Posts Tagged ‘Bridget and Lucas’

Dance Moms: Now You See Her. Now You Don’t. Where Is Abby This Week? And Who’s Running The Show Here?

Wednesday, August 21st, 2013




Oh hey, Girlfriend. Come on in. Just giving myself a keratin treatment and eating that big a** plate of Dunkin’ Donuts back there.





I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do? I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do? I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do?






Pardon me, Ma’am. Is this seat taken? I’d kinda like to see what it feels like to sit with winners for a change. You mind?






Excuse me all to Hell for not coughing up $1,000 for a damn dance class. These weaves ain’t cheap.







Bitch, please. I know synthetic when I see it. And the tag goes in the back. Lawd.







Seriously? Do you really have to pose in every outfit? I’m pretty sure everyone knows by now that you’re the Hot Mom.






Friends don’t let friends drink and drive.  Or ugly cry in high definition.





Sound the alarm.

Release the bloodhounds.

And straighten your feet for crying out loud.

Nobody panic, but Pittsburgh is going on lockdown.  The inmates are running the prison.

If you’re the kind of person who looks for the most bang from your buck, you definitely got your money’s worth this week.  Dance Moms had pretty much everything that you love to hate about the show all stuffed into one jam packed hour.  Mama Drama, tears, hilarity, hysteria, loads of sassy smack talk…and even a few moments of actual dancing.

The only thing they didn’t seem to have was anyone in charge.

That’s right.  For the second week in a row, the ALDC bus was speeding downhill with no brakes and no driver as Abby Lee Miller remained mysteriously absent for the majority of the episode, appearing and disappearing into the shadows like some kind of plus sized Ninja warrior whenever the mood felt right.

The general consensus between all the Moms was that Abby had taken time off to be with her ailing mother, though there were lingering questions regarding a Starpower judging opportunity, some random party girl Instagram postings and that mysterious “Mandy” who kept answering Abby’s cell phone whenever they called.

So basically, no one had any idea what was going on.

Leave it to Melissa to get to the bottom of things.  Before breakfast.

In what was clearly supposed to be a surprise drop-in visit over at Abby’s house (…“Melissa?  Is that you?  Oh, heeeeey”…) Maddie‘s Mom showed up unannounced to check in on Abby and find out what was really going on.  Except that the camera guy clearly beat her to it and was already filming Abby piling up a mound of donuts by the time she got there.

Yeah.  I’m thinking it wasn’t much of an unannounced drive-by unless the camera guy just happened to come over early to help Abby condition her hair.  Some dudes are into that kind of thing I suppose.


And can we talk about how many donuts were on that plate?

Portion control, honey.  You don’t want to slip into a diabetic coma and be found on the floor still wearing that blinged out towel head wrap.

I still can’t decide whether Abby reminded me of a fortune teller or the Head of that Witches Counsel they used to always show on Bewitched or one of those crazy Boca ladies who go out in their housecoats to get the mail and when you look through the open door you always see The Price Is Right on the television and about 15 cats.

There was a lot going on in that little kitchen.

Melissa pleaded her case to get Abby back to the studio before the upcoming Nationals, but she didn’t do very well.  Abby wanted to be close to her mother and as far away as possible from Kelly and her two kids now that they had snuck back into the ALDC.

After getting confirmation that Maddie would (…naturally…) get a chance to dance at Nationals and then stuffing a few Bavarian Cremes in her purse, Melissa was on her way.

Back at the studio, choreographer Gianna was large and in charge for a second week and ready to bring home another win.  She knew that the gang would be heading to Charleston, WV for another Masters of Dance Competition, but she didn’t know if Abby would be tagging along or not.

She also knew that Chloe was doing a solo this week, Asia was going to eat Mackenzie alive in a dueling divas duet and that the group routine was going to be amaze balls.

As the girls all got to rehearsing and the Moms headed upstairs, we scooted up to Ohio to check in with the Candy Apples and see what evil comic book plot Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein was hatching this week.

That momentary spike in the Twitterverse that may or may not have slowed down your laptop right around this point was the return of Zack Torres.

That’s right, girls.  You can start screaming now.  It’s a full blown Zack Attack!


Now that Anthony Burrell had apparently separated himself from the Candy Apples and would no longer be forcing any more boys into inappropriate Pinocchio high kicks in Richard Simmons shorty shorts, the coast was clear for Zack to return.

