Posts Tagged ‘Dance Moms Candy Apple’s Dance Center’

Dance Moms: It Was The Beginning Of The End. Time For Rocky Mountain Highs…And Lows…As Abby And The ALDC Take Over Denver.

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013

 

 

So you girls need to figure out what you want to do with your life, and what the f*** Mommy’s gonna do with her hair today.

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously. And they talk about mine?

 

 

 

 

 

OMG. Dying. There’s a cute boy in the room. Please tell me I don’t have Cheez Whiz on my face.

 

 

 

 

 

So you’re saying I either dance, or stay home and eat ice cream and tacos all day? I’m gonna have to get back atchoo on that one.

 

 

 

 

Ok. “Crazy” doesn’t even cover it. I should have read the contract.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, don’t you worry. I still got it, bitches.

 

 

 

 

 

Take a deep breath, sew your damn headpiece into your skull and get ready to Jazz Hand and Bitch Slap your way up the Pyramid to Nationals again, people.

Because it is on.

Dance Moms is back.  And in your face.

We barely had time to unpack our rolling zebra print luggage from that exhausting trip to LA for Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition, and now it’s already time for another season of Pennsylvania Mama Drama.

Abby Lee Miller and her crew returned this week after a break in the competition season, a little rusty in the choreography department, but totally en pointe when it came to talking smack and teasing hair.

The new season kicked off with a prequel of sorts; an odd little pre-game show that was half Real Housewives of Pittsburgh and half community access Star Search.

I really don’t know what was going on with that first hour.  But it needs to be addressed.

Now I love me some crazy Dance Moms (…the more cray cray the better, thank you…) and I love my BFF producer Jeff Collins.

Yes…in the BlogWorld, in case you’re wondering, if someone emails you (…even one time…) you are now legally allowed to reference them as BFFs in all future conversations.  I read that somewhere on the internet, so you know it’s gospel.

But even with all that love…seriously, dude?

It’s 2013, so I’ll start the New Year off on a positive and give them all the benefit of the doubt with this pre-premiere special.

Maybe they maxxed out Lifetime’s AmEx on that Phantom of the Opera-ish AUDC Los Angeles venue.  It was pretty fancy, after all.  And I’m sure that having to pay for the rights to mention The Pussycat Dolls every time Robin Antin opened her mouth on screen for ten weeks didn’t come cheap.  Miss Thang does love her PCDs.

Have you ever watched one of those national telethons where they cut back to the local network feed after a commercial, just long enough to count the dimes some kid collected in a jar and then have the announcer’s daughter’s grade school tap class perform something that doesn’t even remotely resemble a tap dance?

It was like that.

I’m pretty sure they just pushed the phone banks off to the side and let the audience use the same chairs.  And don’t even get me started on the two lonely teenage boys in the audience, clearly attending only in the hopes of scoring a prom date later in the school year, as they chewed on their wristbands and watched their youth slip away.

Yolo, as the kids like to say nowadays.

It was just whacked.  Every time I looked up from my snacks there was either a giant camera or a piece of equipment unintentionally in the shot, with some random dude holding a clipboard running in a circle trying to avoid colliding into all that machinery.

Coming off the elaborate Ultimate Dance Competition, it was just odd.  Even the rented trade show backdrop looked like it was hiding a weatherman’s green screen.

Like I said, it just needed to be addressed.

But back to Pittsburgh.

As the tiny dancers and their Moms all marched into the studio for the first Pyramid of the season, it was glaringly obvious that Kelly, her crazy Mom hair and her two daughters were MIA from the festivities.

The last time we had seen the three of them was at Nationals, when Kelly finished off the episode with a cliff hanger of a meltdown that left the entire world wondering Who Shot J.R.? and if Team Hyland would ever return to the ALDC.  It didn’t look good so far.

The combination of California jet lag and being down two dancers a week before the first competition clearly pushed all of Abby’s buttons as she tore every head shot off the mirror and proclaimed it No Pyramid Day in the Kingdom.

Dat’s rite.  No Pyramid.  Just mind games this week.

Turns out that while Abby had been schmoozing her way around LA, she had planted some spies/guest choreographers strategically throughout the ALDC to keep the girls busy and get them up to snuff for the new season.

The idea looked good on paper, anyway.

