Posts Tagged ‘Bring It! Memphis TN’

Bring It!: Locked In And Turnt Up. It’s The Dolls Vs. The Dollz In A Memphis Bucking Burlesque Showdown.

Saturday, April 26th, 2014

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All the crazy ladies. Put your hands up.

 

 

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She’s totally two gurlz short of a Destiny’s Child Reunion, but dang that bitch is fine.

 

 

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Somedays I just wanna lock ALL the crazy ones in the building and go buy stuff at the mall.

 

 

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This is the most ratchet Disneyland vacation evah. They’re even gettin’ cheap with the hats.

 

 

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I dunno whether Miss D said to put some stank on it or some steak on it. But I like ‘em both.

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Dat’s rite. Whip that around. Mama like.

 

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Memphis just lucky I didn’t wanna mess up my new hair or it woulda been Black Friday at Walmart.

 

 

 

Srsly.

If you don’t love Bring It! I’m not sure we can be friends anymore.

I mean, c’mon.

Sure, it’s crazy.  Everything about it is.  But it’s the good kind.

From the Moms (…and Dads!…) to their whacky hair and whacky fashion choices to the even whackier way they talk and scream and giggle all over the sidewalks of Jackson.

Cray.  Zee. To the umpteenth power of Cray.

But deep down there is still a strong message about working hard and loving your family and supporting your kids in whatever dream they dare to dream.  There’s even a ton of hip hop dancing that is waaay harder than anything I’ve ever busted out at the clubs.

(Not that I couldn’t, of course.  I just hate showing off…)

Heck, I’m even learning how to paint toxic glitter swirlies directly onto my own eyeballs without going legally blind.  It’s not as easy as it looks.

So, yeah.  Bring It!  We like it.

This week, the Dancing Dolls were headed back to Memphis, Tennessee.  Again.

Since I pride myself on only blogging about subjects that I know absolutely nothing about, I have no idea why they keep going back to Memphis.  They just do.

And now they’re going again.

After having lost out to the Purple Diamonds at the most recent competition, it was important to Coach Dianna Williams that everyone hit the ground running.

That meant bigger Stands, more elaborate choreography and working through the trauma of having just witnessed your rivals spank their own jiggly purple bodonkadonks in a show of both poor sportsmanship and clear love for fast food.

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‘Member dat?  Dat s*** nasty.  The Purple Diamonds turned and spanked themselves all up in the Dolls’ faces as they snatched the trophy.  I’m having trouble getting that visual out of my brain when I go to bed every night and I only saw their junk on a TV screen.

I call it PDPTSD.  When you figure it out, it’s inappropriately hilarious.

This week the Dolls would be competing at the Bucking Burlesque (…with a ‘B‘…) Competition and be facing off against the Dancing Cloverleafs, the Prancing Tigerettes, the Rockettes (…probably not the New York ones…) the Sparkling Jewels, the Dynamic Diamond Dollz (…with a ‘Z‘ like Liza…) and the Girls Who Would OMG Literally Die If They Ever Met One Direction.

The Dolls would be performing in the Stand Battle and Burlesque categories, which would put them head to head against their other closest rivals the Diamond Dollz.

Miss D was concerned about over-sexualizing the Burlesque routine.  The Dolls are all still just school age girls, remember, so we’d like to keep it that way a little longer.

Honestly, after six seasons of Toddlers & Tiaras nothing really phases me anymore, but I totally get where she was going with it.  Once you’ve seen a 3 year old booty pop to a Shirley Temple song it takes a lot to make me look up from my snack tray.

As the Dolls got to rehearsing inside, the Mamas were all outside doing what they do best.

Seloncé got the party started by declaring that the Team needed to win this weekend because they didn’t need any more ‘looses’…as opposed to ‘losses’…which has more ‘Ss’ and less ‘Os’ in the word.

Oh, Selena.  You just stay cute.

Right about now was when the Mamas lost their marbles.

