Posts Tagged ‘Dance Moms Melissa’s Fiance Greg’

Dance Moms: Now You See Her. Now You Don’t. Where Is Abby This Week? And Who’s Running The Show Here?

Wednesday, August 21st, 2013

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Oh hey, Girlfriend. Come on in. Just giving myself a keratin treatment and eating that big a** plate of Dunkin’ Donuts back there.

 

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I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do? I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do? I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do?

 

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Pardon me, Ma’am. Is this seat taken? I’d kinda like to see what it feels like to sit with winners for a change. You mind?

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Excuse me all to Hell for not coughing up $1,000 for a damn dance class. These weaves ain’t cheap.

 

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Bitch, please. I know synthetic when I see it. And the tag goes in the back. Lawd.

 

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Seriously? Do you really have to pose in every outfit? I’m pretty sure everyone knows by now that you’re the Hot Mom.

 

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Friends don’t let friends drink and drive.  Or ugly cry in high definition.

 

 

 

 

Sound the alarm.

Release the bloodhounds.

And straighten your feet for crying out loud.

Nobody panic, but Pittsburgh is going on lockdown.  The inmates are running the prison.

If you’re the kind of person who looks for the most bang from your buck, you definitely got your money’s worth this week.  Dance Moms had pretty much everything that you love to hate about the show all stuffed into one jam packed hour.  Mama Drama, tears, hilarity, hysteria, loads of sassy smack talk…and even a few moments of actual dancing.

The only thing they didn’t seem to have was anyone in charge.

That’s right.  For the second week in a row, the ALDC bus was speeding downhill with no brakes and no driver as Abby Lee Miller remained mysteriously absent for the majority of the episode, appearing and disappearing into the shadows like some kind of plus sized Ninja warrior whenever the mood felt right.

The general consensus between all the Moms was that Abby had taken time off to be with her ailing mother, though there were lingering questions regarding a Starpower judging opportunity, some random party girl Instagram postings and that mysterious “Mandy” who kept answering Abby’s cell phone whenever they called.

So basically, no one had any idea what was going on.

Leave it to Melissa to get to the bottom of things.  Before breakfast.

In what was clearly supposed to be a surprise drop-in visit over at Abby’s house (…“Melissa?  Is that you?  Oh, heeeeey”…) Maddie‘s Mom showed up unannounced to check in on Abby and find out what was really going on.  Except that the camera guy clearly beat her to it and was already filming Abby piling up a mound of donuts by the time she got there.

Yeah.  I’m thinking it wasn’t much of an unannounced drive-by unless the camera guy just happened to come over early to help Abby condition her hair.  Some dudes are into that kind of thing I suppose.

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And can we talk about how many donuts were on that plate?

Portion control, honey.  You don’t want to slip into a diabetic coma and be found on the floor still wearing that blinged out towel head wrap.

I still can’t decide whether Abby reminded me of a fortune teller or the Head of that Witches Counsel they used to always show on Bewitched or one of those crazy Boca ladies who go out in their housecoats to get the mail and when you look through the open door you always see The Price Is Right on the television and about 15 cats.

There was a lot going on in that little kitchen.

Melissa pleaded her case to get Abby back to the studio before the upcoming Nationals, but she didn’t do very well.  Abby wanted to be close to her mother and as far away as possible from Kelly and her two kids now that they had snuck back into the ALDC.

After getting confirmation that Maddie would (…naturally…) get a chance to dance at Nationals and then stuffing a few Bavarian Cremes in her purse, Melissa was on her way.

Back at the studio, choreographer Gianna was large and in charge for a second week and ready to bring home another win.  She knew that the gang would be heading to Charleston, WV for another Masters of Dance Competition, but she didn’t know if Abby would be tagging along or not.

She also knew that Chloe was doing a solo this week, Asia was going to eat Mackenzie alive in a dueling divas duet and that the group routine was going to be amaze balls.

As the girls all got to rehearsing and the Moms headed upstairs, we scooted up to Ohio to check in with the Candy Apples and see what evil comic book plot Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein was hatching this week.