Unfortunately, it turned out that family trips and suburban strip mall Meet & Greets had distracted most of them from attending a majority of the rehearsals.  New found television fame can do that, I guess.  And that made Abby cranky.

Having a group number that consisted of four clearly out of practice young girls wasn’t helping, either.  So nobody was finding out much about who got what and when and where until Abby was in the mood.

This week they were headed to Denver for the In10sity Dance Competition, and seeing as how she had no idea whether they were ever coming back to the studio or not, Abby needed to find replacements for Brooke and Paige.

Abby needed new dancers, asap, and apparently setting up massive open cattle call auditions via cell phone while you are filming a show in Los Angeles was easier than just shooting Kelly an email asking if she would be there on opening day.  Whatever, Abby.

Naturally, the audition turned into the Million Mom March meets American Idol as everyone weaved their way around the parking lot potholes (…seriously?  You have TWO cable network shows and you still can’t get those things filled in?…) and into the cattle call holding pen.  Even the Mom Perch was so overloaded that it looked like the last day of the month at the DMV as some no name woman went off on looney tunes “Suck It Up” Mom Leslie.

When it was all said and done, New Orleans newbie Ally was chosen and matriarch Shelly couldn’t have been any happier.  Ally was a tall drink of water, at least when stacked up against the current roster, and all the other Moms had immediate Payton flashbacks before any solos were even announced.  I guess in the Dance World height is more important than seniority, at least in Pittsburgh and at the Radio City Christmas Show.

Abby immediately shifted Ally into the group number’s lead position, thereby knocking Chloe back into the chorus line and tightening another screw in Christi‘s carotid artery.  Poor Shelly didn’t stand a chance in her first attempt at the Mom Perch, and ended up running out of the room to take iPhone movies of her kid stealing Chloe’s routine which someday will probably be entered into evidence at some harassment lawsuit somewhere.

Shelly seemed nice enough, and I could totally picture her playing piano for the New Orleans Junior High Choral Ensemble at next year’s Food Court Christmas Concert.  But she was outnumbered in the Dance Mom Jungle.  Don’t put your N’awlins house on the market just yet, honey.

We also jumped over to Kelly’s house for a few minutes as Brooke and Paige tried to decide what to do with their lives.  The only thing that really got accomplished in that scene was that we got a chance to take inventory of all the new clutter that Kelly picked up at HomeGoods over the summer.  Lord, Girlfriend does love that accessory aisle.

Then it was time to rehearse, kiddos.

The Bump-It-less (…I think I just invented another new word…) Jill had some major issues with both her hair and with Abby this week, which resulted in Kendall ending up awkwardly plopped on Mom’s lap, hysterically sobbing while everyone looked around at each other uncomfortably.

I’ll say it.  The kid’s getting a little too old for these Mackenzie meltdowns, and it made me feel like I do when 9 year olds are still allowed to sleep in their parent’s bed.  Of all times for Leslie to be at Walmart when we need her.

Suck it up.

And speaking of.  Tiny space shot Vivi-Anne was having no problem whatsoever sucking down a monster bowl of Ohio ice cream as everyone’s favorite evil villainess Chaos Cathy Nesbitt tried to get her daughter all sugar buzzed before cutting her from her own dance company.

After two full seasons of sequined airport baggage handlers tossing Vivi-Anne around the stage at every competition, even Cathy realized that it was time for a change.  And maybe even some actual dancing.  Abby had been wiping the floors with the Candy Apples Dance Center at every award ceremony, and it was time for revenge.

Cathy’s Secret Weapon, spastically red haired Justice, was no longer at the studio so she needed to get back to the War Room/Jerky Cooler and devise a new plan to conquer the ALDC.  And it was going to be filled pre-teen testosterone, if there is such a thing.  The Apples were going Boy Band this year.

I’m sad that our little ginger nugget won’t be back, only because that means his bad a** red haired Mom won’t be back either.  And I was totally planning on a biker bar chick fight this season.  Cuz you know that Bitch can throw down if you cut her off at the light.  I loved her, and miss her already.  Call me, maybe?

Since Abby was down to almost no dancers, everyone but Sasha Nia got a solo, and I was all like Laquifa WTF?  But her time will come.  She is Diva Fierce, and pretty much the only one who finally has her hair under control this season.  Yikes.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Rangeview High in beautiful downtown Denver was the host and they finally  hooked up the ALDC with a prep area that was actually large enough to…I dunno…prep in, for a change.  Abby was psyched.