It’s Rittany Bitch, who was balancing about 3 feet of new braids on top of her head, almost untied them all she was laughing so hard.  My girl Tina actually did knock her wig off, because she was standing their in kinda sorta her own hair for the first time ever.

Except that a few weeks ago, if you’ll recall, when she snatched her own weave during some drama with Seloncé she only had fuzzy Kool-Aid hair up under there.  And now it was long.  Still as neon red as that Play-Doh you’re not supposed to put in your mouth.

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But really long now.

So I’m thinking…you know.

And then there was Mimi.  Everyone’s favorite Neighborhood Watch-er was bouncing around like a tennis ball in a dryer, which made these two gigantic pom poms on her knit hat wobble back and forth like she was Mickey Mouse having some kind of a stroke.

I’m not really sure if the hat was supposed to look like a bootleg Disney gift shop item, or if it was the Real Deal, or if Mimi even knew there were two pom poms boinking around on her head.

But it didn’t matter.  Love her.  Love them all.  Don’t make me choose.  That would be like picking one of my kids.

Back inside, the Dolls (…with an ‘S‘…) were still working on the Burlesque choreography.  It was new.  And different.  And required about 72 girls all on the floor at the same time, so needless to say a few of them were having some fender benders in all that traffic.

When they finally made the switch to rehearsing the new Stand specifically created for the Dollz (…with a ‘Z‘…) it was getting late and it just wasn’t happening.

Lock-In!!!

Wait.  What?  It’s like a sleepover.  If they have sleepovers in Hell, that is.

Dianna announced that the Team was being locked inside the Dollhouse for the night and would rehearse until paramedics discovered their bodies in the morning if that’s how long it took to nail down these routines.

Bitch was getting Krunk.

The Mamas took the Lock-In news fairly well, except for Mimi.  Aw.  Hell.  Naw.  Her Mickey ears were flapping so hard that the International Space Station probably picked it up as code for some kind of international disturbance.

Gurrrrrl, pleez.  Chillax.

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The Moms were sent home to retrieve sleeping bags and shower caps, so naturally Seloncé returned with enough shizz to get Sunjai through her Freshman year at college.  The 45 pound Poland Springs water jug was a nice touch and would certainly have come in handy during the Lock-In if Sunjai had remembered to pack a 100 pound office water cooler base unit and industrial extension cord in her dance bag that morning.

Really, Seloncé?  Lawd.  Or Lort.  You choose.

Not to be outdone, Rittany showed up with one of those ribbed inflatable air mattress/pool floaty things that always remind me of giant Oscar Mayer wiener packages.

After every Mama emptied out their daughter’s bedroom and shoved it through the door of the Dollhouse, the girls went back to practicing until they couldn’t practice anymore.  Then it was time to hit the wieners and call it a night.

The next morning we got to see what happens to your hair when you sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor of a dance studio all night.

But it’s all good. Trust me, I’m not taking selfies when I wake up on the floor either.

At least that one girl brushed her teeth, right?

(Relax.  That’s a joke.  They all did.  It’s only a one hour show.  You do the math.)

 With only one day before competition, the Stand cuts took place and poor Sunjai got cut.

Again.

But she was Coolio wid it and even stayed with the Team to continue learning the moves on her own.  Dianna was really impressed that Sunjai stuck around, even though there was clearly no way for her to get out anyway since the doors were still locked.

Outside, the Mamas returned to check up on progress after the Lock-In.

Their girls were looking good.  And so was Seloncé, who took full advantage of the Dance Factory‘s free overnight babysitting service and spent the entire Sunjai-free day whipping herself into a Day Spa frenzy.

Facial:  Check!  Mani:  Check!  Pedi:  Check!  You Just Stay Cute:  Check!

Finally, it was Showtime.

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Two shows, actually, if you count Selonceé in her full-on Salute to Burlesque ensemble.  Mama was representing her baby girl by working a pair of long black All That Jazz gloves, a flower in hair and a bustier that kept popping open.

