DanThat'sCool!

 

 

You’re all just bitter, toxic a** woman that don’t even deserve to see my backside tattoo, mmmkay?

 

 

 

 

Oh. My. Gawd. I can’t even stop looking at the front ones and now there’s a back one? I love dat bitch.

 

 

 

 

Not now, girl. Bite your tongue. I swear, you mention that doctorate in front of her again and I will slap you myself on national television.

 

 

 

And for the last time…it’s not Barbie. It’s Skipper, Barbie’s prettier and much younger sister.

 

 

 

 

 

I think the biggest piece of jerky I ever brought home was about this long.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh. Hell. Yeah. I gotta get my shizzle on up to Canton.

 

 

 

Move over NeNe Leakes and let Kaya show you how it’s done.

It was Round Two for the Dance Moms Reunion Show this week, and like any good Real Housewives knock-off, everybody knows the good stuff always comes in the second half.

My new favorite Andy Cohen stand-in, Jeff Collins, was still front and center clutching his bootleg Bravo TV flashcards, completely surrounded by the full Mom Platoon.

Seated together in what was either somebody’s living room or the front of a suburban Home Goods store (…Seriously.  Pause your DVR and count all the accessories…) everyone was getting used to the format and getting ready to unleash some serious Reunion Part Two ‘tude.

You knew it was going to get good because they were already playing Survivor music before the introductions.  Survivor music always means something is about to go down.

Or that somebody is just about to eat something gross.

And since I’m pretty sure no one on Lifetime would eat bug larvae, it was a safe bet that Kaya was probably out back scratching on the inside of a locked Green Room door.

Jeff started right in on Chaos Cathy Nesbitt and the infamous Mom Dance.  Just as terrifying and definitely more ill-fitting than Mom Jeans, the Mom Dance will forever go down in Reality TV history.

For whatever reason, somebody had thought it would be a good idea to shove Melissa, Kelly and Christi out on stage as backup dancers for Cathy’s impromptu, spotlight hogging, loosely choreographed dancing seizure, but neglected to actually teach them how to dance prior to the curtain being raised.  The result was three Moms standing around like they were waiting for their carpool while Cathy showed everyone in the audience what Peter Pan might look like on Broadway if a tech guy forgot to strap on the flying harness before showtime.  It was Spaztastic.

To paraphrase the Dark Lord…This is your Destiny, young Vivi-Anne.

It was like one of those “25 Years of Dance” things on youtube, but with the kind of sparkly, oddly age inappropriate Mom outfits that you always see drunk women wearing in Ramada lounges.

Cathy supported her decision to steamroll over the other Moms due to their lack of rhythm and inner ear balance, while Abby chastised her for not making it a full blown Carol Burnett sketch.

When Abby actually went so far as to suggest that Cathy should have turned them all into floor mopping maids, Holly had the first of her many WhatchooTalkinBoutWillis faces.  Dr. Holly don’t do Maids, thank you.

Holly’s seemingly endless facial expressions were my drinking game of choice during this episode.  Love her.

After visually confirming that he was a safe distance from Cathy in case she rabidly lunged for a neck vein, Jeff actually had the kahunas to ask her if she felt that Abby and the ALDC were better than the Candy Apples dancers.  Oh oh, SpaghettiOs.

I’ve got to assume that there were either people stationed off-camera with stun guns or the dude’s got some major kahunas, because I think I would have skipped that card and moved on to the next question.

But he went there, causing Cathy to squirm around for a few seconds as though she was sitting on some of that world famous Jerky King product, before finally admitting that Abby’s girls had Star Quality.  If Abby had not been weighed down by 75 pounds of silver costume jewelry and 40+ years of bad life choices, you know she would have totally done the Pee Wee Dance right there on that Home Goods table.

Quickly wanting to shift the focus back to how great everything is in Candy Apples Land, Cathy lit into Jill for being a studio hopper and an all around crazy bitch.

After pointing out Jill’s penchant for disguising blatant bribery with Hallmark gift tags and big colorful bows, Cathy even managed to sneak in a slam at Jill’s new, and still not quite under control Barbie coiffure, which kind of offended Kelly, because she likes being the one with crazy hair.

Moving on, Jeff wanted to get to the root of the whole Abby vs. Kelly conflict.  Why do they fight so much?  Given their history (…Kelly started with Abby at 2 1/2 years old…) wassup wid all dis tension?  Inquiring minds want to know.