They also had an odd security system in place to prevent unwanted intruders from barging into a rehearsal.  Tell me you saw that note on the door?  Go back and check if you missed it.

Attached to the door that everyone kept slamming was a hand written construction paper note that said something like “If someone knocks, tell me.  Do NOT answer the door.”  Yeah, it was even underlined.

Tell who?  Now we’ll never know if this was a secret After Hours club run by that Home Ec teacher who seemed so innocent.  Damn.

Luckily, Abby disregarded all security measures and allowed some ManCandy to enter the Girl’s Club when her former school crush Mark showed up out of the blue.

El Scandalo!  This Mark was the Mark that Kelly had (…allegedly…) stolen from Abby back in the day when they were all at some one room school house on the prairie.

Christi swore that Abby had slashed his tires in a fit of Taylor Swift heartbreak, but Abby claimed that Kelly was only 12 years old at the time and made the whole story up for TMZ.

And you thought the Dance World couldn’t get any creepier?  Please tell me the tires in question were attached to a banana bike with baseball cards on the spokes, or that whole 12 year old thing just turned into an undercover Dateline story.

Anyone care for any iced tea or potato chips?

Moving on.

Abby tripped all over herself whenever Mark was in the room, and ended up shoving somebody out of their seat in the auditorium to make room for her man during the competition.  She even dragged him out for snacks after the show was over.

Oh yeah.  Mama likes.

Then some kids did some dancing.  I know you aren’t here for the cultural aspects of the evening.  That’s what Google is for.

It’s going to take a few weeks for me to completely shake off the LA show, because after that expensive extravaganza the In10sity stage looked like a basement comedy club.  If the technical people are still online…a few more spotlights wouldn’t hurt.

Chloe, MackAttack and Kendall all did their solos without forgetting too many moves.

Maddie was Maddie, of course.  The only thing Nia had to do this week was participate in the group number, but Diva werked that bitch until it hurt.

Even the judges looked like they might have to excuse themselves and have a cigarette after the routine was over, the way they were grinding in their seats and tossing their heads back like Meg Ryan.

If Kendall had been available to sit on their laps, the Awkward Fest would have been complete.

During crowning (…sorry, wrong show…) the ALDC scored again and took first place with their Angels & Demons group dance.  They won some other spots as well, but I was so distracted by the judges screwing off in the background that I couldn’t pay attention.

Seriously.  How much chewing gum do they give those people?  I know they wanted to go home, but they may want to try Leading By Example the next time they find themselves surrounded by the youth of America.

The return of Dance Moms ended with yet another backstage screaming match.

Christi and Abby went at it, Holly scrunched up a few Real Housewives of Atlanta OhNoSheDin’t faces and a horrified Shelly just sat back and wet herself before anyone really had time to notice her new blazer.

Abby even swore in front of the girls, which is second only to sickle feet on the infamous Never Do List.  Fix your feet, and then watch your mouth.

Because everybody’s replaceable.

Yup.  They’re back.

Dance Moms: Paige Gets The Boot And Jill Gets Her Bump-It Back When The ALDC Heads To Starbound. Break A Leg, Ok? Or Maybe Both Of Them.

Wednesday, August 8th, 2012

 

 

Sing along. I’m Bringing Bump-Its Back. Them other Dance Moms don’t know how to act.

 

 

 

 

Shut. Up. I would kill for a juicy drumstick as big as that boot Paige is wearing. Literally. I would kill someone for it.

 

 

 

 

 

Soon. Very soon, baby girl. My Master Plan is slowly falling into place…bone by broken bone.

 

 

 

 

When I close my eyes, Kendall is a really famous dancer. And I’m on “Knots Landing” wearing shoulder pads and fur.

 

 

 

 

 

Just. Shoot. Me.

 

 

 

 

 

Alouette, Gentille Alouette.

That’s French.

French for “I’ll break ALL your legs if it will help my kid get in the Group Number.”

Knowledge.  The More You Know.

So stay in school kids.  And run like the freakin’ wind if you see Jill Vertes coming in your direction, because Mama will do whatever it takes to get Kendall into the ALDC and you do NOT want to get in her way.

That also pretty much just summed up the latest episode of Dance Moms, so if you’re short on time you can go now.  You’ll miss all the hilarity, but you got the gist of what happened.

