Do the math.  That meant that her Mom JLo was somewhere in the building.

Boom!  Kristie with a K was in the hizzle!

I could just feel it already.  And it gave me life.

Because.  We.  Love.  Her.

But then it was over.  Until next week, anyway.

Part Two.

When this happens, mmmkay?:

Let’s Go, Bitches.

 

 

Let’s Go! Let’s Go! Let’s Go! Let’s Go! Watch your tongue! Watch your tongue! Watch your tongue!

 

 

 

 

ME save it? How about YOU save it, sistah? And where’d you get that new lip gloss? It’s fabulous.

 

 

 

 

 

This s*** just got real. Back it up, JLo.

 

 

 

 

 

That crazy Candy Apple lady don’t wanna get all up in my face when your boy’s wearing his new Back To School sweater. Hellz No.

 

 

 

 

Dang, boy. I could eat you up like ice cream. Literally. Because I haven’t had any yet today.

 

 

 

You need to dial it down, Honey. I spent all season figuring out this hairstyle and I am not in the mood for you today.

 

 

 

 

 

Whatever, Bitch. I’m still the hot one.

 

 

 

 

Oh, yeah.

It’s on.

And you know the rules.

Scream.  Cry.  Rinse & Repeat.

And you better save those tears for your pillow.  Or the studio.  Or the subway.  Or that cheesecake place on the corner of Broadway and 45th.

Because it’s on.

Dance Moms took on…and nearly took down…all of Manhattan this week in preparation for the Masters of Dance Competition.

The Great White Way turned into the Great Fight Way as Abby Lee Miller and her Momtourage continued their New York City takeover with throw downs both on and off the stage, in a super-sized Season Finale that once again brought them face to screaming face with their arch enemies the Candy Apples.

Fix your feet…and run for cover, people.

Now that Abby’s co-hosting gig on The View was behind them, it was time to focus on the competition.  Time is money.

The girls had lost a good chunk of rehearsal time last week dusting off The Last Text choreography for Whoopi Goldberg and watching Asia and Mackenzie take turns being catapulted through an imaginary passenger side window.  Valuable rehearsal time that could have been put to better use, since everyone in the building already knew that MackaWhack would get the job in the end.

Two backflips, and then just lay there until you hear applause or bleed out.  Got it?

As a result, everyone needed to pick up the pace a little, because there were only a few days left before the competition.  At least there was no Pyramid of Shame to drag things down this week.

That’s right.  A Pyramid-Free episode.  You’re welcome.

Last week as you’ll recall, Chloe, Maddie, Kendall and Asia had all scored solos for the upcoming competition.  Now it was Go Time.

Knowing that Abby would be working on the individual dances first, Kelly asked if she could scoot Brooke out of the building for a quick meeting with a music producer.

(Momager Kelly, reporting for duty.)

Somehow Mom had managed to secure face time with a busy producer who was willing to cancel his meetings, have his secretary hold all his calls and drop everything to speak to yet another random girl with a youtube account.

Excuse me?  I couldn’t even get an appointment with the Personal Shopper at Bloomingdale’s the last time I was in New York, but somehow Kelly gets a music producer?  Seems fair.

Since Abby didn’t even realize that Brooke was in the room, she had no problem giving them permission to go pursue their dreams of music stardom, before casually mentioning that she thought the whole thing was a joke.

Ok.  Maybe I watch too much MTV, but most music producers I know are either named Storm or DJ Deathstroke or Li’l Sumthin Sumthin.  Not Wally.

But there he was.  And his name was Wally.  And Wally knew a Pussycat Doll.

I know, right?

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition has been over for months, and yet Robin Antin is still pimpin’ out her girls from the grave.

Melody Thornton was there.  And I’ll say it for you:  Melody who…?

You remember her.  She’s the one who’s best known for somehow not only surviving all those years in Nicole Scherzinger‘s shadow, but also for wearing that see-through lace hoochie dress at the 2012 ELLE Women In Music event.

Seriously.  You could totally see her PCDs.

Google it.  But not when you’re at work or when the kids are still up.

So not only were we asked to believe that Melody forgot her bra in the limo last year, but now the story is that she also has Brooke’s Summer Love song on her iPod.

And she knows all the words.  Shut.  Up.

So they sang together in the studio and Wally got all giggly.  He clearly remembered the dress.  And that was pretty much how that scene went down.

Back at the studio, Asia was practicing her solo.  As Mom Kristie with a K sat and observed and did that head tilt/eye squint thing she always does during rehearsals, the rest of the Moms gathered in the viewing room next door and talked smack about the Ray Family.  With Kristie right there on the other side of the glass.