That momentary spike in the Twitterverse that may or may not have slowed down your laptop right around this point was the return of Zack Torres.

That’s right, girls.  You can start screaming now.  It’s a full blown Zack Attack!

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Now that Anthony Burrell had apparently separated himself from the Candy Apples and would no longer be forcing any more boys into inappropriate Pinocchio high kicks in Richard Simmons shorty shorts, the coast was clear for Zack to return.

And now that he was back, just the thought of Zack and Lady Killer Lucas Triana one-legging it together on stage pretty much gave Cathy the vapors.  She may have even wet herself a little, but they only shot her from the waist up so I can’t be certain.

Chaos Cathy unveiled her Apple TV power point pyramid, which is always too hard for me to figure out since it kind of goes in an odd circle instead of just up and down like Abby’s Pyramid of Shame.  All that really matters is that Lucas was on top of the apple tree and his Danny Zuko from Grease headshot pretty much always gives me life.

Rama Lama Ding Dong.

Cathy also called out Nicaya for not being as well trained as the other dancers and then we got to watch Mom Kaya get all hood rat about the high price of tap class.

Will someone please get this bitch her own show or do I have to post for some Kickstarter funding on my own?  Seriously.

In my head, Kaya and Kristie Ray share an apartment like Laverne & Shirley and just go around the country smacking people around all day.  Could you die?

I’ll let you know when my pilot gets the green light.  It’s gonna be awesome sauce.

Cathy had seen on social media (…that’s what it’s called, you know…) that Chloe would be doing a solo in Charleston, so she was going to put Zack up against her on stage.

She claimed that Chloe was not as good a dancer as she used to be, which I assumed was a reference to her days of dancing in a dress made out of cold cuts and jerky meat.

It’s a shame to peak at such a young age.

Back in Pittsburgh, the Moms were once again voicing their concern that Abby should be on site helping them get ready for the end of the dance season and not hiding out God knows where.

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Melissa’s selective memory also resurfaced as she got a little foggy on whether or not Abby had actually mentioned anything about Maddie getting a solo at Nationals.

Of course she did.

Somewhere around this point I also lost track of how many OhHellNo faces Holly had made thus far in the episode.  I was really trying to count them because I had a good feeling that this week was going to break all the records and I thought there might be an online contest later, but Girlfriend was busting that shiz out so fast I couldn’t keep up.

Oh snap.

I’m pretty sure they also spliced in a bunch of old scenes between Christi and Kelly again, because everything they said about Abby and the kids we’ve already heard a million times.  Even the fat jokes were last week’s fat jokes.  Time for some new shtick.

Up in Ohio, that cow with the #20 ear tag was back stealing the opening scene as crazy faced Yvette tried to help Cathy with choreography.

And by ‘help’ I mean walking that fine Yvette line between assisting someone with a group number and actually climbing up a ladder and putting your own damn name on the outside of the building.

Dial it down a notch, sistah.  The building’s not on fire.

Yvette also started bringing back her patented t-shirt catch phrases that first made her a star on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.

Remember last year when she first unleashed her krazy on all of us and every sentence was nothing but “Dance for the Cause, NOT the Applause” or “Tap it don’t Slap it” or “Asia’s Mom’s a Total Bitch?”

Remember all that hilarity?  Well…it’s back.  So get used to it.

And you know what else was back?

The Abby-nator!

I know, right?  About time.

Abby strolled into the ALDC like nothing had ever happened, bullied Paige and Brooke a little and then took a few Christi F-bombs right in the face.

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There was a big argument regarding who broke the ALDC contract the most by swearing or not showing up or blah blah blah.  They even pointed out that the ALDC legal paper mumbo jumbo said something about creating a ‘nourishing’ environment, which I think was supposed to have been ‘nurturing’ environment, unless there is an actual cafeteria on the premises.

That part got a little weird.  Read the fine print, ladies.

Luckily, it was National Exposed Shoulder Week and all the Moms were rocking those cold shoulder tops that they make such a big deal about on QVC, so that distracted me from all the swearing.