For the rest of you with time to kill at work, here we go.

Fresh off a victorious trip to Lancaster, where Abby Lee Miller and her tiny tot dancers brought home oodles of high scores and displayable shiny hardware, it was time to prep for yet another Starbound National Talent Competition.

But as you know…and say it with me…nothing can get done until the Pyramid of Shame is revealed, so Abby whistled everyone into the studio like livestock at a farm bankruptcy auction and got down to bidnezz.

However, during the pointe shoe platoon of mom and daughter soldiers falling into formation it was glaringly apparent that they were missing Kelly, her crazy a** haircut and Paige.

As you will recall last time in Lancaster, Paige had decided to rehearse her backwards whatchamacallit in the makeup room.  Now, personally, I didn’t need to actually see the hotel construction blueprints to know that there was probably nothing but solid concrete under the synthetic carpet squares, but for reasons we may never know Paige shot backwards like a Slinky when you flip it down a staircase and immediately doinked her toe.

Turned out she didn’t just doink it, she really doinked it.  Which explained why she and Mom were still at the doctor’s office having all the little piggies on Paige’s left foot scoped out.

But even if the doctor had to cut that thing off at the ankle with no anesthesia, the Pyramid must go on.  So chop chop, girls.

The bottom row was all about Paige, Mackenzie and Chloe.

Proving that even when you’re MIA you can get knocked down a peg or two, Paige was at the bottom because of that backwards whatchamacallit.  I guess Abby’s reasoning was that compared to a potentially career ending face plant on solid concrete, having your photo taped to the bottom of the Pyramid wouldn’t seem so bad.

Mackenzie was there basically because she was Mackenzie.  Love the MacAttack.  No matter how many times Abby pokes her with a stick, Mack just pokes with her tongue through one of those missing tooth spots and goes on like a trooper.

Chloe was there to make room for Maddie at the top, even though Abby didn’t actually verbalize it quite like that.  But I’m psychic, and I knew.

Middle row was all about Brooke, her teenage angst and Nia.

Now that you bring it up, even Brooke’s headshot looks a little mopey.  It’s a pretty photo and all, but it kind of looks like something that would be attached to the resumé of some young soap opera ingenue who’s had a rough start to life in Pine Valley, if you know what I mean.  She’s already really pretty, but Girlfriend needs to get her smile muscles to work as hard as her core.  She also needs to pop an Advil and foam roll her back muscles, because she was hurting this week.

Nia werq’d it last week with her Laquifa What? sequel, but again…the whole Maddie thing threw a wrench into that climb up the hill.

Finally, Top Spot was again reserved for Maddie, and I hope you all do a better job of faking a surprised look when they throw you a birthday party in the office breakroom next year than you did at that reveal.

MackAttack, Brooke and Maddie all got solos for the competition.  But more importantly, for the first time after begging for years and years…Chloe finally got her duet with Paige.

One minor KidSpaz later, the excitement was quickly dialed down about 100 notches when Paige klunked into the studio wearing one of those Terminator walking boots on her busted foot.

Yeah.  That duet wasn’t gonna happen.

At least not for 4 to 6 weeks anyway.  No dancing for Paige.  Just soft beachy curls and note taking.  Breaking her toe also seemed to have cut into her age-inappropriate hairstyling regimen, because Paige’s ‘do didn’t seem to irritate me as much as it had in the last few weeks.  Granted, it was still borderline fake I.D. photo that you buy on the pier at Hampton Beach and then try to scuff up to make it look like you’ve had it in your purse forever, but yeah…it was definitely more chillaxed.

So, have you been reading about how all these baby seals are congregating on New England beaches this summer?  And how all these great white sharks are now smelling them and swimming really close to the shore to try and eat them all?

Well.  Stick a Bump-It on one of those great whites, shove it in a mini-van, set its GPS for Pittsburgh…and there you have it.

Jill was back.  Again.  And she smelled the blood in the water.

The podiatrist had barely even licked the x-ray envelope shut and Jill was already in the building trying to slip Kendall into the group number.  She actually swooped down so quickly I thought she might break Paige’s other foot in her haste to get some lipstick on her kid and shove Kendall into Abby’s face.

Under the guise of being there to “take a class,” Jill booted Kendall out of the studio and then swam up to crippled baby seal Paige, who I’m pretty certain started to scribble Save Me in her notepad and then slowly held it up towards the camera lens like a kidnap victim does in the back window of a getaway car.

