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.

 

 

Pittsburgh, can you handle this? I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly.

 

 

 

 

 

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. Pow! Pow!

 

 

 

 

I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m sure it’s completely age inappropriate.

 

 

 

 

 

I guess they didn’t want to pay the premium rate for the six pack abs.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh yeah. That’s the stuff Mommy likes.

 

 

 

I’m not even sure where to start.

This week Dance Moms had a little something for everyone, especially if you are a big fan of under age Las Vegas showgirls, slightly doughy strippers who masquerade as HVAC techs or seriously bad western decor.

If you also happen to eat dehydrated red meat, then you really scored.

And if you are one of the dozen or so viewers who actually tune in to see…I don’t know, dancing maybe…they even threw in a few minutes of contemporary lyrical something something, just to keep everyone happy.

Let’s start at the beginning before my head explodes.

Fresh off their victory at the Fire & Ice Dance Competition, where Abby Lee Miller and her grammar school brides took first place, everyone was back at the ALDC Mothership to regroup and see how the infamous Let Me Guess…Brooke And Paige Are On The Bottom Again Pyramid of Shame panned out this week.

What a surprise.  Perky Paige was at the bottom, along with her sister born with no smile muscles, Brooke.  (I may be psychic.  Just putting that out there.)

After Mom Kelly did her weekly eye roll over the Pyramid results, we learned that Paige was on the bottom because her arms weren’t doing whatever it is that dancers’ arms are supposed to be doing and she needs to fix that, asap.  Brooke was on the bottom because in her head she is starring in her own CW Network TV show and apparently is required to mope around full of teenage angst until someone gets up enough nerve to slap her so hard that she skips a grade.

Tiny Mackenzie was also on the bottom in order to give her more time to improve to the level that big sister Maddie was at when she was age 7.  She also needs more time to let her Big Girl teeth grow in, even though half her charm is her pumpkin smile.

Chloe and her tiny eyes were stuck on the second row.  She just looks so happy all the time that I want to hug her until her eyes pop out to normal size.  She’s just plain nice.

But nice doesn’t cut it when Abby wants more.  And more.

Divalicious Nia was keeping Chloe company on the middle row, basically to make room for Maddie on the top.

Since the Fire & Ice Competition was such a bit hit last week, the gang is headed back again.  Only this time it’s Fire & Ice Elite.  Only Big Dawgs need apply, thank you.

This round is strictly for the top of the heap, and since it was once again being held in their own backyard, Abby wanted to ramp up the challenge, push the boundaries and make it memorable.

And what is more memorable than naked showgirls?

Dat’s rite.  Naked.  Showgirls.  Little ones.

After two of the Moms spit their drinks out and one swallowed her gum, Abby explained the exotic Fan Dance and how she wants all her dancers classy, well respected and elegant.

And naked.

The girls got that nervous giggle that you get the first time the school nurse shows you those pamphlets, but they were up for the challenge.

As the Moms went up to that mysterious surgical viewing booth where they always go, Abby started the girls out on their Fan Dance rehearsal.  And that one just had to be seen to be believed.

With an uncomfortable combination of chain smoking, over-the-hill stripper and Tupperware Lady playing charades, Abby worked it and shook it and sliced & diced it until I was ready to toss a dollar bill up on stage just to make her stop.  She told the girls…and I quote, sort of…you want it, you can’t handle it, you can’t afford it, you can’t hold it in one hand, you could barely hold it in two, you didn’t take the garbage out, you wish you had some of this, you left the seat up…until the girls were shaking it like Cosby jello and the Moms were clutching rosary beads.

The fact that the first round of rehearsals were done without fans made it even more awkward, because there was nothing to hide their little junk trunks as they mimicked the moves.  If Abby hadn’t cut the practice short to let a few of the girls head home to sleep it off, I’m pretty certain Chris Hansen would have come in through that back door with a bowl of potato chips asking “Ahhh…so what are you doin’ here?”

Quick switch in scenes to No Man’s Land Ohio, home of the Evil Dance Lair, better known in the Yellow Pages as Candy Apple’s Dance Center.

Who knows what Evil lurks in Ohio this week?

Chaos Cathy Nesbitt is lounging in her Home Base of Operations, plotting her next revengeful attack on the Abby Lee Dance Company.  It was both informational and sensory overload, in the best comic book villain kind of way.  Ever.

Who knew that we would finally get to see Cathy’s husband Mike in action?  And that he was Canton’s King of Jerky?  Or Jerky King?  Or King of Jerking…or whatever his license plate says.

Who knew that attached to the side of the Evil Dance Lair was Tommy’s Jerky Outlet?  Ohio’s one-stop shop for your bulk jerky purchases and all the condiments that go with dried out meat?

And who knew Cathy liked bunnies so much?

