DanThat'sCool!

 

 

You interrupt my rehearsal one more time and I swear I’m bringing my bikini!

 

 

 

And I was all like “Lawd, give me strength to not pop off on this bitch.”

 

 

 

 

The Stampede of the Baywatch Boogie Babies.

 

 

 

Yes you are. You are just as fierce as Beyoncé. Trust me, that bitch is tired.

 

 

 

So heads…you get the hot Mom. Tails…I get her and you dance a trio with Abby and that Candy Apples chick. Deal?

 

Crockett and Tubbs would have probably turned their guns on each other if they had still been patrolling the pastel colored streets of Miami when the Dance Moms caravan pulled into town.

That’s right, you heard me.  There was a whole lot of Pittsburgh down South this week.

Abby Lee Miller layered on an additional protective coating of Bare Minerals SPF92, packed up her pointy-toed posse and headed to the beaches of Miami for the American Dance Alliance in an attempt to redeem her…I mean…their reputation after not even managing to grab one spot in last week’s Fire & Ice Super Uber Elite Dancepalooza Extravaganza.

After returning home with not even one freakishly gigantic trophy sticking out of the sunroof, it’s a pretty good bet that everyone knew going in that this new Pyramid of Shame was going to be a rough ride.

As the kids yawned and scratched their eyes due to what seemed to be the result of having contracted a new strain of localized jet lag simply by traveling to the other side of town for the Elite Event, Abby gathered everyone together.

It was time to reveal the I Swear, If Maddie Is Not On Top Again, I’m Gonna Spit Out My Drink Right Here In Front Of Everyone. Don’t Think I Won’t Pyramid.

Abby has either lost some of her mojo for this weekly presentation, or she is still holding a grudge that Chaos Cathy Nesbitt uses a genetically enhanced iPad for her Candy Apple’s bootleg version, because sometimes she flies through it so fast I have to rewind.

Sitting at the bottom was little MacNugget Mackenzie.  She has that childish innocence that you wish you could hold onto forever, because whether Abby spanks her or makes her Top Dawg, Mackenzie just sticks her tongue through her teeth holes and smiles.

She is so cute you want to pause the DVR and just squish her face.

Paige is also at the bottom because, according to Abby, she isn’t utilizing her spare time well enough.  I’m going to assume that in AbbyLand that means Paige is doing homework and eating balanced meals instead of practicing her one handed, backward cartwheels with a split thing at the end.

Shame on that girl for pissing away such valuable rehearsal time with frivolity such as nutrition.  Chop Chop.  Spit that out.  That’s what V-8 Juice is for, girlie.

Nia is once again finishing up the trifecta.  Abby still wants more.

Kudos to Mom Holly, who each week clenches that doctorate between her teeth and stands her ground, when it would be so easy to just let Abby slap a Mammy apron on her little girl and force Nia to googlie ooglie until she blacks out.  No pun intended.

Holly fights the ethnic stereotyping like a rockstar, but the end result usually means Nia gets knocked over as Maddie and Chloe run to the top of the triangle.

Chloe and Brooke were hanging out on the second row.  Chloe was just ok last time, but Abby really needs her to go for the jugular on those 12 year olds in her age category.

As for Brooke, I swear that even if the Twilight cast showed up in Justin Bieber’s limo, I don’t think that kid would crack a smile.  Next time Brooke hangs her head in teen angst, I wouldn’t put it past Abby to stab her in the neck with a syringe full of the Joker venom that Jack Nicholson used right before he robbed the Gotham City Bank.

Just one smile.  I’ll give you a dollar.

Maddie was at the top.  No surprise.  She smiles a lot and is really level headed.

She’s also been working some pretty pee wee Jennifer Lopez hairstyles lately.  Check it out…everything is side swept and Idolized.

I’m just Maddie from the Block, keepin’ it Real.

This week’s big chance to spaz out came when Abby announced that everyone was going to Miami, baby!  Even though none of them could point to it on a map, they were some psyched to be heading to the beach during Pittsburgh’s snowy season.