And now that he was back, just the thought of Zack and Lady Killer Lucas Triana one-legging it together on stage pretty much gave Cathy the vapors.  She may have even wet herself a little, but they only shot her from the waist up so I can’t be certain.

Chaos Cathy unveiled her Apple TV power point pyramid, which is always too hard for me to figure out since it kind of goes in an odd circle instead of just up and down like Abby’s Pyramid of Shame.  All that really matters is that Lucas was on top of the apple tree and his Danny Zuko from Grease headshot pretty much always gives me life.

Rama Lama Ding Dong.

Cathy also called out Nicaya for not being as well trained as the other dancers and then we got to watch Mom Kaya get all hood rat about the high price of tap class.

Will someone please get this bitch her own show or do I have to post for some Kickstarter funding on my own?  Seriously.

In my head, Kaya and Kristie Ray share an apartment like Laverne & Shirley and just go around the country smacking people around all day.  Could you die?

I’ll let you know when my pilot gets the green light.  It’s gonna be awesome sauce.

Cathy had seen on social media (…that’s what it’s called, you know…) that Chloe would be doing a solo in Charleston, so she was going to put Zack up against her on stage.

She claimed that Chloe was not as good a dancer as she used to be, which I assumed was a reference to her days of dancing in a dress made out of cold cuts and jerky meat.

It’s a shame to peak at such a young age.

Back in Pittsburgh, the Moms were once again voicing their concern that Abby should be on site helping them get ready for the end of the dance season and not hiding out God knows where.


Melissa’s selective memory also resurfaced as she got a little foggy on whether or not Abby had actually mentioned anything about Maddie getting a solo at Nationals.

Of course she did.

Somewhere around this point I also lost track of how many OhHellNo faces Holly had made thus far in the episode.  I was really trying to count them because I had a good feeling that this week was going to break all the records and I thought there might be an online contest later, but Girlfriend was busting that shiz out so fast I couldn’t keep up.

Oh snap.

I’m pretty sure they also spliced in a bunch of old scenes between Christi and Kelly again, because everything they said about Abby and the kids we’ve already heard a million times.  Even the fat jokes were last week’s fat jokes.  Time for some new shtick.

Up in Ohio, that cow with the #20 ear tag was back stealing the opening scene as crazy faced Yvette tried to help Cathy with choreography.

And by ‘help’ I mean walking that fine Yvette line between assisting someone with a group number and actually climbing up a ladder and putting your own damn name on the outside of the building.

Dial it down a notch, sistah.  The building’s not on fire.

Yvette also started bringing back her patented t-shirt catch phrases that first made her a star on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.

Remember last year when she first unleashed her krazy on all of us and every sentence was nothing but “Dance for the Cause, NOT the Applause” or “Tap it don’t Slap it” or “Asia’s Mom’s a Total Bitch?”

Remember all that hilarity?  Well…it’s back.  So get used to it.

And you know what else was back?

The Abby-nator!

I know, right?  About time.

Abby strolled into the ALDC like nothing had ever happened, bullied Paige and Brooke a little and then took a few Christi F-bombs right in the face.


There was a big argument regarding who broke the ALDC contract the most by swearing or not showing up or blah blah blah.  They even pointed out that the ALDC legal paper mumbo jumbo said something about creating a ‘nourishing’ environment, which I think was supposed to have been ‘nurturing’ environment, unless there is an actual cafeteria on the premises.

That part got a little weird.  Read the fine print, ladies.

Luckily, it was National Exposed Shoulder Week and all the Moms were rocking those cold shoulder tops that they make such a big deal about on QVC, so that distracted me from all the swearing.

I’m not lying.  Go back and look at how many of the ladies were showing skin.  And they were totally pissed that only my girl Kristie knew how to do it like they show in Cosmo.


As both teams finished up rehearsals before the Big Day, it was clear that Hadley didn’t use enough sunscreen last weekend and that Asia was gonna turn Kenzie out like that fourth member of Destiny’s Child that nobody remembers.

Love you Mackadoodle, but you should probably just stick to clown noses and pigtails.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And a CNN report on the bloody riots in the streets of Egypt.

Which turned out to be a false alarm, because it was actually just the ALDC and the CADC contingents coming face to face in a sign-holding, parking lot screaming match that looked like one of those housekeeper rallies gone bad.

When Kristie got accused of touching Cathy I died.  Right there on my couch.  I died.