Umm.  They know it’s not the same sound-proof divider that you see on CSI when you’re picking out a rapist from a lineup, right?

Newsflash:  Those ears aren’t just for dangling big a** hoops.  JLo heard everything they said.  Especially Christi with a C.

You just wait.  They wish that glass was bullet-proof.   Love me some JLo.

By the time she joined the rest of the Moms to watch the group rehearsal, it was starting to get good.

For weeks they have all been arguing back and forth about whether Asia ever cried, and why she cried, and when she cried and why grown women creepily even care.

She’s 7 years old, fercryinoutloud.  I still cry at E.T.  Don’t even get me started about when the flowers die in the clay pot, or I’ll need a hug.

Down the subway line a few stops, Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein and her Candy Apples boy band dancers were rehearsing and breaking in their new token girl dancer.

Last week, ballet-trained Victoria Miller had been chosen through an odd audition process to join Zack, Brandon, Jalen and Nick #2 for the Day of The Dead group routine.  And Anthony Burrell was in the hizzle, kickin’ the moves into high gear, when either Zack or his Mom Gina got a text from Brooke.

Because that’s what kids that age do, instead of homework or getting fresh air.

They text.

It was a little unclear whose iPhone was dinging, but the point of the text was to let all the boys know that all the ALDC girls were headed to Bryant Park for some ice skating.

Because that’s what girls that age do, instead of homework or chores.

They stalk boys.

Despite a clause in the ALDC contract that forbids ice skating (…for realz?…) and since they couldn’t find a skydiving plane on such short notice, the gang all headed to the Pond at Bryant Park to twist some ankles and get stupid around boys.

Except for Asia, who was forbidden to skate this close to a competition.  JLo was apparently the only Mom who had actually read the contract before signing it.  Fierce chicks pay attention to the deetz, mmmkay?

By the time Chaos Cathy and her posse finally arrived on the scene I couldn’t really figure out if stuffed-up Vivi-Anne was skating or not, because she falls down so much on a daily basis that it’s hard to really tell what’s going on with that kid.

Lifetime TV:  Do NOT make me ask for a Vivi-Anne sitcom again.  Just make it happen.

The next day when Abby found out about the ice skating getaway, she was not a happy camper.  And neither were the girls who had to do 100 pushups as punishment.  Except for Asia, who had sat out her time at the rink and got to rehearse while everyone else was face down on the hardwood.

And then it was time for some Christi vs. Kristie.

The whole thing just kind of erupted when Christi wouldn’t look JLo in the eyes when she was talking to her.  And Mama don’t like dat.  R-E-S-P-E-C-T me.

It was clear as soon as the throw down kicked in that both Moms had spent some quality time studying arguments between thick girls on VH1, because they both knew how to repeat the same thing over and over and over again (…a minimum of three repetitions per phrase…) and point fingers and talk to the hand and stand up and sit down and stand back up again.

“Popping Off” is the technical term.

Look me in the eye when you’re talking!  I’m looking you in the eye, Bitch!  You wanna do this?  Let’s Go!  What’re you gonna do?  Hit me?  Save it.  You save it.  No, you save it.  You save it, Infinity and Beyond, Bitch.

Oh, yeah.  It was on.

Then just as suddenly, it was over and Paige and Chloe were at crazy Cesar Rocha‘s Telsey and Company office to read a script.  Because they both want to be dancing, modeling actresses when they grow up.

Honestly, Cesar’s hair was so amazeballs that I don’t remember much about the scene.

Except that the script was something about a dad who lost his job and couldn’t bury his wife and the kid was ok with not getting a pony for her birthday.  Or something.

That hair.  Amaze.  Balls.  And that group hug at the end?  Breathtakingly awkward.

Of course, at some point the Moms found time to go have a cocktail or ten.  Nothing like loud tourists in a bar, I always say.  Thanks, Christi and Kelly, for at least not pulling out a Nikon camera and Big Apple Tour Bus schedule in front of the bartender.

Shotskis!

Not to be outdone, Chaos Cathy and Anthony had their own throw down during rehearsal when Cathy kept interrupting and trying to run the show, though it wasn’t nearly as perfect as JLo losing her nutty.

Think Soccer Mom takes a wrong turn in the SUV and ends up in the ‘hood arguing with a guy because she thinks “Big Booty Twerking” on a tee shirt is offensive.

It was like that.

Anthony flips.  Cathy cries.  Jalen stands on his head.  Jalen’s Dad Rick flips.  Jalen cries.  Anthony thinks about cuttin’ a bitch because Cathy is bat s*** cray cray.