John Connor, Coach for the Dynamic Diamond Dollz, arrived in his white polo and khakis, looking exactly like one of the sales guys who works at whatever store it is where they all wear white polos and khakis.  I forget.

I know it’s not Target, because they have red polos.  And Best Buy has blue polos.  And a place up in Maine has yellow ones with a lobster wearing a raincoat on it.

Whatever.  He looked like he works at the White Polo Store.

Jamar, the Host of this shindig, was another Boyz II Men look-a-like who held out the last syllable of every team like the guy used to do on Toddlers & Tiaras.

In our Burlesque Outfit of Choice:  The Dancing Doooollllllllllls and MaKenzzzziiiiiiieeeee.

(That’s two T&T flashbacks, if you’re keeping track.)

The Dollz (…with a ‘Z‘…) hit the floor first for Burlesque.  There were only five of them dancing around and one was holding a Ben and Jerry‘s ice cream cone that later turned out to just be a toy microphone.  I guess she was channeling Christina Aguilera or something.  It was screwy.

By the time all 72 Dolls (…with an ‘S‘…) stormed the spotlight, nobody even remembered the other routine.  They killed it.  There was even a part where they were all on the floor in a circle and then one by one they all rolled and whipped their hair like synchronized swimmers would do if their pool caps popped off during a Vegas casino show.

It was Miss D’s favorite part and it kind of made her get all jiggly like you do when the steakhouse waitress brings over your meal and tells you that they upgraded it to a better cut of beef for free because they dropped your first order on the kitchen floor.

The Stand Battle is where it got Buck(ing) Wild.

The Dynamic Diamond Dollz came out with a handful of those generic Barbies they sell at the Dollar Store and proceeded to pop off all the heads like they were killing real the real Dolls.  One by one by one by one.

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Except that, according to their track jackets, they’re also real Dollz themselves.  Just with a different last letter on the embroidery.  So it didn’t really make much sense if you thought about it for too long.

The second Dynamic Diamond Dollz Stand was equally as much of a head scratcher.  Or more of an eye scratcher and hair puller, if you really want to get technical.

They do like their props.  And this time it was some kind of a staged girl fight where they all ended up dancing with straggly pieces of weaves and clumps of white fabric that looked like diapers all over the floor.  Not sure what that was all about.

But whatever it was, it must have inspired some dude in the audience, because all of the sudden a real fight broke out.

I swear.  I never left the room.  I never changed channels.  I was looking directly at my television.  But I still have no idea what happened.

Or how it happened.  Or who started it.  Or what it was about.

Or why that one Dollz (…with a ‘Z‘…) chick in the blue pants just stood there with her back to all the dramzzz (…with 3 ‘Zs‘…) the entire time.

F’realz.  She never moved.  Go check your DVR.  Even when Tina and Dianna and Mimi all pressed themselves together like a sandwich and got their freak on, this little chick was just standing their like she was waiting for the 39 bus.

Needless to say, Jamar called off the event and sent everyone home.

It was bad for the Dolls.  But probably worse for the Tennessee Department of Tourism, because I swear every time someone goes to Memphis they get rolled in a parking lot.

I’ll pass, thank you.

Kayla rose to the occasion and corralled all the Dolls into a back room to catch their breath.  Kayla to the rescue.

As always, Dianna turned yet another mess in Memphis into a Teaching Moment about facing adversity and accepting challenges.  Her girls are better than this.  Way better.

Locked-In or Turnt Up.

They’re the Dancing Dolls.

DD4L.

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Bring It!: Put On Your Battle Camo And Get Ready To Rumble. We’re Twerkin’ In Memphis…And It’s Ridikilous.

Saturday, March 15th, 2014

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No. Really. Close your eyes. It sounds exactly like Beyoncé is here singing on the damn sidewalk.

 

 

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Beyoncé? If you like it then you shoulda put some brains in it, maybe. That bitch is straight up crazy.

 

 

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It’s time to yank it. And jerk it. Werk it and twerk it. And then spank it like a baby ’till it cries.

 

 

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Take these five and the finger I’m about to give you and it will all add up to six judges, trust me.