I can’t even imagine sitting in the back seat with Kristie when she was little on long family vacation rides to the Grand Canyon.

I’m touching you.  Quit it.  I’m touching you.  Quit it.  Mom!

That Dilbert guy from Candy Apples didn’t stand a chance once those earrings got flapping and Kristie did her now infamous bad a** mime hands all up in his grill.

I’ll say it again.  Once that ponytail starts whipping around it looks like the final battle scene from The X-Men.  Let’s go!

Love.  Her.


Ninja Abby no-showed, by the way.  Go figure.

Inside, I don’t know if it was planned or not, but there was a space between the seats that allowed all of America to see Kristie’s fashion model legs.  Like they used to do with Mary Hart on Entertainment Tonight with that awkward crotch light.

It was a total NeNe Leakes shiny leg Watch What Happens Live moment.  Dang, girl.

It should probably also be noted that poor Jill, on the other hand, was wearing a floor length maxi-dress with four rows of folding movie chairs in front of her.  Just saying.

All the dancing was pretty good.  Zack and Lucas had no shirt on again.  I’m not sure if Lucas even owns one or if he just keeps forgetting his backpack in Miami.

Christi spent the remainder of the show screaming like some drunk chick at Mardi Gras trying to score plastic jewelry in exchange for a quick flash of her t***s.  Really.  She did.

Throw me some beads, Mister!

Out in the hallway all the Moms met up again, and somehow Mom Gina #2 made it sound like Cathy did all the choreography and inadvertently dissed Yvette in front of all the ALDC peeps.

Meltdown in 3…2…1…

Yvetter lost her nutty and got way too close to my television screen.  Waaaaay too close.

When it was all said and done, Abby’s team won all the good stuff.  Which, if you do the math, meant that the Candy Apples team didn’t.

More tears.  More dramz.

With only a few weeks left until Nationals, there was still no Abby…and not much of a chance that anyone in Ohio needed to buy any bus tickets in the near future.

Candy Apples was in shambles and the ALDC was missing it’s Leader.

Now what?

Raise your hands if you can’t wait to find out what happens next week…


Dance Moms: Girrrl, Pleez…It’s Time Take Off Your Spanx And Have A Seat, Because It’s Clash Of The Mamas.

Wednesday, July 31st, 2013




Imma ’bout to pop these acrylics and show you all how Mama likes to dance.







Oh Hell No. Why is Anthony yelling at me? And why is he wearing a dress?







Umm. Hello? Excuse me everyone, but my name is Payton. And I’m better than you.






Really? You’re just lucky little Britney back there is taping this on her iPhone with the pink bow, or these damn earrings would be off already.





Srsly? Where the hell is the waiter? My burger’s cold and this beer’s been empty for like ten minutes. Dang.






Did I miss a memo while I was in LA? When did my show get so ratchet?







Meanwhile, at Walmart…





Who gon’ check me, Boo?

Who, you ask?  Well, since there were about 110 Moms to choose from on the latest episode, I guess you could probably just take your pick.

Holy Dance Moms Overload, Batman.

They were coming out of the woodwork and dropping down through the air ducts like ninjas this week.  Moms everywhere.

Old ones.  New ones.  Missing ones.  Classy ones.  Sassy ones.  Returning ones.  Guest star ones.  Senile ones.  Questionably attired ones.  Ones that could mess you up and still be home in time for dinner.

It was literally Mamas fo’ Miles, which coincidentally enough, is the new charity organization I just invented that will ensure every overprivileged kid in every white collar suburban school gets their own 64GB iPad so they can Google the word ‘Ratchet.’

What the Hell did I just watch?

I need to go back and check my notes to see if anyone actually danced on the show this week.  I’m so disoriented that I can’t even remember.

It was full on Real Housewives of Pittsburgh, I tell you.  So let’s not waste any time.

Coming off another successful annual ALDC Recital, it was time to hit the studio and get ready for the next competition.  After the Pyramid of Shame, of course.

Basement seating had been reserved for Paige, Brooke, Asia and Nia.

Paige and Brooke has missed yet another recital, thanks to yet another (bleeped) out meltdown by Mom Kelly, so they kind of deserved the bottom row even though it wasn’t really their fault.  I felt bad for them, but honestly I was more jealous that Kelly had so much money that she can afford to pay for a dance studio that she never uses.  Feel free to adopt me.  Those girls are screaming for a whacky big brother.