Then we head back to Abby’s crew, and now Kendall is crying.  Is there a Full Moon or something?

Figuring we needed a break from all the dramz, we got a three minute Match.com commercial.  The Disney Channel version, anyway.

Vivi-Anne and Jalen somehow found themselves alone in a back hallway on their first date, talking about Life and Dance and Cooties and finding money on the ground.  Watching Vivi-Anne try to breath through her mouth while Jalen dorked out in front of a girl for the first time had to been seen to be believed.  Spinning on your head is clearly a lot easier than trying to understand wtf Cathy’s kid is trying to say.

Honestly, when Vivi-Anne bent over to demonstrate how she had found something shiny on the floor during one of Anthony’s meltdowns, I really didn’t think she was coming back up.  Extra points for not blacking out with such low blood sugar.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Chaos Cathy was intitally MIA, because Vivi-Anne had woken up even more congested than she usually does on the weekends.  Except someone screwed it up with bad editing that showed her in the audience before she actually made her fashionably late entrance.

They’re just lucky I was still distracted by Cesar and all that non-stop crying, because bad editing makes me go completely JLo.

The pre-game show and the actual competition were just a blur.

Victoria and her Mom chewed the biggest wads of gum I think I’ve ever seen since 4th grade recess.  Abby called Rick an a** and then Melissa threatened to kick him in the f***ing n**** if he had any down there.  The kids all went stress bag and Kristie flapped earrings around like it was her day job.

And that was in the hallway before the show even started.

The solos went fine.  It was during the ALDC group routine that it started to unravel.

Chaos Cathy and Anthony sat behind Abby and talked smack about Paige’s performance.  And Abby couldn’t let that one go.

You’d think with all the money that the Masters of Dance Arts saved on stage presentation that they could have had a few people on security detail, but apparently not.

Abby convinced Paige to confront Anthony right there in the audience.  In front of everybody.  And then it all went South.

Scream.  Cry.  Rinse & Repeat.

Paige left the stage humiliated.  Kelly ran to find her, only after laying into the entire row of seats behind her.  It was a pretty good meltdown, but I got distracted by the kid on stage behind Kelly who was wearing those gigantic patriotic clown shoes.  Please tell me someone else noticed.

Then Abby jumped on top of the pig pile.

And the audience goes wild.

Applause.  iPhone photos.  Madness.

Some kids even won some stuff, I think.  But there’s no room left for that.

The season finished off with Kelly doing some seriously ugly crying.

There’s crying.  There’s ugly crying.  And then there’s Kelly ugly crying.

Not pretty.  But it’s the season finale.  And every season finale has to end with Kelly deciding that “she’s had it.”  It’s in that same ALDC contract if I’m not mistaken.

Oh.  And Abby’s looking at property in Los Angeles.  And might leave Pittsburgh forever.

Yeah.  That happened.

It was on.  But now it’s over.

And if you feel like shedding a tear…JLo says save it.

The End.

 

 

Seriously? He’s a psychic podiatrist? And now your kid is all better, and that’s really your natural hair color? Pleez.

 

 

 

 

Just like those are your real eyelashes. And your kid’s a big playground bully.

 

 

 

 

Keep it up. Soon as I finish my Starbucks, somebody’s gonna be picking all their extensions up off the floor, sister.

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch, pleez. I used to be the pretty one.

 

 

 

 

 

Lawd. Give me the strength to not go all Jenny Knock Yo’ Block Off on some of these Bingo Ladies right now.

 

 

 

 

This is really my life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod! We’re not the craziest ones anymore! Shotskis!

 

 

 

Hi.  Thanks for coming.

And now…The Pyramid of Shame.

Boom.  Zoom.  Meow.

That’s pretty much how it went down on the latest episode of Dance Moms.

Abby Lee Miller got right to bidnezz before the opening credits even finished rolling this time around, because after coming in 2nd Place last week (…which, as foretold in the ancient Dance Scriptures, is always the First Loser…) she was not in the mood for games.  Or all the smack talk that was just about to be unleashed.

The ALDC had not only been beaten out of the top spot, but they had been beaten out of the top spot by several dance teachers that Abby did not even know.  Strangers.

So it was time to put the pressure on, starting with the required reveal of the latest Seriously…Maddie Again? Pyramid of Shame.

Bottom row was looking pretty familiar.  Mackenzie, Paige and Kendall.

MackNapSack was still on the ground floor because she had not danced in last week’s competition, thanks in part to whatever it was that was going on with her foot that day.

Nobody really seemed to know what the dealio was with her doinked up foot anymore except that she was originally told by some mysterious unnamed doctor to not dance for two weeks.  Unless she was somehow immaculately, miraculously cured of all ailments earlier than expected, of course.