 

 

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Ridikilous.

 

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When it comes to my kids, I will put on a wig just so I can snatch it off and beat you with it.

 

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Close yo’ legs in the gymnasium. People eat hot dogs and Slim Jims in there. That s*** nasty.

 

 

 

Well, ok.

I guess maybe I have room in my busy schedule for one more Guilty Pleasure.

Because Bring It! just brung it again this week.  And I couldn’t look away.

I could have probably walked away if I wanted to, I suppose.  Maybe even gotten out of my pajamas, jumped on the subway and headed downtown for a nightcap.  But I’m pretty sure I would have still been able to hear them no matter where I was, so I decided to just stay on the couch with my snacks and let Dianna Williams and the DDPs show me how they do down in Jackson, Mississippi.

Cuz they do.  And they did.

Now that we’re all past the awkward introductions and First Date jitters, Dianna and the Dancing Dolls could get right down to bidnezz at the Dollhouse as soon as the credits jelly rolled across the screen.  They were two days out from the next competition and it was a going to be a Big One.  Really Big.

Memphis, Tennessee.  Hostile Enemy Territory.  Just like it says on Google Maps.

As the Dolls stretched it out on the floor, the front door busted open and the party started.

It’s Rittany, Bitch.

Can we just talk about how much we love Crystianna‘s Mom before we even go any further?  With her red polo shirt and matching red knit snood like the Dance Moms kids wore a few seasons ago?  And all that red hair?  From the neck up she actually disappeared like some kind of optical illusion when she walked in front of that giant red stripe on the back wall.

And speaking of.  I still swear this place is a Target that Dianna breaks into through the loading dock after the store is closed every night.  Or maybe she knows someone who hooked her up with a key.  I dunno.  But either way, I’m already starting to think the real reason the Moms have to stay outside is to collect all the runaway shopping carts that people didn’t return to the front door during the day.

But it’s all good.  Because I freakin’ love all these Moms.  And Target, of course.

Rittany was still holding a grudge over last week’s confrontation with Dianna, but wanted to be the bigger plus-size woman and apologize.  Which would have been great if she had remembered to dial it down a notch or ten before getting up in Dianna’s face all over again.  But she din’t.  OhNoSheDin’t.

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Please tell me that there’s some kind of Learning Annex workshop available where people can learn to talk and act more like Rittany.  Because I will pay good money.

Rent money, if I have to.  Which would be ridikilous.  But, chile…I’d dew it.

Dianna tried to explain that there are rules in place to prevent people from driving their cars on the sidewalk and punching out people who wear white after Labor Day, but Rittany wasn’t buying it.  So they basically got nowhere on that one.  Girl, bye.

Outside, Selena/Beyoncé had arrived with Sunjai and was trying to have a motivational Mother/Daughter Moment after having been cut from the competition team last week.  Mom was all like “You need to do this and you need to do that” and Sunjai was all like “Shut up and stop living your life vicariously through me, Mom” before she scooted inside to be with her sane friends.

As soon as Selena mentioned that she used to dance herself back in the day, I got an acid flashback to that Toddlers & Tiaras episode when a Pageant Mom ripped the crown right off her own baby’s head and wore it in front of the cameras while walking aimlessly in a circle applying messy lipstick and rambling something about still being pretty.

Yeah.  That was pretty much all I need to know about this situation, thank you.

But I love Selena.  And Beyoncé.  So she’s got kind of a Win/Win situation going on there as far as I’m concerned.  Like a Payless BOGO sale. Two for the price of one almost.

Inside, Dianna was bracing the Dolls for this week’s competition, where they would be coming face to face with their arch enemies the Prancing Tigerettes.

The Dynamic Diamond Dolls would also be there.  As would the Dancing Cloverleafs, the Golden High Steppers, the Divas Of Olive Branch, the Flying Monkeys Of Oz and the Girls Who Will Never Hold Onto A Man.