Ok.  Let’s just break this thing down.

You know how when you try to picture someone when they were much younger, like all the way back in junior high school or earlier, but all you have to really reference them is nowadays?  So you just picture them as they are now, but wearing Brady Bunch clothes instead?

Yeah.  I did that.  And it wasn’t pretty.

When Kelly claimed that back in ancient history Abby had liked a boy who liked Kelly instead…well…whoa.  Flashback music, please.

I pictured the cafetorium dances, the fights by the lockers and young Kelly holding hands with some football jock every time they passed a giant Baby Abby in the hallway before Study Hall.

Baby Abby.  Baby Huey.  Whatevs.  Just stick a headband on it and you know what I’m talking about.  I totally made up the last 40 years of Dance Moms history and it was brilliant.  Someday I may even share it with all of you.

Abby denied the love triangle and blamed it all on Kelly’s parents not pushing her to be anything more than mediocre, which appeared to have been passed down through the genetic DNA chain into Kelly’s bloodstream, resulting in her own children just coasting through life.

Then it was 5 minutes of seeing how many ways they could both use the words “Encouragement” and “Click” in a sentence before Jeff lost interest.

Brooke may or may not want to dance anymore.  Paige is ok with being just ok.  Or is she?  Or does she?  And what’s with Paige’s hair?  Don’t make me keep asking.  And why does Kelly feel that being just ok is ok enough?

Jeff didn’t really solve anything, but it gave Abby and Kelly plenty of time to scream and bitch and talk over each other while Holly made some delightful faces.  (Watch out Christi…The Doctor is moving in on your turf.)

Abby made sure to sneak in a few drinking in the parking lot jabs at Kelly’s expense, while Kelly compared Abby’s world to the Mob where you can’t ever seem to get out and stay out.

And then in this Ring, we have Melissa vs. Christi.

Turned out that they also have a history.  But the Melissa/Christi backstory is apparently sealed in a government file somewhere with strict stipulations that they never discuss it in public.

Gah.  That drives me boinkers.

How much did you hate that kid in school who said he had a secret, but couldn’t tell you.

Seriously.  Then why freakin’ bring it up?  Just to make me insane?

They both confirmed that their animosity stemmed from years and years ago, and that they had both “done things” to each other.  What does that even mean?

I swear Mr. Collins, if there is not a Dance Moms prequel by next fall I’m sending Kaya after your scent.  Look at how successful the Wolverine X-Men movie was in theaters.

And speaking of Kaya picking up your scent…

Black Patsy was in the hizzle.

The poor man’s NeNe stormed the set decked out in Sassy Mall animal print, complete with that black rose from Claire’s still in her hair and a coordinating F*** you up attitude.

I need to rewind to verify, but I’m pretty certain Kaya started in on everyone before her junk even hit the guest chair.

With a slowly sinking Cathy looking like a hostage trapped between Holly and Kaya, the whole Women of Color thing started up again and it was Classic Housewives.  It was like I sat on my remote and it just kept flipping from Bravo to VH1 to Animal Planet over and over and over again until I figured out what was happening.

Kaya called out everyone as Haters.  She had heard all the whispers.  The whole baby at 16 gossip.  The lesbian gossip.  You’re a bitch.  And you’re a bitch.  You’re all bitches!

Bitter, toxic a** bitches!

It was Oprah from the ‘hood.

And where exactly IS this ‘hood that everyone keeps screaming about?  Everyone is always swearing they’re from the ‘hood, or taking you to the ‘hood to mess you up, or going to the ‘hood and never being heard from again.  Where is it?  I put it in my GPS and it didn’t take me anywhere.  This might require some more research.

Roadtrip anyone?  I’ll buy the snacks.

With a little trickle of sweat running down the back of his sportcoat, Jeff explained that he would never dream of calling Kaya “Black Patsy” even though she seemed to be down wid it.

“Crazy A** Lady with the Boob Tattoo” maybe, but never ”Black Patsy”.  That ain’t right.

Kaya proudly stated she would throw down anywhere, anytime if the situation required some fist to face action, which caused Jeff to scoot his chair back a little bit and Abby to spin her Ninja Star ring around a few times.  Christi was singled out amongst all the Moms as being the most fake by Kaya, and then their whole You’re a Bitch OhHellNo You’re a Bitch confrontation was replayed about 10 times.