To embrace their Inner Beach, Abby had created a group number based on the 1960s Beach Blanket Bingo craze.  It was full on Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon!  Pony dancing, snorkel nose shimmying and whatever it was those crazy kids did back then.

The kids had basically tuned her out after the “Going to Miami” part, because they had no clue what Abby was ranting about.  But they were going to the beach!

In a moment that will definitely come back and haunt her later in life, Paige had to announce that even though Abby had just placed her in this week’s trio, she was going to have her foot warts cut off tomorrow and might be rocking it one legged for a few days.

Now, this is the thing.  Planters warts are pretty common for dancers.  Just ask anyone.

Well, except me, because even with all my years of Studio 54 (…and Ground Round back when they had peanut shells on the floor…) clubbing I have luckily been spared the agony of the wart.  But they’re pretty common, or so my people tell me.

It’s just that most people don’t announce it on national television.

It’s one thing to show your blurred out junk on Facebook, but when you go on television and say the word “wart” you know that isn’t going to play out well when you finally reach dating age.

(Hey…aren’t you the girl who…?)

Moving on from that gnarly bit of foot news, we headed to Ohio and the Evil Dance Lair…Candy Apple’s Dance Center & Beef Jerky Emporium.

I’ve started to watch these scenes with my head tilted sideways so it feels more like I’m watching the 1960s Batman villains in their hideout.

Try it.

You wake up with a debilitating stiff neck in the morning, but it really amps up the quality of your viewing pleasure.  Sometimes I pretend that the bad a** red haired Mom is really Catwoman.  Meow.

Chaos Cathy was working with newly poached Kendall, while Mom Jill and her poof sat on the sidelines.  Jill is so out of her element up there in CowVille that it’s almost painful, but that’s what makes it so fun.

I wish Comcast had Smell-0-Vision so I could get a whiff of Jill’s Chanel #5 mixing with the beefy stank of that hand rubbed Bourbon Jerky drying next door.

(Memo to self:  Invent Smell-o-Vision.  And use Beefy Stank as your new porn name.)

Not only can Cathy make a dance costume out of dried beff and cure the blind, but apparently she can also make the doofy dance again…because suddenly Kendall is learning how to point her toes and not walk into walls.  She’s healed!!!  Testify.

Cathy has also somehow gotten Kendall a gig dancing at half time during a Harlem Globetrotters Game.

Yeah.  That’s what I said.  And Jill thinks it’s a perfect fit, whatever that means in a little girl in a skimpy outfit dancing in front of sweaty athletes kind of way.  I didn’t ask.

So this is how the rest of the show went down, in case you have somewhere to go.

Holly got sick and tired of Abby not treating Nia with respect and always skipping over her daughter for the trio dances, and climbed down from the Mom Perch to interrupt Abby’s rehearsal to discuss the situation.  If you skim when you read, the important words were “interrupt” and “discuss.”  The rest you can probably figure out without reading.

It didn’t go well.  Abby and Holly got into it, to the point where Holly threatened to leave and never come back.  They tossed a lot more smack back and forth, but honestly I was so distracted by the pink sign on the soda machine that I wasn’t paying attention.

Only 75 cents for a can of soda.  Shut the front door.  Only 75 cents.

I don’t even remember the last time I paid less than $1.50.  Seriously.  I may have to start dance lessons just to get my Diet Coke fix.

Abby pushed all of Holly’s buttons until she grabbed her daughter and sped off in the car, laying a patch that made me wonder if she had stolen the front desk cash register.

Paige got her warts laser beamed off, and got to wear some cool Prevent Blindness shades in the process.  She should keep those to wear in public until the cute boys forget about her feet.

Holly and Nia came crawling back a day and a half later, because it really wasn’t fair to Nia that she got caught up in the drama and Mom wanted to show her how to be the better person.  And she forgot her cell phone and day planner in the Mom Perch and had to come back anyway.  (That part may be my interpretation of the events, just in case you discuss this over cocktails later.)