After telling Paige how sorry she was about her foot, in much the same tone of voice I would use if I was proclaiming how sorry I was that all those Krispy Kreme donuts fell off the truck onto my doorstep unharmed and still warm, Jill scooted up to the Mom Perch to get under everyone’s skin.

Side note.  If this whole dance thang doesn’t work out, it’s probably good to know that Christi has a future in cartoon voiceovers.

I’m just throwing this one out there in case she is ever looking for additional income to put towards all her glitter tops, because I swear the woman channeled Grover from Sesame Street when she started worrying about Kendall now having a spot on the Pyramid.

Or Yoda, maybe.  I couldn’t decide.

Place on Pyramid, She Has.

In the midst of all this hub bub, Maddie had to fly out to Atlanta to film her scenes on Drop Dead Diva, because otherwise Lifetime wasn’t going to be able to run 72 commercials for the show during this episode.

Seriously.  Lifetime.  We get it.

On the other hand, Kelly didn’t get The Diary of Anne Frank, which was the theme for Brooke’s solo.  Going forward, she may want to keep in mind that Holly is a school principal and the freakin’ book was required 5th grade reading, because Holly’s face alone was worth the price of admission.

Not to mention that they even made a comic book out of it, lady.

Since someone else was now going to have to shimmy around with Chloe in the duet, Abby threw together what I guess you would call an audition.  She figured it would be in her best interest to fake one out instead of just telling Nia NO and then giving it to Kendall, because you know how Al Sharpton somehow always magically shows up like an ambulance chaser every time something like that goes down.

While working on the costumes for the Alouette themed group number, Holly saw what was happening in the auditions and wasn’t liking it.  She probably also wasn’t liking all the distractions of the Secret Moms on the other side of the Perch.  They were exceptionally active this week.

And who are these people?  Do we ever get to see them?  They’re like that other side of the island on LOST or something.   If one of them doesn’t do an impromptu puppet show off the back of the couch or stick a sign up behind Melissa‘s head pretty soon, I’m going to be really disappointed.

Finally, all the Moms put down their French costume scraps and went downstairs to get all up in Abby’s grill about Kendall and Jill again.  The usual.

The best part was Holly twirling Nia’s beret around on her finger like some crazy Mime who’ll cut you if you don’t drop 5 Euros in her tin can.  I love Holly.

Then there was about 15 minutes of Jill hissy fits, Jill outfits and Jill hairstyles.

Not for nothing, but I’m starting to think that the girls down at the salon didn’t really walk Jill through what to do with her hair when they’re not around, because every time we saw her she was trying something else in an attempt to get a handle on it.  But she brought the Bump-It back, and that’s really all that matters.

Maddie’s trip to Atlanta was just a show within a show for a few minutes, and a cleverly disguised commercial before we broke for the real DDDiva commercial.

Well played, Lifetime.

Finally it was Show Time!

This time around, the competition was set up in the hotel ballroom on one of those parquet floors they roll out for bar mitvahs and receptions.  No platform.  No nuthin.

Full disclosure, I was secretly hoping that a rogue housekeeping cart would roll across the middle of the stage at some point, with one of those delightfully crazy women with Windex in her apron pocket and a pillow under one arm running after it screaming like she works at Taco Bell.

But no such luck.

The group Mime number went off without a hitch, or a Room Service tray, so that was a good thing.  I wasn’t quite sure what was happening with Abby’s hair when they cut to one of her interview shots right after the number…guess somebody forgot their conditioner that day.  Whoa.

Brooke’s back continued to act up until all she could do was lay face down on the floor, which seemed kind of counterproductive since most chiropractors tell you to lay on your back when it hurts to align your spinal cord.  But whatever.

Kelly finally got her Mom Courage up and pulled Brooke’s number, figuring that risking paralysis is probably not worth the souvenir Starbound t-shirt.

That resulted in another throw down between pretty much all the Moms, the kids and that lady with the Windex.  Abby swore that Kelly and Brooke were in cahoots to pull the number because they were scared of the level of competition that was out on the parquet, which deteriorated into Abby’s declaration that “Lazy Gets You Nowhere!” which in turn gave us one of Holly’s patented Whatchoo Talkin’ About Willis? faces.

Did I mention that I love her?