Or maybe they were all different scenes.  It was hard to tell.  Kaya was poppin’ off in all of them and I didn’t have a pen to keep track.  Girlfriend will cut you.  That much I figured out on my own.

She tried again to rally Holly to the Cause, which forced Holly to once again explain the difference between a Get Out Of Jail card and a Pass and…well…you knew where this one was going.  Kaya felt betrayed by her Sister Holly and the whole Women of Color thing.  Again.

Jill jumped onto the pig pile and didn’t quite know how to respond when Kaya complimented her on having a nice bedonkadonk.  For a white girl, anyway.

It got weird.

When Jill claimed that they were not even sure if lesbianism was legit (…in Kaya’s case, not as a Lifestyle.  Duh.  No hate mail, please.  Read before you React…) Kaya pointed out that her lover’s name or face or something was tattooed back there somewhere if anyone was interested in solving the mystery.

Thanks, but I’ll take one of Holly’s passes right about now.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love me some Kaya.  Crazier the better.  But seeing her get all head bobbly in a room full of Dance Moms almost felt like she had walked into the wrong studio.  Where my girls at?

Before Kaya headed off stage to to decompress and slap a few camera guys, Jeff allowed her to go around the room one by one, picking off Moms like she was skeet shooting at a street fair.

She thought Cathy was a blast, and that Kelly was White Patsy.  Yeah.  She said that.

Between Kaya telling Holly to embrace her ethnicity and getting all up in Christi’s face again, I think Jeff may have regretted giving her that one last opportunity to let loose.  It was definitely good for ratings, but not so much for anyone who had to walk alone through the parking lot after taping was over.

Don’t axe me why he did that.  Really.  Don’t axe.

(And don’t get me started on that linguistic pet peeve.  Trust me.  You do NOT want my opinion on that one.)

We finished off with some low key, warm & fuzzy family time.

All the kids joined the Moms in a tight squeeze couch moment to relive the last two seasons and let us in on what their goals were for the future.  Even googly Vivi-Anne was there, though she basically just sat around wondering why no one had picked her up and carried her off set yet.

I swear that kid must sleep in sparkly eye liner.

All the girls got giggly stage fright when Fake Andy spun the cameras and the questions in their direction.  It was cute, and a reminder that they really are just kids who like to dance.

Maddie got all red faced when boys were brought up, and MackAttack almost swallowed her gum she was so shy.

Diva Nia had some monster Lion King hair going on that almost covered up Holly’s face, and I swear Chloe grew another inch during the last scene.  Check it out in slow mo.

Brooke and Paige are still in limbo for next year (…as if…) until Kelly decides their fate.

Kendall had a really smart answer to Jeff’s question regarding who she would love to dance with…dead or alive.  Michael Jackson.  Good call.  Mom was impressed.

Vivi-Anne…well…just Vivi-Anne.  It is what it is.

And then it was over.

No more Dance Moms for now.  And Dance Moms: Miami isn’t coming back.

I’m not sure I’m going to make it until the Pageant Moms return, because it hasn’t even been 12 hours and I’m already having Crazy Mom withdrawal.

I need my cray cray.

Don’t axe me why.  I just do.

 

 

I saw on Bravo TV that when you tilt your head back like this a guy pours a shot in your mouth.

 

 

 

 

One flick of my finger and you’ve got an acrylic nail and a Ninja Star in your artery, bitch.

 

 

 

 

 

Well, of course if I’d known they’d be shooting from this angle I would have combed the back of my hair. Absolutely.

 

 

 

 

Lawd. I feel it! I feel the Craziness all up in here! It’s speaking to me and my ladies! And it’s saying…LaQuifa Whaaat?

 

 

 

Hey. Professor. If you can get that chocolate in here from the other end of the couch, Nia gets a week of free privates.

 

 

 

 

Seriously. We’ve been Besties for like 100 years and I still have no f***ing clue what’s up with that hair. Not a clue.

 

 

 

Pardon me.  Andy Cohen?

Would you mind just scooting down a little bit?  Just a tiny snudge?

Jeff Collins needs that chair for a few hours if it’s ok.

This was the week it all happened.  Dance Moms officially got the Stamp of Approval from the Sisterhood of Reality Television Shows.

The Moms got a Reunion Special.