Nia was down there once again because she was good, but not great.  Abby wanted more from little La Quifa.  She also wanted Asia to stop wearing her pants backwards.

The middle row was filled with Mackenzie, Maddie (…say Wha–?) and Chloe.


Maddie was knocked down a peg because she didn’t immediately raise her hand and offer to do a solo last week.  Chloe was considered the MVP of the recital, but her Mom was still Christi and you know how that usually goes down.  MackAttack was chastised for not knowing enough Nerd Moves, which I guess is now a bad thing in schools today.


Top of the heap was Kendall and her Mean Girls magazine cover shoot.  Werk it, girl.

This week they were all headed to a brand new competition in Lancaster, PA called Believe National Talent Competition.  Which doesn’t even have the word ‘Dance‘ in the title, so it wasn’t really clear if you could also sing and juggle for prizes.  I assumed that they would be editing out all the ventriloquism acts since this is Dance Moms, after all, but Abby kind of skimmed over all the rules.

Chloe, Kendall and Nia would be doing a solo, just so Maddie could make a pouty face.

The group routine was called ‘Open Waters’ and would be performed with a prop which basically looked like a repainted wedge of cheese that MackSplat probably used for backflips during one of the gazillion times she was dressed up like a country mouse.

And speaking of country.  It was off to Ohio and the Evil Dance Lair known as Candy Apples!  Cue the drive-in movie music.

After losing out again to the ALDC, Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein had apparently shipped her entire boy band dance team off into the Witness Protection Program, because they were just gone.

I mean…gone.  Like vanished.  Without a trace.  Not even Jalen‘s crybaby Daddy Rick or his box of kleenex was left as evidence.

In their place was yet another newly created team fresh off the Anthony Burrell assembly line.


AUDC alum Hadley had stuck around so Lifetime could continue to pimp out the upcoming season.  (Coming September 3rd to a television near you.)

The fact that her Mom Yvette is about 110 pounds of Crazy in a Crazy Sack probably didn’t hurt her chances either.  Plus, if there’s ever an opportunity for my girl Kristie Ray to pop off on Yvette…well, you can just sign me up right now.

Hit Me!  Go ahead.  Hit Me!  Those were good times, weren’t they?

Nicaya was back again, mainly so America could keep saying ‘Black Patsy‘ every time her ‘hood Mama walked into a scene and not get judged.  If she picked the name, you can’t be getting all Paula Deen on my a**, mmmkay?

Mari and Mom Gina D. were also back at Candy Apples, but now Mom was allowed to lose the “D” off the end of her name due to Zack‘s Mom having gone MIA.

Some newbie Brooke #2 showed up, along with her mouthy Mom Michelle, who pretty much got up in Anthony’s face before they even chose seating arrangements.

But the big dealio news flash was the Return of Lucas Triana.

Yes.  Hold on to your panties, girls.  Lady Killer Lucas is back in the Dance Moms hizzle.

You remember Lucas.  Twenty years after Dance Moms: Miami got the axe and he still looks exactly the same.  Still made of the same goop they use in Stretch Armstrong toys and still busting out that one leg up in the air move that he invented.

Mom Bridget, on the other hand, looked a little traumatized at having to give up all her comfortable teal surroundings at the beach and shlep her kid all the way up to Ohio, but you do whatchoo gotta do, I guess.

The Candy Apples team would also be heading to Lancaster this week, so Anthony had created a Four Seasons group dance (…the actual seasons of the year, not the hotel…) which was basically four girls running in a circle around Lucas while he stuck his leg up in the air.  But they still needed to rehearse, just to be safe.


As did the ALDC girls back in Pittsburgh.  Except that there were some noticeable holes in the choreography with Paige and Brooke being held hostage in their own home.  So Abby called in some replacements.

Payton was back…again.  All 8 feet of her.

Up in the MomPerch they all braced themselves for what they knew would be coming next:  Payton’s Mom Leslie.

No lie.  It was just like in a Godzilla movie or something as she clunked up the stairs.

The camera wobbled like the ceiling tiles were about to drop to the floor.  Go back and watch it again.  I’m not making it up.  It was perfect timing.

Seriously.  How much does this chick weigh?  Or maybe Lifetime just needs to hire cameramen who can handle 40 pounds of camera on their shoulders while walking backwards up a flight of stairs.  I’ll cut her some slack since I don’t have all the details.

Plus we need to talk about Kristie some more.