Naturally Abby put everyone’s lives at stake by taking off in the bus during a snow storm.  Everytime.  If you want to make it snow in Pennsylvania, just rent a Greyhound.

The airlines must have done a good job de-icing the wings, because everyone arrived in Miami safe and sound, where Abby took the girls to the beach and the Moms busted open the mini bar.

At first I was a little uncomfortable with all those tiny girls in tiny bikinis rehearsing their Annette and Frankie number out there on the beach, what with all the rolling around and provocative upside down leg splits and all.  But then I noticed that they were performing the whole thing in front of a giant Gay Pride flag, so I think they were pretty safe.

Finally, it was showtime.

I love the way that Abby and the gang all do that Desperate Housewives walk into the venue each week.  You know…all in a row with the wind blowing their hair in matching outfits.  I swear they do it in slow motion sometime.

The competition was held in a big gymnasium kind of joint again, which luckily didn’t give Maddie bad flashbacks, since she did quite a nice face plant the last time she had to dance on wood flooring.

The beach number was cute, and very Annette and Frankie.  The high point definitely had to be when my little MacNugget got rolled over everyone else like one of those hot dogs at Cumberland Farms.

The low point was definitely when Nia had a complete brain freeze and forgot her dance.  When she ran off the floor in tears I wanted to buy her a stuffed animal or something.  She was so sad, but Mom picked her up, dusted her off and sent her back on for her second chance.  Totally Team Nia.

I take that all back.  The highlight was definitely during Chloe’s solo.  Please tell me I’m not making this up and someone else saw it?

She starts the dance laying on the floor.  The floor has this FIU logo on it, for whatever FIU stands for…

Her skinny little body pretty much covers up the “I” and subliminally gives a big FU to Abby in the stands.

Nothing else that happened after that really matters anymore, now does it?

The End.

 

 

I am way too over accessorized to take your crap anymore, lady. I’m outta here.

 

 

 

 

 

Girrrrrl.  Yo’ Momma is one loose cannon.

 

 

 

 

 

Something’s not right here. Did I forget underwear again?

 

 

 

 

 

I’m taking this kid and you can’t stop me. I hope I got the right one. This one’s mine, right?

 

 

 

 

The only thing tastier than Candy Apples…Fresh Meat on a stick. Come to Momma, baby.

 

 

 

Abby Lee Miller said it.  There are no rules in the Dance World.

True, there are rules on the performance stage regarding technique, pointing your toes and not running with scissors.  I also vaguely remember from Dancing with the Stars that your foot shouldn’t come off the floor in a dance with no lifts unless you want Carrie Ann Inaba to blow a nutty.  But that’s all show stuff.

Abby was talking about the cruel reality known as the Dance (Moms) World.

No rules out there.  Nada.  Probably should be, if for no other reason than to preserve the species.  But nothing yet.

Personally I’m too busy watching TV, but if anyone has some time on their hands and feels the need to compile a list of potential guidelines, Kill or Be Killed would be a good starting point.

Seriously.

Oh, Dance Moms.

In all honesty, sometimes I forget what show I’m watching.  I know it’s America’s Guilty Pleasure, and I know I shouldn’t bring it up when the guys are over for the Big Game.

But sometimes I just forget.

Between some rather unfortunate jungle print wardrobe decisions, loads of faux fur and a pack of Moms that constantly chew on each other’s throats, there have been more than a few times when I actually thought I may have unknowingly laid back on my remote and flipped over to the National Geographic Channel.

If it wasn’t for all the glitter and that sissy dog being pushed around in a pink baby stroller, I would swear I was watching one of those NatGeo specials where the Momma lions shred everything around them to protect their young.

Luckily that dog in the baby stroller always brings me back to reality.

This week was the Fire & Ice Competition just down the road in beautiful, land locked Pittsburgh, so Abby and her crew could finally save some travel money, do some laundry and stay local for a few meals.

But local or not, everything always begins with the How Many Weeks Is Kendall Going To Be On The Bottom Before Her Mom Loses It Pyramid of Shame.