Two of them actually.  Part One and Part Two, which means they’ve finally made it into the Big Time and can now join the ranks of every Real Housewives Bitch Fest season ending spectacular that has gone before them.

Because that’s when you know you’ve made it, when you finally get a set of hot rollers and your own Reunion Show.

(Seriously…did you see Abby’s hair the first season?  Come on.  Money talks.)

Think New York.  Or the OC.  Or Atlanta, with less leg oil.

And if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.  Just plop down two couches with a chair or two in the middle, print up a couple dozen Twitter question 3 x 5′s and let the hilarity ensue.

Playing the role of Andy Cohen this week we had the really nice and smiley Mr. Collins, who is basically the President, Executive Producer, Master Mind Genius and Mad Scientist of the production company responsible for the worldwide Dance Moms infestation.  His company has a few other good shows out there on the airwaves, but Dance Moms is what put them on the Pinterest map and I’ll bet good money he was kissing all those Crazies on the lips during the first commercial break.

He didn’t waste anytime getting right down to bidnezz with the Moms, after introducing the Woman of the Hour.  Abby Lee Miller, snuggled right up next to Jeff and what appeared to be a half empty candy dish, was ready to get this show on the road with the first video montage.

Wearing every piece of silver jewelry shown on the first 10 pages of the Pandora Fall 2012 catalog, Abby was definitely ready for her HD closeup because that Bitch was blingin’.  Weighed down with bracelets and wrist cuffs and a necklace big and dangly enough to deflect gunfire, as well as a Ninja Star ring that I swore was going to fly off and slit Jeff’s throat before the hour was over, Abby was in her element.

After a mash-up of clips highlighting the evolution of Abby’s stylish new Dance Judge hairdo, Jeff tossed the ball to the ladies.

Can I just say that Holly has some amazing posture before we even get to the good stuff?  Her spinal x-ray must look like a piece of Home Depot 2 by 4.

Now I don’t know if she was the only one propped up by pillows or what, but when you saw her sitting there so prim and principally proper it made the other Moms look like they were at a Frat party.

Don’t get me wrong.  Nobody else was slouching.  But kudos to Mrs. Frazier for showing the rest of us at home that it’s actually possible to be on a couch and not get Cheeto’s crumbs on your belly.  I was almost inspired to sit up.

Almost.

After a quick discussion on Abby’s message vs. Abby’s delivery of that message, Jeff moved on to the Most Outrageous Mom category, which Kelly won before I had even completely filled out my voting ballot.

Cue the Kelly Meltdown Montage.

Seriously.  I can’t imagine that finding those clips was much work.  I mean, really.  The guy in the editing booth could probably have just closed his eyes, spun around, randomly hit the pause button and landed on a Kelly Meltdown.

We love her.  She’s cray cray.  Almost the bad kind of cray cray…but just this side of the good kind of cray cray.  So we love her.

And Christi loves her.  Hearing Mr. Collins call Christi and Kelly “Besties” sounded a little odd, which was probably due to the fact that he’s a grown a** man using the word “Besties.”  I’m almost positive that word has a shelf life that expires before you reach your sophomore year in high school.

Dude.  Do NOT type “Besties” on your Blackberry.  Ever.

As a Bestie, I did however wonder why over the years Christi had never asked Kelly what the F*** was going on with that hair cut.  I mean, she’s got that one long piece that is probably supposed to be there, but I personally know two people who got kicked out of Beauty School for leaving a straggler like that behind someone’s ear.  Go figure.

Next they moved on to the Pyramid of Shame and why the whole process was even necessary, which smoothly segued into why Maddie was almost always at the top and the whole favoritism song and dance number.

After a quick video recap showing Abby tearing off about 72 cover sheets and revealing Maddie’s endearingly toothy grin, it was the same old conversation that the Moms had every week up in the MomPerch.  The only difference this time around was that we got to see Melissa‘s nervous foot twitch as everyone circled their prey.  It was the same twitch that happens under a desk when a kid is afraid that the teacher is going to call on them for an answer when they totally forgot to read the book the night before.

That twitch.

By the time they got to a discussion about Abby insisting Maddie bring in her trunk full of competition crowns to rub in the other girls’ faces on that fateful day, I thought Melissa was going to kick her stiletto right out of the camera shot.

Watching the flashback scene with all those crowns laid out on a table like an old drag queen’s estate sale made me realize that the first time around I had totally missed Diva Nia‘s OhNoSheDin’t face.