Glad to see that the old Toddlers & Tiaras Name-Generating-Machine hasn’t gone to waste since that TLC show was cancelled.  I was exhausted before rehearsals even started.  That’s a lot of teams, even if I may (…allegedly…) have made up one or two of those ridikilous names.

(See?  It doesn’t even sound right when I type it.  I really need that Rittany class asap.)

But nobody wins without practicing, so the Dolls hit the rehearsal floor and the Moms hit each other.  Almost.

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I don’t even know how it started.  And I was sitting right there watching.  I swear.  I didn’t even look away for a second.  But somehow, all of the sudden, Rittany and Seloncé were all up in each other’s grill and the next thing I knew Rittany was telling all of America that their weaves both came from hair yanked out of the a** of a Central Park horse.

I know, right?  But apparently Seloncé pays more for her butt hair, because Rittany’s money all goes to fast food.  Something about plus-size ladies being all the rage in 2014, thanks to Jennifer Hudson and American Idol.  Except that nobody watches that show anymore and Jennifer’s skinny now.  So who knows where she was going with that.

I couldn’t keep up.  Didn’t even try.  But I love them both.  And I love Jennifer Hudson.

And I really…really…thank JH for giving me loud and proud Thick Girls.  I just don’t like all the extra sodium in Weight Watchers frozen lasagna.

For the second week in a row, the award for Wearing A Wig That Can Be Seen From The International Space Station went to my new TV girlfriend, Tina.  I used up all my good Ronald McDonald jokes last week, so I’ll just mention that her hair is the same color that scores you the most points in a paintball tournament and move on.

Love her.  Paintball?  Not so much.

Back inside, Dianna brought out the Clipboard of Cuts and started weed whacking the field down to a manageable number.  First to go was Sunjai.  Again.

She cut my baby!  She cut my baby!

Also in her radar was Crystianna, who was dragging behind a little bit.  But Dianna only pushes the girls hard to make them better.  That’s still the heart of the show.  The Moms just don’t see it that way most of the time.

Or ever.  Which was clearly the case as Rittany blew back in through the front door for Round #2.  Imma ’bout to handle her like a stranger!

I swear, if Maya Angelou doesn’t publish a book of inspirational Bring It! quotes for this holiday season, there’s something wrong with the world.

Remember all those rules that we mentioned earlier?  I know there’s also the one about not touching a black girl’s hair.  Trust me.  I learned that the hard way.

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But I guess now there’s also a new one about not pushing her face like you’re high-fivin’ a basketball team after they win Nationals.

Because that’s exactly what Rittany did to Dianna, right before Miss D shoved Rittany and her snood right back outside.  And then they both got all VH1 up in each other’s grill on the sidewalk until Dianna realized that going to jail would pretty much make this a one season show.

As Rittany and Crystianna climbed inside their car to head home, my girl Tina was still doing her Street Fight Dance.  Whenever I see her getting all hyper it reminds me of those news stories about people walking their dogs and then stepping on an electrified manhole cover.  Gurrrl.  Arms and legs were flying e’rywhere.

Amidst all the chaos, we got a real tender moment between Rittany and Crystianna.  Turns out that Rittany is actually the Auntie, not the Mom.  But I’m too lazy to scroll back up and re-type everything and Real Moms are the ones who love you, whether they have stretch marks or not.  Rittany cried.  Crystianna cried.  And the heart of the show came through again.

It’s all for the kids.  Memorize it.

And speaking of Gladys Kravitz.  Cuz we were, right?  Turns out that Mimi is the town snoop.  Who knew?  She’s the lady who gets up from the dinner table every time she hears a car go by to see who is in the neighborhood.  The lady who knows everything that is going on.  The lady who is all up in everybody else’s shiz.  The lady who keeps Miss D in da loop.  Stay tuned for how this one rolls out.

For the first time we also got a glimpse of Dianna’s home life as she made a call to Rittany on the thickest, most blinged out iPhone evah to try and smooth out their relationship.

We got to meet Miss D’s man Robert, finally got a name for that fuzzy haired little boy Cobe and saw a photo of Dianna with one up leg in the air hanging on the wall.