Answer: This week should do it.

Sure enough.  Numero Uno on the bottom is Kendall.

Again.

And back on probation.

Again.

Not even four minutes into the episode and Jill went off like a Macy’s fireworks rocket.

That big sparkly one that shoots up really loudly at the end of the show.  That one.

It was a classic Real Housewives of Pittsburgh moment as Jill busted out every dramatic pose in her repertoire and basically melted down in front of everyone.

Again.

She also used the opportunity to practice her celebrity imitation skills by dramatically screeching “What…More…Do…You…Want…From…Her?” in the best William Shatner staccato that I have heard since that TV Land Star Trek Marathon.

While Jill’s hysteria toggled back and forth between Captain Kirk and Teresa Giudice, Abby pointed out every flaw in Kendall’s performances until the poor little thing started to cry.

Jill was Over…It.  She and Kendall are going to find a studio…That…Appreciates…Them.

Hopefully little Kendall can still dance with her dislocated arm after Jill grabbed her and dragged her out the door and down the hall like she was a knock off Louis Vuitton bag.

Warp Speed.  Engage.

When the dust settled, the remaining girls all looked around at each other not sure whether they should leave or stick around for the rest of the Pyramid Game.  Abby didn’t even skip a beat as she revealed Paige, Mackenzie and Brooke finishing off the bottom row.

As Moms Kelly and Melissa rolled their eyes, Abby explained that Paige pretty much forgot where she was during the last Trio Dance which resulted in her bottom row status, Mackenzie just needs adult teeth and more practice, and Brooke’s onset of puberty…well…that just pisses Abby off.  Teen angst is one thing.  Not knowing how to smile is another.  Turn that frown upside down or you’ll never dance or date again, sister.

Middle ground was Maddie with her enormous smile, and Chloe with her not so enormous eyes.  I love those two kids.

Top row?  Wait for it….wait for it…

NIA!! Laqueefa Wha–?!?!?

Finally.  And the crowd goes wild.

Christi better watch her back, because Holly may soon be taking over the title of Best Proud Mom Face Ever very soon.  When you least expect it, you might get a rolled up PhD doctorate in the back of the head and suddenly there’ll be a new Queen in town.

This week’s group numbah is a Wedding Dance complete with bouquets and questionably age (in)appropriate garters.  Abby wanted all the Dance Dads (Spike TV…are you listening?  Spin off anyone?) to show up at the competition to give their daughters away to the Dance, so to speak.  Sounded a little sacrificial, but whatever sells tickets.

As the girls started working on their bridal boogie, the remaining Moms scooted upstairs to dish about Jill.  While Holly struck a seriously reflective Oprah pose and took it all in, Melissa got a text from Jill in her getaway car swearing that she is gone for good, suckahs.

Speeding down the highway, Jill put in a call to the Evil Dance Lair, better known as Candy Apple’s Dance Center, home of the villainess Chaos Cathy and her League of Mall Moms Gone Bad.  Cathy will stop at nothing to bring the Art of the Dance to greater Ohio, and if she can stick it to Abby Lee Miller at the same time…even better.

Somehow Cathy has the ability to smell blood in the water even over a cell phone, and she pretty much drooled out a little candy apple juice at the thought of stealing one of Abby’s Moms.  Especially since she was headed to Pittsburgh this week to do the whole bring the Art of the Dance/Stick it to Abby thing on Abby’s home turf anyways.  Bonus.

While Cathy was wiping caramelized spittle off her chin, all the Moms headed down to the neighborhood Bridal Boutique.  The trip was in the name of research for the wedding costumes, but quickly turned into an episode of Pre-Menopausal Say Yes To The Dress.

Melissa, best known for doing whatever…whatever…it takes to pay the dance bills, is now secretly engaged to her new beau.  Except everyone knows already, so I’m not really sure why she thinks it is a secret.  But she does.  So she was playing coy around the dresses.

Kelly, on the other hand, was more than happy to jump into a Vera Wang number and do some impromptu modeling.