Girlfriend was all like Oh.  Hell.  No. with these crowns, bitch.

Love me some Nia.

Next, since there was a seemingly endless supply of Kelly Meltdown tapes, we got another montage.  This time with Abby as her evil nemesis.

We saw the infamous un-stoppered chair toss across the ALDC studio floor and the blurred out Kelly bird flip, and then the two of them went at it across the couch over the original 10pm request for rubber chair nips that started the whole fiasco.  Kelly tried to explain that she had made the decision to stay home that evening and introduce herself to that third kid who always seems to be there when she brings Paige and Brooke home from rehearsals instead of plugging ‘chair stoppers’ into her GPS.

As cray cray as Kelly is, I gotta stand with her on this one.  Personally, I would not even know where to begin looking for chair stoppers at 10pm on a weeknight.  I’m going to assume that all the rubber stopper stores are closed by 9pm, if not earlier.

And bottom line, how bad are your chairs…and how sad is your life…that you need to leave the house at 10pm for a rubber stopper run anyway?

Kelly has still not decided whether or not she will be returning next season.

Umm.  Yeah. Anyone want to place bets on that one?  I’m feeling pretty confident about going forward with my new line of Kelly’s Krazy: Season 3 tee shirts.  Especially after we relived the day when Kelly called Abby fat.  And a whore.  A fat whore.  And still managed to slurp down her Starbucks without skipping a beat.

She’s a keeper.  She ain’t going anywhere.

Somehow that all turned into a throw down over the competition when Maddie’s CD skipped and whether or not the whole thing had been pre-planned.

Kelly swore that Melissa knew in advance that it was going to happen, which in the world of The Dance automatically gives you First Place somehow.

First Place?  Like with a crown?  If that is really the deal, I can’t believe that every week somebody’s CD isn’t scratched.

Think about it.  If I could be guaranteed a first place trophy and a chance to snag some headgear off Maddie’s table, I would be in the park with a puppy tossing CD frisbees while everyone else was back at the studio doing hamstring stretches.  I’m no fool.

Kelly swore on her kids it was gospel.  Melissa swore on her Mother’s grave.  Abby swore the chocolate had nuts in it and tried another piece before Jeff took the whole bowl away and slapped her hand.

We then had a few minutes of Abby accusing Christi of using her daughter Chloe as her ticket out of the ghetto, since Mom had never had the opportunity to dance and be a star when she a youngster.  Christi got all Proud Mom face as she discussed Chloe and the rarely seen baby nugget known as Clara.  The little tyke was a cutie, with a head like a dandelion right before the wind blows all that fuzz in your eyes.

And speaking of ghetto…

The whole LaQuifa Whaaaat? issue was brought up again.

That’s the issue where Abby kept pushing Nia into ethnic roles and ethnic dances and ethnic outfits and ethnic afro wigs in a completely none-PC attempt to immerse her in the 1970′s sitcom roles that she felt Nia was destined to be offered out in the real world.

Well, not completely immersed I guess, because you know how LaQuifa hates to get her hair wet.

Oh snap.  Yeah.  It was that inappropriate.

Watching Holly get all non-ethnically ethnic is something I will never get tired of, trust me.  She not only yanked that afro pick out of Nia’ hair, but she pretty much whooped Miss Abby’s butt with it before tossing it out the sunroof of that family minivan with the “I’ve Got a Doctorate and U Don’t” bumper sticker.

Holly don’t play.

And then there was Jill.

The alleged studio hopper made her entrance, all sewn into a pretty tight dress that barely contained any of her Bump-Its, and slowly lowered herself on to the couch with the girls.

Flashback to the now classic cowboy hat/shoe toss in the makeup room, spliced together with that sloppy strip club scene where Jill chewed a $20 bill into hamster cage shavings after pulling it out of a guy’s banana hammock with her front teeth, and you pretty much just summed up Jill Vertes.

Even though she still hadn’t quite gotten her new hair style under control, Jill had no problem laying into Melissa for hiding her engagement to a married man, which in turn got all the Moms going on Mystery Greg‘s Cease and Desist lawyer letter.

Friends don’t sue Friends, mmmkay?

It was a touchy subject and immediately got everyone worked up.  As Melissa did her best Talk to the Hand defensive blocking, it got pretty heated somewhere during the conversation.  But honestly, after somebody reminded us all that Melissa is “cleanly shaved down there” nothing else really mattered except stopping my eyes and ears from bleeding.