I’m not lying.  Go back and look at how many of the ladies were showing skin.  And they were totally pissed that only my girl Kristie knew how to do it like they show in Cosmo.

Haters.

As both teams finished up rehearsals before the Big Day, it was clear that Hadley didn’t use enough sunscreen last weekend and that Asia was gonna turn Kenzie out like that fourth member of Destiny’s Child that nobody remembers.

Love you Mackadoodle, but you should probably just stick to clown noses and pigtails.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And a CNN report on the bloody riots in the streets of Egypt.

Which turned out to be a false alarm, because it was actually just the ALDC and the CADC contingents coming face to face in a sign-holding, parking lot screaming match that looked like one of those housekeeper rallies gone bad.

When Kristie got accused of touching Cathy I died.  Right there on my couch.  I died.

I can’t even imagine sitting in the back seat with Kristie when she was little on long family vacation rides to the Grand Canyon.

I’m touching you.  Quit it.  I’m touching you.  Quit it.  Mom!

That Dilbert guy from Candy Apples didn’t stand a chance once those earrings got flapping and Kristie did her now infamous bad a** mime hands all up in his grill.

I’ll say it again.  Once that ponytail starts whipping around it looks like the final battle scene from The X-Men.  Let’s go!

Love.  Her.

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Ninja Abby no-showed, by the way.  Go figure.

Inside, I don’t know if it was planned or not, but there was a space between the seats that allowed all of America to see Kristie’s fashion model legs.  Like they used to do with Mary Hart on Entertainment Tonight with that awkward crotch light.

It was a total NeNe Leakes shiny leg Watch What Happens Live moment.  Dang, girl.

It should probably also be noted that poor Jill, on the other hand, was wearing a floor length maxi-dress with four rows of folding movie chairs in front of her.  Just saying.

All the dancing was pretty good.  Zack and Lucas had no shirt on again.  I’m not sure if Lucas even owns one or if he just keeps forgetting his backpack in Miami.

Christi spent the remainder of the show screaming like some drunk chick at Mardi Gras trying to score plastic jewelry in exchange for a quick flash of her t***s.  Really.  She did.

Throw me some beads, Mister!

Out in the hallway all the Moms met up again, and somehow Mom Gina #2 made it sound like Cathy did all the choreography and inadvertently dissed Yvette in front of all the ALDC peeps.

Meltdown in 3…2…1…

Yvetter lost her nutty and got way too close to my television screen.  Waaaaay too close.

When it was all said and done, Abby’s team won all the good stuff.  Which, if you do the math, meant that the Candy Apples team didn’t.

More tears.  More dramz.

With only a few weeks left until Nationals, there was still no Abby…and not much of a chance that anyone in Ohio needed to buy any bus tickets in the near future.

Candy Apples was in shambles and the ALDC was missing it’s Leader.

Now what?

Raise your hands if you can’t wait to find out what happens next week…

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Dance Moms Reunion Part One: The Real Housewives Of Pittsburgh Are Back To Stir Up More Mama Drama.

Wednesday, May 8th, 2013

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I would have called you sooner, but you know I don’t get cell service inside that damn karaoke bar.

 

 

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That’s it. I’m outta here. Nobody talks to me like that while there’s a full table of snacks out back. Mama needs a nosh.

 

 

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If I wasn’t wearing my Spanks right now I’d be all up in that chick’s grill.

 

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I have no idea where the exits are located. I’m literally trapped in here with these crazy hens. Realz.

 

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And then I went like this, and used my psychic maternal healing power to cure Mackenzie’s f***d up toe.

 

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Bitch. Please.

 

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And then they bring in this hot new Mom with giant earrings and boobs out to here. So not fair.

 

 

And here we go again, folks.

Grab a cocktail, or two or ten, and settle in for another Dance Moms Reunion.

The Real Housewives of Pittsburgh were back this week to rehash the latest round of studio stress and dancing dramz, in what was either a season ending get together, a mid-season filler, or simply an excuse to put on fancy dress up clothes and get out of doing housework again.

Your guess is as good as mine.