Maddie’s solo was entitled “This Is Me Over You” which was Abby’s poorly veiled middle finger flip to all the other girls.  And it didn’t go unnoticed.  I feel sorry for the kid, because she hates that Abby keeps rubbing her successes into the faces of all her little friends, and she really does try to not get all Mini Diva on them.  But Abby won’t let up.

It’s really gotten to the point where I swear that if Abby had any upper body strength she would pick up Maddie like the Lion King baby and let all the other gazelles gather ’round in awe.

By the way, if you want to know the results of the competition, you may want to Google a site that has a clue what they’re talking about.  All I know is that the emcee changed his tie in the middle of the show.  What was that all about?

By the time it was all over, Brooke was still face down, Jill was still phutzing with her hair and wishing that Brooke had been in more severe pain earlier in the week so Kendall could have moved in for the kill and Abby was still hugging Maddie so hard that I thought the kid’s head would pop off like one of Kelly’s wine corks.

For a little more salt in the wound, Abby then requested that Maddie show everyone her DDDiva routine.  Because she’s Maddie.  And they’re not.

Next thing I knew there was so much Mom Meltdown going on that my next door neighbor pounded on the wall thinking I was having a party.

Somebody screamed something about Role Models.  Christi accused Abby of sabotaging her daughter.  Abby called Chloe a Sneak or a Snake or both.  Christi called Abby a Whore.  Four times, I believe.

Oh Snap.  She went there.

Then Chloe cried, which set off all the other girls like dominos.  Melissa yanked Maddie out of the room like there was  a shoe sale in the lobby and Holly did another ‘Willis face or two.  Maybe more.

Abby then implied that Brooke was past her prime and may never dance again.  You can figure out how Kelly reacted to that one on your own.

Jill just sat back and took it all in, knowing that the more blood that they spill in the room, the closer to the shore she and Kendall can swim.

It got tense.  The kind of tense that smelled like dancing baby seal meat.

And Mama’s hungry.

Dance Moms: Counting Down Sparkly Dresses And Hot Messes. It’s Time For Abby’s Dance-a-Thon. Check Out The Worst To The Best Dances…Because She’s Abby And She Said So.

Wednesday, July 4th, 2012

 

 

Dances are like donuts. Some are good. Some are bad. Some I’ve almost choked on.

 

 

 

 

 

Cougar Rule #1: Mama should never shake what her Mama gave her. Ever.

 

 

 

 

 

Drop it like it’s Hot. Because I’m Nia, and that’s how we do. Mmmkay?

 

 

 

 

 

Oh. Hell. No. Bitch stole my moves? And my wig?

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously. Shouldn’t there be a red light on the camera or something? Where is everybody?

 

 

 

Two things you can always count on.

Abby Lee Miller loves her Bare Minerals pearlized eye shadows…and Countdown Lists.

Seems like we just had an OMG Moment or two a few weeks ago, and now Ms. Miller was already back to check off her grocery list of dances ranging from stellar to sloppy.

Disguised as a rundown of Abby’s least to most favorite dance numbers over the past season or two, it was actually just a perfect opportunity to kick back in that crazy Liberace closet and talk smack about all the Moms while they were out of the room.

And she brought her notes.

Now if only she could find the camera.

Let’s just get this one out in the open right now, and then we can get to the good stuff.

I’m not trying to be any meaner than normal, but there are two things that…umm…substantially big boned people should know by the time they reach 3rd grade.

No horizontal stripes.  And no profile shots on camera.  Ever.  You should have figured it out on class picture day, honey.  It is what it is.

Those artsy side angle shots might work for MasterCard commercials or if you’re half in the bag on The Jersey Shore, but otherwise, please look at me when you’re talking.

Girlfriend might as well have been texting a take out order on her Sidekick it was so distracting.  I kept snapping my fingers to get her attention.

Ok.  Got that off my chest.  Here we go…

10.  Pin Up Girls Gone Blind.

I don’t really think this one was the worst dance ever in the history of the ALDC, but Abby hated it…and she’s in charge.

Chloe, Maddie and Paige were happily jumping all over the stage wearing headbands large enough to soak up flood waters when Chloe started to go blind.

Now before you panic and start Googling…it wasn’t the medical seizure kind of blindness.  It would definitely make for a more exciting paragraph, but I wouldn’t wish that on any little dancer.