Hoping for another Kardashian Moment, Jeff asked Melissa if he could sneak in a camcorder or two during her upcoming nuptuals and almost blacked out when she didn’t immediately say No.  She didn’t say Yes..but at least she didn’t say No.

Part One finished off with the arrival of Chaos Cathy Nesbitt and her not so sugary Candy Apples attitude.

It wasn’t quite NeNe‘s ATL, but Cathy and Christi together still made for some fun television.  Especially when we got to see some never before seen footage of Cathy tossing water at Christi on the sidewalk like a true Real Housewife bitch.

Dance Moms getting down and dirty on the streets?  Sign me up.

Full disclosure: Not going to lie.  I was secretly rooting for somebody to pull on someone’s wig like Sheree Whitfield and Kim Zolciak‘s classic street brawl, but no such luck.  Don’t get me wrong, and don’t judge.  I don’t condone violence, though I do condone hair pulling and face slapping if justified for the storyline or ratings.

You have to draw the line somewhere.

And like any good Housewife Reunion, the really good stuff is in Part Two.

Cathy barely got her engine revved this time around, so according to the previews, next week should be a classic.

And hold up.  Was that sassy Kaya they just showed getting all Miss Thang up in everyone’s face next time?  She’s back?!

Girrrrl, pleez.

I don’t know how Andy Cohen does it.  I’m exhausted.

 

 

Because Abby’s wearing the same color as me. That’s why I’m crying. Just let me die out here by this dumpster.

 

 

 

 

Never changes. Bitches always be hating on the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Always.

 

 

 

 

Hold up. So you’re telling me that on TLC 3 year old Toddlers get bigger Beauty crowns? That’s just F***d up.

 

 

 

Mmmmmm… Pumpkin. I wonder if that Dunkin Donuts muffin is out yet. I do love my muffins.

 

 

 

 

Ssshh. It’s ok. You don’t have a fat head. It really is a little crown. And I’m a model now, so I totally know this kind of stuff.

 

 

 

 

What say we drive down and pick up those Dance Moms: Miami kids? I hear they’re not busy.

 

 

 

Oh snap.

I did not just kick Dance Moms: Miami while they’re down.  And before this post even started?  That ain’t right.

Relax.  I didn’t.  Actually, that was my uniquely subtle approach at hinting to Lifetime TV that they should probably un-cancel the Florida show.

I’m missing Lady Killer Lucas already.  And we all know that Kimmy doesn’t need much time to do all that 4am homework.  So let’s get these kids back to work, mmmkay?

Thank you for your immediate attention to this matter.

Now back to bidnezz.

After a long, drawn out journey that probably fell second only to what those Glee kids put us through every school year, Abby Lee Miller and the ALDC finally made it to the end of what we like to call the Road to Nationals.  It’s kind of like the Yellow Brick Road, but without a Good Witch.

Definitely no Good Witch.

Going on what had to have been week (…or month?…) #3 in California, it was time for the Energy Dance National Competition and Abby was in it to win it.

I’ve got to admit.  I’m in awe at how these Moms and kids can jump ship and leave home for weeks at a time with seemingly no regret or homeland fallout.

Speaking as someone who can’t take a long weekend without returning to at least one dead houseplant, I have no idea how they can just pick up their leopard print suitcases and head out of Dodge for all these extended stays away from friends and family with what appears to be almost no advance planning.

I’m sure that by now they have it all down to a science, but in my head I always picture one of three scenarios.

One.  The front yard is piled high with rolled up newspapers, the mailbox is overflowing with Publisher’s Clearing House “You Just Won!” envelopes because Mom forgot to stop postal deliveries and a burglar is prying the screen off the back door with a tire iron.

Two.  The husbands are having affairs with the housekeepers, because this is Lifetime Network and that’s what husbands always do on Lifetime.  At least if they’re married to Jane Seymour in a two hour movie they do.  Granted, the cheating husband always ends up shot in the face or trapped in a burning house when Mom comes home early, but still.

Three.  The husbands and sons are inside looking like shipwreck survivors wearing the same underwear they had on when Mom first left the house, waiting for her to come home and tell them how to turn on the microwave.

But maybe that’s just me.