Then it would be ok to dance.  Hold that thought.

Paige was back on the bottom because she held the American flag upside down at the end of the patriotic group dance and apparently almost ignited an enemy invasion of our shores, even though the jury is still out on whether or not it was really Asia‘s fault for getting the thing all goobed up on Paige’s head during the hand-off.  That one will probably end up in some dead file with all the other unsolved dance mysteries, because nobody could agree on a verdict.

And, of course, Brooke was hanging low again because she’s Brooke. Not to mention the whole Mom Kelly thing and the fact that Brooke seems to be phoning in her participation lately.  Which is probably pretty easy to do, considering that she never looks up from that hot pink Barbie iPhone when she’s off the dancefloor.

OMG.  Boys.  LOL.  Boys.  TTFN.  Send.

Second tier was all about Chloe, Nia and the aforementioned Asia.  They all did a great job at the last competition and got rave reviews, but 2nd row is basically just an FAA holding pattern to allow AirMaddie to zoom past, land and then taxi up to the best spot on the tarmac.

And she did.  Maddie was at the top of the Pyramid again. Yadda yadda yadda.

This week, providing the gang could get their shizzle together and focus, they would all be heading to Youngstown, OH for the Energy Dance Competition.  That’s the competition with that gigantic projected backdrop featuring the silhouette of a dancer that looks like some five year old took his Crayola and traced over a map of Italy.

Seriously.  What is that?

As Abby was about to hand out solos and such, she noticed that MackSlap wasn’t wearing her air cast.  And wasn’t she supposed to be chillin’ like a villain off that thing for a full two weeks?

Sounding like she got caught sucking on a giant Gobstopper jawbreaker, tiny MackSplat said that she felt better and that yes…no…maybe…she had been to the doctor again and he might have said it was probably definitely could be ok to do stuff.

Really.  She gave all those answers at once.  Like Jodie Arias, but without the fake glasses and the headstand.  Don’t get me started on that one.

Melissa came to her defense.  Kinda.  Sorta.

Yes, they had seen the doctor.  But no, they hadn’t.  And he said it was ok if she felt better, because a 7 year old always knows more about juvenile podiatry than someone who went to med school.  The doctor had even somehow managed to x-ray MackSmack’s gimp foot simply by having Melissa press the phone receiver up against her leg and count to 30.  You have to admire the advances in modern medicine.

I don’t know.  It was so jumbled I just went and got a snack.  If you DVRed the episode and plan on watching it later, right now is when you can go to the refrigerator and not miss anything.

Maddie and Chloe scored solos.  Nia and Asia, Fierce 1 & Fierce 2, were matched up in a duet.  Both of them.  Together.

Can I get a Halleloooo from the congregation?

The group number was entitled Hear No Evil (…as in: ‘Don’t listen to any of your Moms’ crap’…) but Maddie wouldn’t be participating.  She would be assisting with the choreography.  Which was somehow different than being an Assistant Choreographer.

Don’t ask.

The assignment immediately opened up a whole can of whoop a** MomWorms in the MomPerch.  Let the games begin.

If Abby really felt that the rest of the girls were dragging Maddie down, then why doesn’t she just move the Golden Child on up to the Senior Group and be done with it?  And if Maddie is really the team leader, why pull her out of a number and set the rest of the dancers up for guaranteed failure?  And what’s the freakin’ difference between assisting and being an Assistant, anyway? And why is Asia having so much trouble keeping up with the tall kids?

And most importantly, why are some of Kristie with a K‘s earring so small this week?

Unacceptable.

Then it was time for this week’s classic Leave It To Christi Moment:

Yo.  Melissa.  Sup?  How’d your kid’s foot get better so fast?  It’s like freakin’ magic or something.  Thought she was busted up, yo.

Oh, snap.

She rested it.  You made it up.  She feels better.  You lie.  No I didn’t.  She’s just scared of competing with the big kids.  No, she’s not.  Yes, she is.  You lie.  Oh, yeah?  Well, I hate your hair that way.

Luckily, Abby received a call from one of Barbara Walters‘ bitches down at ABC before all the Moms could pig pile on top of Melissa for (…allegedly…) lying about her age, her taxes and her kid’s toe.

Abby, decked out in some seriously bedazzled red crystal jewelry, including what was either one of those Joan Rivers QVC Christmas Cardinal bird bracelets or a pair of Mob Wives lips cast straight from Big Ang‘s face, had been invited to cohost The View!

In New York City!