According to Abby, Mom Christi had been so busy sucking down brewskis at the bar across the street that she had neglected to sew the headband into Chloe’s skull.

Therefore, through the Laws of Physics, it started to slip down over her line of vision until she looked like that statue they always show on Law & Order.

We all know what a cutie patootie Chloe is, but it’s been well documented that her little eyeballs are kinda, sorta close together.  Having a gigantic piece of spandex slide down over your sockets is probably not something that you want to happen in the middle of a crosswalk, much less during a dance competition.

Instead of yanking it down around her neck, Chloe just kept on dancing and somehow made it through the number without falling off the stage.  I’m going to assume that somehow she suddenly acquired the same heightened sight impaired radar that Daredevil had in the movies, because he never bumped into anything either.

9.  Vivi-Anne Catches A Buzz.

This one just made you realize how much you miss the Candy Apples Dancers.

Cathy’s Spaztastic little girl Vivi-Anne was decked out in Vick’s VapoRub and that infamous bumble bee costume, back before everyone evacuated to Ohio to begin plotting revenge with the League of Evil Soccer Moms Gone Bad.

I think it was pretty clear to all of us early on, that Vivi-Anne will probably never be allowed to operate heavy machinery of any kind due to whatever condition it is that makes her so stuffed up.

I know it can’t just be me.   Between the age-inappropriate (…not to mention early in the morning inappropriateness of it all, thank you…) glitter eye shadow and Where Am I attitude, that poor kid really needs to just wait until Cathy takes some turkey jerky and a People magazine into the tub one night and then run like the wind in the opposite direction until she can’t see street lights in the rear view.

For the Dance of the Bee, Cathy had secretly taught Vivi-Anne a completely different number than Abby had originally choreographed (…more than likely done subliminally while the poor kid was blacked out from cough medicine…) and then sent her out on stage.  Needless to say, by the time Vivi-Anne combined the two routines into one big hot bee mess, it didn’t go well.

Afterwards, as Abby began pounding down on Cathy, her nerves got the best of her and Cathy appeared to break into a little vaudeville routine which I swear was set to the theme song from The Jeffersons.  For realz.  She was all like “Can we just move on…move on?  Moving on up…moving on up…” with Soul Train locomotive arms.

It was sort of like that singing frog on Bugs Bunny, too.  Hello, my baby.

8. Juvenile Detention And Jazz Hands.

In a tribute to Bob Fosse, the girls all got their Chicago on, in a jazzy jailbird routine.

Pushing around the rolling barricades that you always see at the top of a broken mall escalator (…though these had been turned into makeshift jail bars through the magic of elastic strapping…) the girls just couldn’t quite get it together.

Between one jailbird getting tangled in the bungee bars and then another jailbird kicking her jail wall halfway across the stage by mistake, Abby was not a happy warden.

I didn’t think the dance was bad enough to get inked with a permanent #8, but then again I’ve never been to a fabulously gay Bob Fosse jailhouse so I don’t really have a benchmark upon which to judge this dance.

But Melissa seemed to really enjoy it, because she was getting all down with the music like a BET video vixen.  Holly on the other hand, looked like she was in the process of passing a stone.  I think the nerves got the best of her on this one, combined with the free sour balls in that bowl at the check-in desk.

BONUS MONTAGE: I should be dancing, right?

Abby then tossed in a quick uncomfortably awkward retrospective showing Paige, Chloe, Maddie and Nia all forgetting their routines on stage.  Before I even had time to feel bad and give them all a hug, Abby told the girls to use their brains and freakin’ do something when you draw a blank on stage.

Geezis.  Don’t just stand there and cry.  Dance!

And whatever you do…do NOT run off the stage and cry like a baby.  Everyone knows the Pee Wee Dance, right?

Tequila, bitch.

7.  An apple a day guarantees Cirque du Soleil.

Gumby flexible Brooke owned the stage on this one as she contorted herself every which way but loose, all while holding a sequined apple from the Garden of Eden.

Even Abby didn’t have anything bad to say about the number.  She believes that Brooke is strong and flexible enough to someday ride a foam core unicycle suspended over Celine Dion’s head in Vegas.

Of course, she couldn’t let the number go without a few zings.  The only thing holding Brooke back right now are hormones and Mom Kelly.

And not to be outdone by a lousy Cirque clown,  Abby busted out her own mime drinking straight vodka out of a bottle routine every time she mentioned Kelly for the rest of the episode.