Seriously.  Did you see that kitchen?  Bunny wallpaper border.  Bunnies on the counter.  Bunnies on the table.  Bunny cookie jars.  Bunny utensil holders.

Cathy totally has QVC on speed dial, because every piece of Spring Holiday s*** that crazy stepford wife Valerie sells was in that room.

Mike wants to expand his Jerky Empire, much like Darth Vader did with the Death Star, and he figured that he needed to advertise on TV.

I’ll spare you the boring stuff.

Turns out it’s expensive to make TV commercials and Cathy offers her services, since we all know that teaching 8 year olds how to jazz hand and putting glitter eye shadow on your daughter before breakfast qualifies anyone to work on Madison Avenue.  And, as everyone knows…any good jerky commercial needs dancing, so as part of her Master Plan to take down Abby Lee, Cathy thinks that Chloe would make a great lead for the commercial since she already has one music video under her belt.

Blah, blah, blah…Cathy calls Christi and somehow hypnotizes her through their blinged out cell phones into believing that this is a good idea that will end well.

The commercial was just a big Hot Country Mess.

When Chloe and Christi arrived at the Jerky Jamboree, Cathy had all her Candy Apple’s Dance Squad decked out in (candy apple) red cowgirl outfits…and one cowboy outfit for that goofy little red haired kid who runs around all the time.  Cathy’s daughter Vivi-Anne was also part of the party, even though she still seemed to be a little dopey from her allergy meds.

I may have to cut the girl a little slack, though, because I’m really starting to think that maybe it’s the four coats of heavy metallic eye shadow that makes her lids so droopy, and not just Nyquil.

Cathy had created her own version of the Lady Gaga Meat Dress for Chloe, since we also know that jerky commercials need to be edgy and current.  But time and budgetary constraints required that the Meat Dress be replaced with a one piece jerky catsuit kind of thing.  Think Project Runway if Tim Gunn took the designers to the Dean & Deluca deli counter instead of Mood.

You know those sticky lint rollers that they sell at the Dollar Store, that only randomly pick up bits and pieces of fuzz when you rub them around?  I know you do.

That’s pretty much what Chloe wore in the commercial.  A one piece lint roller with a few random chunks of beef jerky safety pinned to the front, stylishly accessorized with a necklace that dangled enough sausages to keep any junior high nerd telling dirty jokes on his Facebook page for the rest of the school year.

Is that sausage supposed to hit me in the chin when we dance?

That’s what she said.

Anyway.

While all this hysteria was taking place, Abby had received the shipment of pink fans and flesh colored pasties for the girls, and the Moms had decided to surprise Melissa with a stripper engagement party during the Fire & Ice Elite Competition.  Seems that even though Melissa still has not told anyone that she and her new BoyToy are making it official, everyone already knows and Kelly and Christi are horny enough to get the party started.

By the time they got to the competition, Holly had managed to finagle her way out of the stripper party by being the Mom in charge of hustling the kids out before it gets nasty.  PhD’s and lap dances don’t always mix too well, so she was more than happy to play babysitter.

But the naughty bits would have to wait until after the competition.

As the girls were putting on their faces and running the numbers one last time, Christi and Chloe gathered everyone around the laptop to show off the jerky commercial.  They had just received the email attachment from Cathy, and I didn’t have a good feeling about this one.

Poor little Chloe got played.  She got served.

The whole thing was a sham to humiliate Abby and Christi and anyone in the Abby Lee Miller orbit.  All of Chloe’s dancing was cut out, and the only thing that remained was a seductive pose in a Meat Onesie.

Egg on her face, and jerky between her legs.  And the tag line “No one jerks it like Tommy.”

Somewhere in the world a sausage fell off when the announcer made that claim to fame.

Chloe pulled herself together and danced her brains out, as did Maddie and all the FanDancers.

After the awards, where Maddie took home top honors and the naked showgirls didn’t even place, the Moms scooted everyone back to the makeup room for the surprise party.

In walks the dude who’s “working on the heat.”  In porn movies it’s the Cable Guy.  In Dance Mom Land it’s the Heating Guy, and Abby’s thermostat needed some tweaking.

Crank up the boom box.  It’s time to par-tay, bitches.

In a matter of seconds we learned that Abby really likes her strippers, and  that Cable Guys do more sit ups than Heating Guys.  By the time Abby was coated in sweat and confetti like a Paula Dean Mardi Gras ham, Melissa was mortified.  She finds strippers to be low class and trashy.  And she’s a classy lady.  Just ask the boyfriend she’s been sleeping with, he’ll tell you it’s true.

The only thing missing was whack job Jill and her poof.  The combination of Jill having another meltdown, strippers and all you can eat dried meat would have been TV gold.  She could throw shoes and beef jerky all over the place until the cows come home.

Careful you don’t poke an eye out with that sausage, honey.

That’s what she said.