As you can tell, I’m not really clear on how they work this whole scheduling thing out since the show is already advertising next month’s June Premiere.  (Set your DVRs and plug in the blender.)  So it’s not like they’re getting a full Summer hiatus like CSI and then coming back, months from now, with a two page spread in that special edition of TV Guide.

Like I’ve said before, it’s probably more like a month off from filming just to wash out some leotards and detox all the alcohol out of their system before the next round of competition.  You need to be on your game when it’s time for Nationals.

Regardless, they were back.  And back in that odd little basement studio with the bad lighting and Mardi Gras beads.

I know, right?  I don’t get it, either.

With all the money that Dance Moms and Jane Seymour movies bring in for Lifetime, I still can’t figure out what they’re all doing down there.  It’s almost like some youtube wannabe had booked that studio for the day, but finished early and offered up the same set to the Dance Moms people since it was already paid for through midnight.

And remember last time, at the Fall Reunion (…as opposed to whatever this one is called…) when they classed it up and all sat in those Andy Cohen knock-off couches like the New Jersey ladies?  Granted, instead of Bellagio chandeliers they had a lot of HomeGoods knick knacks cluttering up the joint.  But it was still a couch.

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I dunno.  Maybe the Spring version goes in the basement, and the real end of the season one gets a couch.  If I don’t even understand the difference between technical and artistic scores, I can’t be expected to figure out the intricacies of studio rental fees.

Anyway.

As always, my boy Jeff Collins was back to host and squirm and change subjects on a dime.  He cracks me up.  But in a good way.  We’re tight, you know.

Just by the look on his face, it’s pretty clear that way back on that historic day when he first dreamed up the whole Dance Moms concept (…while listening to some Broadway musical soundtrack on one of those radios that you can take in the shower, no doubt…) Jeff never thought that years later, he’d actually have to be the one sitting in a dark, windowless room with all these crazies.

Watch him, and then tell me he doesn’t look like the commander of some submarine who can’t open the escape hatch in an emergency.

Love me those Dance Moms.

For you technical types who are into this kind of thing, I should also note that this year the production people have been busting out that two camera confessional shot a lot.

You know the one.  The one where sometimes the person is looking right into the camera and yakking, and then sometimes they are shot slightly from the side looking off into space.

Which I guess works for MasterCard commercials and The Real World when trashy chicks get totally wasted, but on Dance Moms it tends to look like they don’t know which camera has the flashing red light.

Just saying.

Abby Lee Miller was first on the scene, of course, and played a little word association with Mr. Collins to loosen everybody up before the good stuff.

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After dissing Melissa a bit, they called her out from the Green Room, which seemed to catch one of the crew members completely off guard and sent him racing onto the set with her booster seat.  On camera.  Get off Facebook and pay attention, dude.  We only have the studio until midnight.

Melissa talked about her wedding.  The Wedding.  Which was secret, and then wasn’t, and then happened so fast that none of the other Moms even showed up for the event.

Melissa admitted to trying to get the nuptials televised, but her previously married, then still married while dating, then divorced and now newlywed-ed (…did I just make up a new word?…) Greg Gisoni didn’t want cameras at the blessed event.

So William and Kate got all the Royal coverage, while Melissa and Greg just signed some papers in the living room, took a few iPhone movies and called it a day.

As much as I love me some Jeff Collins, his transitional questioning still leaves a little to be desired.

Moving On.  Anyway.  Changing Gears.  He’s like that kid in junior high that starts talking about his World of Warcraft character’s wicked awesome weaponry arsenal for no reason at all while you’re in the middle of discussing how your BFF just texted your boyfriend while you were at cheer practice.

Pump the brakes, man.  Don’t slam ’em or somebody might get hurt.

All of the sudden he cuts off Melissa and asks Abby about the time that Holly called her a Monstrosity of Evil.  Which was classic, I’ll give him that one.  Classic.  But Melissa wasn’t done raving about her kids.

After announcing on national television that Holly had cankles, Abby and Jeff welcomed Nia‘s Mom (…and her allegedly fat shoe toppers…) to the studio audience.

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Once again, Holly showed amazing posture and her Proud Mama Face.  In three seasons I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman slouch in her seat.  Unfortunately, she barely had time to discuss Nia’s RND symptoms before you could hear Kelly and Christi scratching at the back door.

Let’s get this party started.

Apparently, Kelly and Christi still had some outstanding issues regarding the breakdown of their friendship earlier in the season.  Or they were having a 6th grade cafeteria fight over who stole who’s Justin Bieber glitter stickers .  It was hard to tell.

You didn’t call me.  Na Huh…yes I did.  No you didn’t.  I called you three times.  Melissa said out by the monkey bars that you called from her house, which is a lie.  No way, I did call.  Ask her.  Melissa says you always make s*** up.  Yeah, well Melissa is a big poopie head.

Keep in mind that their entire falling out this season was based on Chloe not being able to keep a Bob Fosse hat on her head.  Or something.  I forget.  But being blessed with a massive Pez Head myself, I feel your pain, sistah.

Then all of the sudden while Christi was blowing off steam, Abby walked off the set like she had left her baby in the car.

That’s it.  She’s done.  Outie.

Someone say Snacks in the Green Room?  Thanks for playing.

Before Kelly and Christi went face down in the sandbox, Jeff dripped a little flop sweat and called for Jill, who proudly sashayed out completely Bump-It-Free and no longer sounding like some Cougar waiting for the pool boy to show up with his massive…ummm…pool swabbing stick.

Bow Chick A Vertes.

As long as Jill swears to never Gangnam Style again, we’re good.

Jeff ground his gears again and asked Kendall‘s Mom about all those secret private lessons and her water balloon fight with Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein.

I’m starting to think those two women don’t along very well.

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Then it was a Momapalooza as all the Dance Moms lined up their high chairs and started talking over each other.

We relived the Tribute Dance for dead puppy Broadway Baby, the lack of formal invitations to Melissa’s wedding and Mackenzie’s on again/off again mystery foot ailment.

Melissa actually choked on it for a second and admitted that she regretted using a dead dog in her master plan to regain First Place positioning on the Mom Pyramid, and then danced around the whole foot thing again.

Jill stood up for Mackawhacka’s seniority when it came to dancing on The View, even with a hot mess of a toe, while Christi insisted that the whole thing was still a set up to prevent the little nugget from having to go head to head against Miss SassyPants Asia the week prior.

Trust me, I would back my car right up over my own foot before I’d twerk a booty pop against that tiny firecracker.  Monet Ray?  Oh Hey.

And then Jeff asked “Who wants to talk about Cathy?”

Well, yeah…duh…I raised my hand, but I’m not sure he could really see me.  That might only work on Romper Room through the magic mirror.

(Look it up, kids.  It’s a hilarious reference for us old timers.)

And then with a puff of smoke, Chaos Cathy burst up through the Yellow Brick Road to terrorize all the dancing Munchkins.

Cathy immediately started waving her award-winning jerky in everyone’s face, claiming that Abby was jealous of the Candy Apples.  Abby countered with some whacked out story about pent up water pressure accidentally forcing the cap off her Poland Springs bottle during the infamous backstage Slip ‘N Slide throw down.

Seriously.  She did.

Sorry, but unless that 16 oz piece of plastic was attached to a working city fire hydrant, I’m gonna have to give this round to Cathy.  Nice try, though.

Then it was a discussion about choreographer Anthony Burrell calling out Paige from the audience during her group dance performance last week, which crumbled into an argument on what dance teachers can and can not say under the legal guidelines for “critiquing.”

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The short version was that you can publicly make fun of a kid, but not call their Mom a Bitch unless you really want to go there.

According to Abby, somehow during the water fight, Cathy’s tiny little purse had managed to find its way to the back of Abby’s head, causing immediate bruising, emotional duress and something that probably sounded like Julia Child tenderizing a juicy slab of raw beef.  And there were photos to prove it.

Yeah.  Melissa drew the short straw and had to snap a few shots of Abby’s bare, battered (…bare battered, not beer battered…) back, which I’m totally Googling after I’m done writing this.

Can you even imagine?

I should also point out that throughout the Reunion Show there were random questions from audience members, who I’m going to assume had either won a contest or drawn a lucky number out of one of those hats that kept falling off the kids’ heads all season.

I don’t how that worked either.  But that shizzle is totally going on Instagram, you know that.  Because they were darn excited to be in the basement in the presence of such dancing awesomeness.  Except for a few Dads who appeared to have either lost a bet or needed to be there in exchange for who knows what kind of future favors.

Jeff also tossed in some dance numbers whenever he needed a drink to sooth his nervously dry mouth.

The last routine was a group number.  Complete with Miss SassyPants herself…Asia!

So you know what that meant, right?  Do the math.  That meant that her Mom JLo was somewhere in the building.

Boom!  Kristie with a K was in the hizzle!

I could just feel it already.  And it gave me life.

Because.  We.  Love.  Her.

But then it was over.  Until next week, anyway.

Part Two.

When this happens, mmmkay?:

Let’s Go, Bitches.

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Dance Moms: If You’re Gonna Talk The Smack Talk, You Better Walk The Drag Queen Walk. It’s Time To Werk.

Wednesday, April 17th, 2013

 

 

Seriously? He’s a psychic podiatrist? And now your kid is all better, and that’s really your natural hair color? Pleez.

 

 

 

 

Just like those are your real eyelashes. And your kid’s a big playground bully.

 

 

 

 

Keep it up. Soon as I finish my Starbucks, somebody’s gonna be picking all their extensions up off the floor, sister.

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch, pleez. I used to be the pretty one.

 

 

 

 

 

Lawd. Give me the strength to not go all Jenny Knock Yo’ Block Off on some of these Bingo Ladies right now.

 

 

 

 

This is really my life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod! We’re not the craziest ones anymore! Shotskis!

 

 

 

Hi.  Thanks for coming.

And now…The Pyramid of Shame.

Boom.  Zoom.  Meow.

That’s pretty much how it went down on the latest episode of Dance Moms.

Abby Lee Miller got right to bidnezz before the opening credits even finished rolling this time around, because after coming in 2nd Place last week (…which, as foretold in the ancient Dance Scriptures, is always the First Loser…) she was not in the mood for games.  Or all the smack talk that was just about to be unleashed.

The ALDC had not only been beaten out of the top spot, but they had been beaten out of the top spot by several dance teachers that Abby did not even know.  Strangers.

So it was time to put the pressure on, starting with the required reveal of the latest Seriously…Maddie Again? Pyramid of Shame.

Bottom row was looking pretty familiar.  Mackenzie, Paige and Kendall.

MackNapSack was still on the ground floor because she had not danced in last week’s competition, thanks in part to whatever it was that was going on with her foot that day.

Nobody really seemed to know what the dealio was with her doinked up foot anymore except that she was originally told by some mysterious unnamed doctor to not dance for two weeks.  Unless she was somehow immaculately, miraculously cured of all ailments earlier than expected, of course.

Then it would be ok to dance.  Hold that thought.

Paige was back on the bottom because she held the American flag upside down at the end of the patriotic group dance and apparently almost ignited an enemy invasion of our shores, even though the jury is still out on whether or not it was really Asia‘s fault for getting the thing all goobed up on Paige’s head during the hand-off.  That one will probably end up in some dead file with all the other unsolved dance mysteries, because nobody could agree on a verdict.

And, of course, Brooke was hanging low again because she’s Brooke. Not to mention the whole Mom Kelly thing and the fact that Brooke seems to be phoning in her participation lately.  Which is probably pretty easy to do, considering that she never looks up from that hot pink Barbie iPhone when she’s off the dancefloor.

OMG.  Boys.  LOL.  Boys.  TTFN.  Send.

Second tier was all about Chloe, Nia and the aforementioned Asia.  They all did a great job at the last competition and got rave reviews, but 2nd row is basically just an FAA holding pattern to allow AirMaddie to zoom past, land and then taxi up to the best spot on the tarmac.

And she did.  Maddie was at the top of the Pyramid again. Yadda yadda yadda.

This week, providing the gang could get their shizzle together and focus, they would all be heading to Youngstown, OH for the Energy Dance Competition.  That’s the competition with that gigantic projected backdrop featuring the silhouette of a dancer that looks like some five year old took his Crayola and traced over a map of Italy.

Seriously.  What is that?

As Abby was about to hand out solos and such, she noticed that MackSlap wasn’t wearing her air cast.  And wasn’t she supposed to be chillin’ like a villain off that thing for a full two weeks?

Sounding like she got caught sucking on a giant Gobstopper jawbreaker, tiny MackSplat said that she felt better and that yes…no…maybe…she had been to the doctor again and he might have said it was probably definitely could be ok to do stuff.

Really.  She gave all those answers at once.  Like Jodie Arias, but without the fake glasses and the headstand.  Don’t get me started on that one.

Melissa came to her defense.  Kinda.  Sorta.

Yes, they had seen the doctor.  But no, they hadn’t.  And he said it was ok if she felt better, because a 7 year old always knows more about juvenile podiatry than someone who went to med school.  The doctor had even somehow managed to x-ray MackSmack’s gimp foot simply by having Melissa press the phone receiver up against her leg and count to 30.  You have to admire the advances in modern medicine.

I don’t know.  It was so jumbled I just went and got a snack.  If you DVRed the episode and plan on watching it later, right now is when you can go to the refrigerator and not miss anything.

Maddie and Chloe scored solos.  Nia and Asia, Fierce 1 & Fierce 2, were matched up in a duet.  Both of them.  Together.

Can I get a Halleloooo from the congregation?

The group number was entitled Hear No Evil (…as in: ‘Don’t listen to any of your Moms’ crap’…) but Maddie wouldn’t be participating.  She would be assisting with the choreography.  Which was somehow different than being an Assistant Choreographer.

Don’t ask.

The assignment immediately opened up a whole can of whoop a** MomWorms in the MomPerch.  Let the games begin.

If Abby really felt that the rest of the girls were dragging Maddie down, then why doesn’t she just move the Golden Child on up to the Senior Group and be done with it?  And if Maddie is really the team leader, why pull her out of a number and set the rest of the dancers up for guaranteed failure?  And what’s the freakin’ difference between assisting and being an Assistant, anyway? And why is Asia having so much trouble keeping up with the tall kids?

And most importantly, why are some of Kristie with a K‘s earring so small this week?

Unacceptable.

Then it was time for this week’s classic Leave It To Christi Moment:

Yo.  Melissa.  Sup?  How’d your kid’s foot get better so fast?  It’s like freakin’ magic or something.  Thought she was busted up, yo.

Oh, snap.

She rested it.  You made it up.  She feels better.  You lie.  No I didn’t.  She’s just scared of competing with the big kids.  No, she’s not.  Yes, she is.  You lie.  Oh, yeah?  Well, I hate your hair that way.

Luckily, Abby received a call from one of Barbara Walters‘ bitches down at ABC before all the Moms could pig pile on top of Melissa for (…allegedly…) lying about her age, her taxes and her kid’s toe.

Abby, decked out in some seriously bedazzled red crystal jewelry, including what was either one of those Joan Rivers QVC Christmas Cardinal bird bracelets or a pair of Mob Wives lips cast straight from Big Ang‘s face, had been invited to cohost The View!

In New York City!

I know, right?  Where’s Star Jones when you need her?  Can you imagine that throw down?  Babs also wanted Abby to bring along the girls and present one of their award winning routines for everyone at home to see.

Somebody must have then realized that nobody had done much actual rehearsing, because all of the sudden everyone got back to their routines.

Can I just take a second to mention how much I used to love that sloppy, graffiti bench that Abby always sits on during rehearsals?  It’s total sixth grade drama club prop, and always looks like the paint is still wet.

This week I finally figured out that up on the left side somewhere it says “Text Me” with what must be an actual phone number, because sometimes the producers blur it like they do a crackhead’s eyes during a trailer park bust on COPS.

For three seasons I thought it said “Eat Me” and that they were pixelating out something really good.  But no such luck.  False alarm…turn the trucks around.  It’s just a phone number.  Not so fascinated anymore.

Anyway.

Abby decided that for The View, they would present “The Last Text.”  That’s the dance where Paige drives a car into a telephone pole because she’s not paying attention to the road, and little MackYak backflips through the window and bleeds out on the stage because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt while screwing off on a cell phone.

Except that this time it looked like it might be Asia who would be catapulting out the passenger side, because Mack was supposed to stay off that foot, despite her suddenly excellerated mutant healing factor.  Needless to say, the chance to dance in NYC opened up the MomWorms again and Melissa got (bleeped) out a few times.

No.  I don’t believe you.  And I will call the F***ing doctor myself.  Bitch.

Somewhere amidst all the accusations, Brooke met with a voice coach to talk about her singing career and get some pointers before they all went to NYC.  Well, actually Mom and the voice coach did all the talking.  Brooke just phutzed with her iPhone (…one of my biggest pet peeves EVER…) and didn’t even look at up the coach.  Maybe she was just rehearsing the group dance in her head.  Who knows with that kid.

And the coach’s name was Hilerie.  For realz.  Spelled like she was some kind of Toddlers & Tiaras wannabe, or something.

With one day to go before the competition, it was getting a little stressful up in the MomPerch.  And stress always makes for good TV.

According to outside sources, Maddie had allegedly let all that new assistant power go right to her head and taken both her newfound authority and her favorite Unicorn Trapper Keeper right up to Asia and told her that she would not be performing on The View next week.  At least that was the word on the street.

Melissa said it never happened, but now that you mention it…Asia is being a totally sissy pants bully to Mackenzie and got caught dropping a construction block from the roof of the ALDC right on to little Mack’s bumb leg.

And then JLo’s eyes got really, really crazy wide like they do right before her earrings start flapping.  Love.  Her.

JLo accused Melissa of being passive/aggressive.  Melissa got all passive/aggressive and denied it.  JLo called the whole sore toe thing a big charade.  Fingers and eyeballs and earrings were flying everywhere.

In other developments, Christi seemed pretty normal this week and Kelly finally realized that you could fill a water bottle with vodka and nobody would even know the difference.

The only thing that could possibly top all the smack talk this week was Abby’s already infamous Drag Queen Walk.

In an attempt to inspire Nia and Asia to Fierce Greatness, Abby showed the two little niblets how to drag walk in their routine.  No, really.  She did.  Like a Boss.

Picture Bette Midler and The Penguin from the second Batman movie having an illegitimate son who eventually grows up to perform with a Las Vegas touring company that only does cruise ships.  Over accessorized with duct tape on his nibblies, of course.

It was like that.  And it pretty much gave me life.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Chloe and Maddie both aced their solos.  Maddie looked like one of those plastic ballerina cake toppers you buy at iParty and Chloe’s legs actually grew another inch during the performance.  Slo-Mo the tape and I swear you’ll see it right before your very eyes, like a garden bean.

If you read the program, there were supposed to be approximately 14 numbers performed before the duet hit the stage, so naturally Nia and Asia were called up right after the solos.  Unstretched, unrehearsed and barely duct taped.

But they werked it out like two Real Housewives of Atlanta hairdressers in Reynolds Wrap Lost In Space uniforms, Miss Thang, and made Shangela proud.

Maddie gave a quick Super Bowl motivational speech to the team and then sent everyone out onto the field for the group dance, which they nailed.

As a result, the ALDC pretty much owned the awards ceremony.

Special shout out to the dude tossing tee shirts and who-knows-what into the audience like he worked at Fenway Park.  I’ll take a size medium shirt and a size large ball park frank over here, please.

After the competition, there was just enough time to run through next week’s NYC routine so Abby could finally decide which little kid would get to throw herself out the window and into the national spotlight.

And the winner is:

Psych.  You wish.

You’ll find out when Barbara Walters finds out.

To be continued…


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