Regardless, it was another week in sunny L.A. as they prepped for Nationals in the Land of Brandon, Dylan and Perfect Hair:  90210.

That’s right….Beverly Hills, baby.  Swimming pools.  Movie stars.

But first, the Pyramid of Shame.  ’Cause that’s how Abby rolls, even on the West Coast.

Bottom row was all about Paige, Nia, Chloe and Kendall.

Paige had forgotten a move or two in last week’s dance number, which meant that Abby…well…elephants never forget.  Sorry, Paige.

Nia was great in her 1960′s dance, but didn’t exactly bring home the bacon so Abby stuck her in the basement again.  Chloe had come in 6th, which is 5 below First Place, so you do the Pyramid Math.

And finally, Kendall was on the bottom primarily for the Jill Face.  And it worked.

The middle row was held down by Brooke and little Mackenzie.

Brooke, who was the envy of every woman in Beverly Hills with that line-free, expressionless face of hers was considered second tier because Abby felt she was lazy.  And she needed to fix that face, please.

Go figure.  The only female in Beverly Hills history to ever be chastised for not being able to scrunch her forehead.  I thought that was the ultimate longterm goal out there.

MackAttack was in the middle because even though she does a mean quadruple backflip into a pouty face beach blanket pose, she keeps messing up the easy stuff.

Knock that off, please.

And then Maddie was on the top again.  Go back and read pretty much any review I’ve ever written on this show if you’re really dying to know why she was on the top this week.

Just change the date.

Solos were handed out to Mackadoodle Doo, Maddie and Brooke, with the one remaining open spot split between Nia, Kendall and Chloe.  Anyone want to play Mind Game Auditions?  Hold that thought.

The group number was a disturbing PSA on texting and driving.

Don’t do it.  Just don’t.  Unless you want to get thrown from a car and have Nia perform CPR on your dead body in between high kicks and back bends, that is.

Abby does love those dramatic pieces, and this one really freaked the girls out.  Even Paige, who did nothing but sit perfectly still at the wheel after her head went through an imaginary windshield, was creeped out.

Naturally, Mom Kelly was more concerned with the obvious fact that Paige was barely dancing in a dance competition than she was with any longterm trauma from her daughter having to play a cadaver.  But you know Kelly.  Meltdown in 3…2…1.

Since they apparently don’t do MomPerches in California, everyone has had to resort to random back alleys and porch decks for their weekly gripe sessions.

As they hung out in one of those makeshift locations doing whatever it is that they always do on those freakin’ cell phones, a text was received from Chaos Cathy Nesbitt and her Evil Candy Apples Soccer Moms stating that they would all be coming out for Nationals.  I got all excited.  The Moms?  Not so much.

LOL.  Smiley Sideways Kitty Face.

The thought of having to deal with Cathy, compounded with watching her daughter sit and collect dust while all the other girls actually danced, finally cracked Kelly’s egg shell.

After confronting Abby in regards to Paige sitting perfectly still for the entire number like a Crash Test Dummy (…and not the cool talking ones on the commercial…) the whole conversation got ugly, culminating in Abby suggesting that Kelly might want to get Paige to a pediatrician asap to see if there was a cure for her daughter’s stupidity.

Nice talk, which resulted in Kelly dramatically exiting, stage left.  Forever.  Again.

When the rest of the Moms finally tracked her down, Kelly was outside behind a dumpster crying like she had just lost her last noodle.  After a little Mom bonding, Kelly managed to get her shizzle together and then took Paige off for a pre-arranged photo shoot.

Not gonna lie.  When Kelly and Paige first arrived at the photographer’s studio and the only caption under the dude’s face was “Photographer,” I was pretty much expecting an abduction or some borderline soft porn.  But the joint seemed legit and they gussied Paige up into a 1940′s screen siren in no time.

All that age inappropriate hair finally paid off, because she looked a-maz-ing by the time they finished the shoot.  Twenty years older, but a-maz-ing nonetheless.

The following day, Kelly returned to practice.  Again.  If you ask me, Girlfriend might be losing some of her dramatic exit credibility.

Somewhere in the middle of all this activity, Christi and Jill had taken over the role of dance coach and helped run their daughters’ solos.  Christi got a little frustrated with Chloe, and Jill had some trouble with her bra straps.  Feel free to tuck those things back in under your sleeveless top, honey.  Sooner the better.