I didn’t ask.

The next morning we also took a nice walk past 127 porta potties on the way to school with Crystianna and her BFF Camryn as they discussed their My Little Pony collections and how Rittany had lost her nutty on Miss D.  The conversation was typical little kid stuff, which was cute to see.  One of them was even wearing purple UGG boots, which for some reason reminded them both of The Color Purple.

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Random.  But so were the porta potties.

I’m also not sure how little girls can even keep their heads up with the size of those cheer hair bows nowadays.  But I’m not in the elite world of hip hop majorette business, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.

With one day to go before the competition, Rittany and Crystianna returned.  Everyone was happy and they put the finishing touches on their performance pieces.

Dianna tried to explain the rules for this event, but you either needed a NASA degree or membership in Mensa to know what she was talking about.  So.  Many.  Rules.

I went downstairs, threw another load of laundry in the machine, came back up, brushed my teeth, flossed and when I sat back down she was still explaining what would be happening.

Fast songs.  Slow songs.  Medium songs.  Random songs.  Field Dances that didn’t count.  Stand Battles that counted for the whole score.

Just call me when the Dolls are ready to rumble.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Quincy, who was not only the coach for the Prancing Tigerettes but also the Love Child of Pee Wee Herman and the fat guy from Boyz II Men, met the Dolls as they entered the venue.  I liked him.  His glasses were ginormous.

Vern, the competition’s organizer, already seemed to not be living up to her title before the show even got started.  I just had a bad feeling.

My girlfriend Tina showed up in head to toe camo.  This bitch was going to War.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Clearly, there is nothing cuter in this world than the Baby Dancing Dolls.  Honestly, I don’t know what they do, or if they even do anything.  Maybe they just dress them up and then let them all play in the back until the show is over.  I dunno.  I don’t care.  It doesn’t even matter, because those little niblets are so cute I just wanted to slap somebody for not telling me about them sooner.

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The Main Event was a Stand Battle.  That’s the one where the two teams get all OhHellNo in each other’s face.  There were (6) teams and each one got to bring a judge.  My highly tuned ADD senses were quick to notice SEVEN (7) people sitting at the table as my eyeballs rolled all over the place, even though #7 was clearly trying to blend in by wearing the same color as the bunting on the front of the card table.

Busted.

First Round:  The Dolls went up against the Divas From Olive Branch, who came out looking like hoochie choir girls, tossed their robes aside and then proceeded to spread it like PB & J all over the floor.  I think ‘Strip Club’ is the term that somebody used.

Dianna flipped.  The DDPs flipped.  And then the judges flipped.

They flipped over poster board signs that looked like the cards you used to see on the old Newlywed Game and it was a TIE!  Until that 7th judge had to go and f*** it all up for the Dolls by giving the win to the Olive Branches.

Boom goes the Dianna-mite!

Miss D put Rittany to shame and showed her how you REALLY lose your nutty.  Vern tried to say that she announced the 7th judge at the start.  Which she din’t, mmmkay?

Dianna had to be held back a few times.  Vern went scrambling back to the mic to cover her own PB & J.  Quincy even got so wound up that his shirt came untucked.

Hold me back!  Hold me back!  You don’t mess with my kids!

It was straight up Jerry Springer in the gymnasium.  Everyone was pushing and holding back everyone else.  Screaming and swearing and Don’t Make Me Take My Shoes Off.  If the benches hadn’t been screwed down they probably would have thrown them like folding chairs after a DNA test.  I never seen nuthin so cray.

I also never seen so many people taking pictures with iPads.  You got a phone in your purse.  What the hell?

And then it was over.  The Dolls were done before they even got started.  They had nothing to do for the rest of the day except cry.  But Dianna wasn’t having it and turned the whole fiasco into a teaching moment.

A loud one.  But still a teaching moment.

Turn them tears into anger.  Starting tomorrow…we don’t lose no mo’.

Seven judges?

Ridikilous.

dd


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