And like any good model, she wasn’t wearing any underwear.  Thanks for sharing, Kelly.

All I could think of were all the girls who make that mad dash during those Running of the Brides Wedding Dress Sales, and frantically pull the gowns over their heads in a race to find The Dress.

Yeah.  You just think about that one for a minute.  And then think about it some more, and then cover that stuff up.  That’s just nasty.

As Kelly was proving that you don’t need panties to be a blushing bride, Jill was finally arriving at Candy Apple’s in a scene that was part child hostage situation/part Kids from Fame.  Cathy could still smell Abby’s scent on Kendall as she greeted them in her creepy, lick your face kind of way.  She didn’t.  But I thought she was going to for sure.

It was those hyenas from Lion King again.  Just circling and smelling you.

Let’s be real.  Even if Kendall had shown up on crutches, doped out on children’s cough medicine and wearing an eye patch Cathy would have put her on the team.  It’s Cathy.  And she wants to stick it to Abby.  Even if that means using kids as pawns.

And it does.

But let’s talk about those Candy Apple’s Dance Moms.  I know, right?

Love.  Them.

It’s like someone drove around picking up Moms at random Walmarts and then suddenly changed their mind and went to that store that only sells hair dye and biker chick stuff.

That red haired Mom is still bad a**.  She will cut you in a heartbeat, in her off the shoulder Flashdance shirt, and not even blink those jet black lined eyeballs.

Plus they have snacks.  Sparkling apple cider and a veggie platter.  Even in a blizzard.

Cathy gave Kendall a solo in the Pittsburgh show, which would put her up against Nia in their age category.  Let the drama unfold.

Jill filled her purse with carrot sticks and cheese slices and hit the road, gloating in her victory against Abby.  Kendall finally has the solo and attention that Jill has been trying to get for her, and they also got free cider.  Life is good.

On Competition Day Chaos Cathy and her Mom Squad strutted down the hallway like WWE wrestlers going into the Ring.  When they came face to face with Abby and her Posse, they were ready to rumble.

Between that fake leopard Wilma Flintstone jacket that one of Cathy’s Moms was working (…she may be my new second favorite, after the bad a** one…) and Abby’s little dog in his pink stroller, I thought my head was going to explode.

Everyone got all “What the? Who the? Oh Hell No” all over each other.  Trust me.  It’s a DVR keeper.

Did I mention Abby’s dog only travels in a baby stroller?  A pink one?

This whole event was just asking for trouble.  And trouble showed up.

Nia’s solo was great.  Holly totally swiped the crown off Christi’s head during that one.  She was beaming.

Kendall pushed all of Abby’s buttons by doing Abby’s choreography, while wearing Abby’s costume and breathing Abby’s air.  That didn’t go over too well.

The Wedding Dance was all good.  No guns this week.

The Candy Apple’s troupe did a dark, moody Funeral Dance, complete with casket.  Cathy probably dug it up with her bare hands.

As they did during the last competition, to skew the age category down a few notches, Cathy had daughter Vivi-Anne and her little red haired buddy run around the stage while the older dancers did the actual dancing part of the number.  Last competition Cathy let them toss Vivi-Anne around like a Whole Foods potato sack.  This time at least she let her get some exercise and run around on her own.

I say it every time, but I swear that kid goes to bed wearing glitter eye shadow.  Her Princess Ariel pillow must be a hot mess when the alarm goes off.

There was more crying when Nia lost out to Kendall in the solo category.  But the Wedding Dance beat out the Funeral Dance, which rubbed Cathy the wrong way again.

Finally, in the Be Careful What You Wish For category, Cathy presented Jill with her honorary Candy Apple’s BeDazzled denim jacket.  The thing had more bling than a hip hop hoochie on a Friday night, and was made out of that pale blue denim they only use for elastic waist Mom jeans.

Yeah.  It was as pretty as it sounds.

That should look nice with your fur vest and Snookie poof down at the Galleria.

Jill’s fake smile said it all.

It’s on, bitches.