This week she had gone to the salon and got her hair all did up in one of those really tight JLo buns that make your earrings look even bigger than they already are, so naturally I couldn’t wait for the first head snap.

And how much do you love Kristie’s posture?  Straight up proper spinal alignment like they teach you in the military.  She always looks like she’s sitting in the middle of that couch on The View waiting for Whoopie to ask her a question about self defense while the rest of the Moms slouch back like they’re watching the Superbowl.

And even better than that, did you see when Leslie plopped all her Godzilla goodness down in Kelly’s spot and Kristie gave her some SideEye?  Tell me Mama Ray didn’t look like some socialite taking public transportation for the first time because her stretch limo was in the shop.

Jeeves.  Who are all these common people…and why are they sitting so close to me?

Get me my hand sanitizer.  It’s in my Louis bag.

Love.  Her.


And then, with absolutely no advance warning at all, there was a commercial for Lifetime’s Double Divas show and I saw Abby Lee Miller in a bra that didn’t fit.

On a widescreen plasma.

I now have to sleep with a nightlight and hope that maybe one day I’ll get the vision back in my right eye.  You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, Lifetime.

The Momapalooza continued with Chaos Cathy taking her mom and sniffly Vivi-Anne out to lunch to discuss the upcoming competition.  Grandma had no idea where she was and Vivi-Anne just sat there snarfing up burgers for the winter.

Nana noted with a breaking newsflash that Vivi-Anne was certainly ‘an Eater.’  Which is pretty much right up there with acknowledging that the sky is blue.  Duh.

There was also some really poor editing where there was absolutely no food on the table anywhere and then all of a sudden, in the middle of a conversation, Cathy was leaning over her plate globbing up a bowl of nachos like the meal had just been beamed down with that machine they used to use in Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Get it together, people.  Probably the same guy who couldn’t hold the camera steady.

Back in the MomPerch, Leslie continued her mission to take over Kelly’s spot permanently while Kristie phutzed with her touchscreen…either tweeting me or blocking my account.  It was hard to tell.

Yes.  Kristie tweets me.  Don’t be hatin’.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And Pre-Showtime, which was even better.

Payton mouthed off (…again…) by making sure that everyone in the room knew her name after Abby accidentally called her Kendall.  Say my name.  Say my name.

Unless you spell it “B-E-Y-O-N-C-É” I think you can dial it down a notch, honey.

Out in the lobby, Kristie and Yvette got right down to bidnezz in front of the Believe CEO Gary, who kind of looked like an actor and my mailman all at the same time.

In the heat of the battle, JLo’s new bun made her look like Patti LaBelle werkin’ the last chorus of Over the Rainbow as her earrings flapped all around the room and she did that sharp point the finger/pull it back even faster thing that I still have yet to master.

Really, Yvette?  Really?  Take your spanx off.  Take your spanx off.


I just can’t.  How do I make that my ringtone?

Then there was actually about 45 seconds of dancing, but nobody really cared because it’s always about the After Party.

And Anthony’s Mama.

Girl, pleez.  Lifetime, if you’re not going to give Vivi-Anne her own spin-off, you damn well better be coming up with something for this piece of work.  Or I will.

All techno-weave and back tattoos, Anthony’s Mom had overheard somebody talking shiz about him (…that’s my baby!…) and pretty much just left a burning cigarette on the window ledge and came inside with her lady friends for a beat down.

Bring it on sez Jill.  I see where Anthony gets it.


Apparently, after you’ve had Black Patsy push your nose half way across the room, you completely lose all fashion sense as well as your fear of Death.

Anthony’s Mama got all up in Jill’s grill while the other 109 Moms gathered around like they were filming it for youtube.

Screaming Moms.  Yelling Moms.  It was like 4:59am in a Target parking lot on Black Friday when you know there are only 12 pairs of Air Jordans in the whole store.

Let’s just say that it gave me life…and that the unedited Director’s Cut DVD is going to be the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.  Ever.

Coming and going, Anthony’s Mama was just a wrecking ball in a racer back.

Luckily, she took off to Sears for a new Ratchet Wrench before she could pummel Jill into a puddle of fake fur and lace, and everyone got to leave the competition in one piece.  Flustered, but with all their veneers intact.

Lawd.  Anthony’s Mama.

Who would’ve guessed that  Abby Lee Miller in a poorly fitted bra was no longer the most traumatizing thing I had to witness this week?

I seriously need to take off these damn spanx and chill.  It’s been a rough night.


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