I know, right?  Where’s Star Jones when you need her?  Can you imagine that throw down?  Babs also wanted Abby to bring along the girls and present one of their award winning routines for everyone at home to see.

Somebody must have then realized that nobody had done much actual rehearsing, because all of the sudden everyone got back to their routines.

Can I just take a second to mention how much I used to love that sloppy, graffiti bench that Abby always sits on during rehearsals?  It’s total sixth grade drama club prop, and always looks like the paint is still wet.

This week I finally figured out that up on the left side somewhere it says “Text Me” with what must be an actual phone number, because sometimes the producers blur it like they do a crackhead’s eyes during a trailer park bust on COPS.

For three seasons I thought it said “Eat Me” and that they were pixelating out something really good.  But no such luck.  False alarm…turn the trucks around.  It’s just a phone number.  Not so fascinated anymore.

Anyway.

Abby decided that for The View, they would present “The Last Text.”  That’s the dance where Paige drives a car into a telephone pole because she’s not paying attention to the road, and little MackYak backflips through the window and bleeds out on the stage because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt while screwing off on a cell phone.

Except that this time it looked like it might be Asia who would be catapulting out the passenger side, because Mack was supposed to stay off that foot, despite her suddenly excellerated mutant healing factor.  Needless to say, the chance to dance in NYC opened up the MomWorms again and Melissa got (bleeped) out a few times.

No.  I don’t believe you.  And I will call the F***ing doctor myself.  Bitch.

Somewhere amidst all the accusations, Brooke met with a voice coach to talk about her singing career and get some pointers before they all went to NYC.  Well, actually Mom and the voice coach did all the talking.  Brooke just phutzed with her iPhone (…one of my biggest pet peeves EVER…) and didn’t even look at up the coach.  Maybe she was just rehearsing the group dance in her head.  Who knows with that kid.

And the coach’s name was Hilerie.  For realz.  Spelled like she was some kind of Toddlers & Tiaras wannabe, or something.

With one day to go before the competition, it was getting a little stressful up in the MomPerch.  And stress always makes for good TV.

According to outside sources, Maddie had allegedly let all that new assistant power go right to her head and taken both her newfound authority and her favorite Unicorn Trapper Keeper right up to Asia and told her that she would not be performing on The View next week.  At least that was the word on the street.

Melissa said it never happened, but now that you mention it…Asia is being a totally sissy pants bully to Mackenzie and got caught dropping a construction block from the roof of the ALDC right on to little Mack’s bumb leg.

And then JLo’s eyes got really, really crazy wide like they do right before her earrings start flapping.  Love.  Her.

JLo accused Melissa of being passive/aggressive.  Melissa got all passive/aggressive and denied it.  JLo called the whole sore toe thing a big charade.  Fingers and eyeballs and earrings were flying everywhere.

In other developments, Christi seemed pretty normal this week and Kelly finally realized that you could fill a water bottle with vodka and nobody would even know the difference.

The only thing that could possibly top all the smack talk this week was Abby’s already infamous Drag Queen Walk.

In an attempt to inspire Nia and Asia to Fierce Greatness, Abby showed the two little niblets how to drag walk in their routine.  No, really.  She did.  Like a Boss.

Picture Bette Midler and The Penguin from the second Batman movie having an illegitimate son who eventually grows up to perform with a Las Vegas touring company that only does cruise ships.  Over accessorized with duct tape on his nibblies, of course.

It was like that.  And it pretty much gave me life.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Chloe and Maddie both aced their solos.  Maddie looked like one of those plastic ballerina cake toppers you buy at iParty and Chloe’s legs actually grew another inch during the performance.  Slo-Mo the tape and I swear you’ll see it right before your very eyes, like a garden bean.

If you read the program, there were supposed to be approximately 14 numbers performed before the duet hit the stage, so naturally Nia and Asia were called up right after the solos.  Unstretched, unrehearsed and barely duct taped.

But they werked it out like two Real Housewives of Atlanta hairdressers in Reynolds Wrap Lost In Space uniforms, Miss Thang, and made Shangela proud.

Maddie gave a quick Super Bowl motivational speech to the team and then sent everyone out onto the field for the group dance, which they nailed.

As a result, the ALDC pretty much owned the awards ceremony.

Special shout out to the dude tossing tee shirts and who-knows-what into the audience like he worked at Fenway Park.  I’ll take a size medium shirt and a size large ball park frank over here, please.

After the competition, there was just enough time to run through next week’s NYC routine so Abby could finally decide which little kid would get to throw herself out the window and into the national spotlight.

And the winner is:

Psych.  You wish.

You’ll find out when Barbara Walters finds out.

To be continued…