To continue this week’s Cryapalooza, it was then time to choose the final soloist.  Having the three Moms of the three contestants as judges didn’t exactly make for much drama or resolution (…ummm…if my Mom didn’t pick me in a contest I would be some bulls***…) so Abby had Melissa break the three way tie.

Drama.  Crying.  Chloe got the last solo spot.  Drama.  Crying.  Kendall didn’t.  Jill meltdown in 3…2…1.

Finally it was Showtime!

As the ALDC troupe was rehearsing and crying and hating on Abby, the Candy Apples gang rolled into town and made their entrance like Super Bowl champs coming up that ramp from the locker rooms.

My favorite bad a** red-haired Mom was there, all tattooed, chewing on her gum and looking for a rumble.  Love her.  That bitch will cut your face off with her acrylics if she has to.

And though I swore all along, with no proof other than that blinding Clairol-assisted red hair, that she had to be scruffy Justice‘s Mom, the DNA results were finally revealed and she was indeed the Mom.  And her name is Tanya, like a female wrestler.

The only Mom conspicuously MIA was that big Walmart one we saw the last time we visited Ohio.  She’s my second favorite Ohio export, so I was secretly bummed that she apparently didn’t like to fly.

One half of the Fabulous M&M choreography team was also part of M’Lady Cathy’s Court this week.  Plain or Peanut?  You decide.

Our boy Mitchell was there, all fabulous and styling in his relaxed fit fancy blue dungarees (…with a scooch more room in the crotch in case you drop anything, according to the ad…) and vibrant blue tie.

Word on the street was that Abby had accused some of the Ohio Moms of hitting her up on her Sidekick for insider info on summer dance camps and random Abbyness, which Cathy couldn’t believe.  Canton’s Jerky Queen wanted phone bills and proof of texts and a swab from every Mom’s mouth to prove that her own Ohio posse was loyal.

You wish.

Turned out that Tanya had actually reached out to Abby a few times, which made Cathy look like a fool.  Round One:  Abby.

Back in the dressing room, Abby was threatening that there would be Hell to Pay if they lost the competition or if any Mom ever crossed her.  Same threats.  Different outfit.  And with matching color-coordinated jewelry, thank you very much.

It should also probably be noted that tiny Maddie was drinking what appeared to be the biggest cup of take out Joe I’ve ever seen a young girl guzzle.  She must have been up all night with that much caffeine.

Everyone was in full PsychThemOut mode backstage as they tried to give Justice nervous pee and mess with all the Candy Apples’ brains.

Even little Mackenzie was in on it, considering that she was dancing to the now classic Vivi-Anne Bumble Bee music.  To guarantee a win and some bed spins for the opposition, Mack had hooched up the infamous Bee costume into a Pussy Cats Doll ensemble.  If spaced out Vivi-Anne actually had a clue where she was, she would probably have been as miffed as Mom Cathy was that the other team was blatantly flipping them off with a new and improved Killer Bee.

All the solos were great.  Even Brooke got her face to work long enough to wow the judges.

Chloe’s legs got longer, and Mack stung Vivi-Anne right in the butt with her updated Bee.

Justice did some kind of wounded army vet looking thing.

The Candy Apples group number was a bunch of girls running around carrying umbrella-ellas while Justice tried to guide Vivi-Anne across the stage the way a Boy Scout guides a blind person across the street.

The ALDC group number was so good that everyone was probably texting about it after it was over.  But hopefully not on the drive home, right?

After a round of applause for the tee shirt throwers (…seriously?  Tee shirt thrower?  That’s a real job?  With a real paycheck?  Sign me up…) the awards were announced.

Fast Forward:  Abby and her team took all the top honors.  Like…all of them.  There were not even scraps for the Candy Apples.

Since these were the fancy Nationals, top honors even came with Shrinky Dink micro souvenir Toddlers & Tiaras crowns and sashes.

To finish off the night, and the second season, Abby and Kelly went one more round over the usual checklist of grievances.

Man, there was a lot of crying this week.

As Abby wobbled out the door ranting about how lucky Brooke and Paige were to be allowed access to the ALDC Mother Ship, Kelly still hadn’t decided whether she was coming back next year.

Then everyone cried some more.

Not exactly a Dynasty cliff hanger, but enough to keep us going for a few months.

Or at least until the Real Housewives of Pittsburgh Reunion Show.

Eat your heart out, Andy Cohen.