6. Halleloo to you.

Drag queen Shangela and Nia’s Death Drop.  Need I say more?

That bitch is F-I-E-R-C-E.  And not just the boy bitch.  Hell.  No.

Love me some Nia.

She was born to do jazz funk, even though the dance did flash back to an earlier time when Abby still insisted that afro wig-wearing Nia would never work in this town again unless she legally changed her name to Great Googlie Ooglie.

That sentence is so wrong in so many ways.

BONUS MESS: The Mom Dance. Don’t break a hip.

Cathy hogging the stage during the infamous Mom Dance.  A surprise attack.  And yet, no surprise.

Long before the two skinny boys in wife beaters sashayed out with a hook to drag Cathy off stage, we could see where Vivi-Anne got her motor skills.

No wonder husband Mike jerks it.

5.  Chloe gets a Star on her report card.

The final five were the best of the best, so Abby didn’t have much snark left in her by the time we got to Chloe.

With her little Wonder Woman halter top and obnoxious Hollywood Dance Competition backdrop, Chloe nailed the Dream On A Star number.

Even Christi had to take a break from her seemingness endless face making artistry to just put on a Proud Mom face and enjoy the moment.

Honestly, I swear that Chloe’s legs grew longer somewhere in the middle of that dance.

That kid was born for this.

4.  Grandma would be Proud, Maddie.

Maddie’s tribute to her late Grandmother wasn’t even hindered by the video game backdrop that Starpower always likes to plaster across every stage they sponsor.

Now I get the whole branding thing, but some of these back walls are so glaring that the girls might as well just dance in front of that moving Coke bottle in Times Square.  I was waiting for laser beams or explosions or something to bust out of the logo while tiny Maddie was flitting around the stage like a little angel.

Dial it down a little.  Can’t they just give out Starpower super soakers or frisbees or something?

The girl did some mad spins at the end.  Crazy mad.  Grandma and Charlie would be proud of that Angel.

BONUS: Paige and Mackenzie get their moments.

We finally got to see Paige just dance.  No distracting group numbers or trios or nothing.

Not even the distraction of that way too old for her head haircut that makes Paige kind of look like that girl we all knew in school who curled and teased herself into a stupor until she looked old enough to sneak into a bar to see her first cover band, and then missed the whole show because she was throwing up in the bathroom after two sips of a White Russian.

You know who I’m talking about.  We all do.

Attention Lifetime Makeup Dept: There’s no doubt that Paige is going to be a looker when she grows up.  Just let her get there on her own time.  Thank you for your attention to this important matter.

Mackenzie’s solo was back when she had even fewer teeth, but she boinked around the stage so fast you barely noticed.  She is a human jumping bean.  And so perky you want to just slap the person next to you for no reason.

3.  Once you go Black Swan…

Another Chloe and Maddie production.  Good vs. Evil in the Ballet World.  Nailed it.

2.  Objects in mirror are larger than they appear.

The National Title winning dance!  Hand held mirrors and no f*** ups helped the ALDC team bring home the trophy.  Abby was positively giddy.

BONUS FOSHIZZLE IN THE HIZZLE: Nia werks it, girl.

The full length LaQuifa What? dance.  Afro and all.

Just a little slice of Fierceness that made me want to put on my Chess King satin, lace up my Thom McAn platforms and pick my hair till the cows come home.

Followed up by the gold lamé James Bond Secret Agent dance, complete with matching artillery accessories.  Guns make the outfit.  Duh.

1.  And the winner is…

The Number One best dance, at least as far as Abby was concerned, was the somber ode to missing children.

I know, right?

Bummer.  From its creepy coffee shop open mic nite intro to the children disappearing one by one from the stage, it was a bit of a downer for the audience and the judges.

Abby likes her edgy routines, and you could certainly file this one under that description.

Luckily, to lighten the mood a little, we had Vivi-Anne completely oblivious to her surroundings, swinging back and forth on a swing set like someone had forgotten their sack of potatoes at the playground after abducting the other kids.

Nobody quite knew what to think of the number, but it did what it was supposed to do, and sometimes you just gotta think out of the box if you want to fill that trophy case.

Abby did her drunk mime routine one more time, stuck it to the Moms again and then it was over.

The worst to the best…so far.

But it ain’t over until the fat lady sings.

Or dances.


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