Posts Tagged ‘Dance Moms Leslie’

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 Reunion Part One: The Real Housewives Of Pittsburgh Get All Dressed Up And Then Throw Down With Abby. Let The Craziness Begin.

Wednesday, September 19th, 2012



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.


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 KrazySeason 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.

Dance Moms: It’s My Nationals 90210, And I’ll Cry If I Want To. Abby And The ALDC Head To Beverly Hills For Some Dancing And Candy Apples Spanking.

Wednesday, September 12th, 2012



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.

%d bloggers like this: