DanThat'sCool!

 

 

You choose. Right or Left. Cuz one of them is about to slap your face, bitch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She is so lucky I don’t feel like getting my butt up off this comfy couch.

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t you worry, baby. I’m crazy enough for both of us. Trust me.

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t believe nobody told me this wasn’t Abby Lee Miller’s studio.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am just about to go all Miami Sound Machine Conga on her skinny a**.

 

 

 

 

Ladies and Gentlemen.

Children of all ages.

Step right up and witness the amazing Dance Moms: Miami Twisted Circus.

Three rings of Crazy, all for your viewing pleasure.

You’ll see Moms melting down, the World’s skinniest elementary school Mime and more questionably age inappropriate eye liner and makeup than you thought possible in one hour.

And you thought clowns were scary?

That’s right.  The circus came to town this week and plopped its tent right in the middle of the Stars Dance Studio parking lot.  Fresh off their trophy hogging trip to whatever the last competition was called, Victor and Angel already had their sights set on the upcoming Starbound Dance Competition down the street and around the corner in sunny Ft. Myers.

The last time around the dance crew had a pretty good showing, but they didn’t scarf up every single plaque and trophy on the back table.  So for Starbound everyone needed to ramp up their game.  And nothing says We’re Here To Wipe The Floor With The Rest Of You like a spooky Tim Burton number.

But before Victor could get into all the deets he had to bang out The List, because even if the studio springs a natural gas leak, nobody leaves until The List is revealed.

First on The List should have been an explanation as to why we are now in week #6 and they STILL can not find enough chairs for all the Moms to sit in during the big reveal.

Seriously.

If this is how it’s going to be, then I vote for just getting rid of all the chairs.  Lose ‘em.

Toss them in the dumpster or put them in storage for the Bob Fosse retrospective.  Make all the Moms stand up like that mean Abby Lee Miller does on her show.  It’s not like they aren’t all going to spend the rest of their studio time sitting down anyway.  After The List is done, the only time any of them get off their butts is to storm out the door in a DivaMom fit.  Am I wrong?

So get rid of them.  Thank you.

Lucas took the top spot on The List, thanks to last week’s high scoring duet with Mensa Girl Kimmy.  The little dude managed to channel his inner Luther and got down wid it in the romantic pairing which almost resulted in another notch on his tree house, if you know what I  mean.  He unleashed some serious Playah for a 9 year old.  He just cracks me up.

Since there is no such thing as a tie on The List, Kimmy was knocked to second place because she still needed to work on “letting go” and just being “in the dance.”  What she is missing in front teeth, Kimmy totally makes up for in technique and Spelling Bee awards.  But she still needs to just chill and enjoy The Dance.

Hovering helicopter Mom Ani immediately got a little on edge when  she heard that Victor wanted Kimmy to let go, because she likes her baby exactly the way she is right now.  If there was a way to stunt Kimmy’s growth that didn’t involve unfiltered cigarettes or reverse steroid shots, I’m almost certain that Ani would freeze-frame Kimmy at 9 years old and keep her in that pink bedroom forever.

After working this hard to formulate the perfect school girl specimen, the last thing Ani needs is to have Kimmy start letting go and risk  her finding out that most kids her age are still asleep at 4am.

Jessi was hanging out in the third spot.  Again, I thought it was because she insists on wearing those micro spandex tops every week, but turned out it was because she got beat in scores by the two 9 year olds.  Not cool, and Victor don’t play dat.

Sammy was in the fourth spot, mainly because I think they needed to make sure the last spot was left wide open for Hannah.

Poor Hannah.  She’s probably one of the most level headed people at that studio, and smart way beyond her years.  But she is saddled with her Mom Debi, who pops off anytime she thinks that someone is making a Fat joke.

I swear if one of the other Moms sunk underwater at the beach and didn’t resurface, Debi would assume the “blub blub blub” was a slam against her chubby kid and let the woman drown.  Especially if it was Abby.

But Hannah keeps plugging away each week, working hard at raising the level of her dancing and lowering the percentage of her carbs like a trooper.

Lucas and Kimmy each scored another solo thanks to their rankings on The List, which left Jessi, Sammy and Hannah in a trio.

Wait for it.  Wait for it…

BOOM!  The Susan Bomb goes off right on schedule.  I think it was actually the exact same time that it went off last week.  Pinpoint accuracy.

Coming dangerously close to blurting out that the fat kid and the slacker kid are going to bring her daughter Jessi down in the trio performance, Susan stormed out, leaving a jet stream trail of crazy smoke behind her as the door slammed shut.

After that overly dramatic performance, the boys laid down the law.  The next time roller coaster Susan walks out, Jessi needs to follow her and the two of them are more than welcome to enjoy the rest of their lives at a studio whose policies on maternal hissy fits are a little more lenient than those at Stars.

The Mom Room was buzzing about all the trio drama from the second they all hit the couch.  Debi and Brigette went another round or two in the never ending Lucas vs. Everybody Battle, and Abby got some serious eye rolling in right as Susan came back inside.  Debi got fed up and scooted to the lobby to read Cosmo with Mayra, while Susan got back up and pulled Jessi aside to unleash some more crazy on her daughter.

The group number was the aforementioned Twisted Circus, a dark music video kind of dance with black balloons that Jessi got to pop in such a suppressed and angry manner that I thought Susan’s face may have been doodled on the latex.

To get them all in the circus mood, Victor and Angel took the kids to Circus School, where they learned to jump and flip and twist themselves into human pretzels.

Jessi unleashed a little more of that suppressed anger by twisting herself around the Cirque du Soleil ceiling scarf as though it was her mother’s neck, while Lucas proved to everyone that he was indeed born with no spine.

Victor took center stage and tangled himself up in the hanging ring like he was a fierce diva parrot on a cage swing.  He said he was bringing circus realness, whatever that means, since every circus performance I’ve ever witnessed was solely based on the total opposite of realness.

Back at the studio, Angel was helping Kimmy with her solo.  I guess.

Since Angel is…umm…no longer in his dancing prime…shall we say, he seems to leave the actual dancing to Victor.  Instead, Angel chooses to wear snug shirts, scarves and little hats while giving each dance move a sound effect to distract us from the fact that he isn’t really dancing at all.

Boom! Pah! Pow! Whoo! Hah! Kpow!

Check it out.  It’s like the old 1960′s Batman TV show but with tighter outfits.

The trio number was based on women who hate each other.  If that sounded familiar, all you had to do was look through the glass into the Mom Room where they were all pointing and scratching each other’s eyes out while the girls were trying to rehearse.

Apparently the Moms have still not realized that the gigantic window is not a two way police mirror, and that the room is not sound proofed.

By the time Susan had blown Nutty #425 for the week, Hannah could hear everything through the glass and started to cry.  Victor scooped up the boom box and pushed all the kids outside to rehearse on hard concrete, while Angel Boom Pah Powed his way into the Mom Room to lay some smack down.  Much like his shirt, it just wasn’t pretty.

As the rehearsals dragged on, Abby was getting concerned that Sammy needed to get home and study for a test the next morning.  Say wha–?!

Yes.  That means the kids actually do go to school at some point during the day.  I would have totally lost that bet, since I’ve never seen one backpack or Trapper Keeper anywhere in that studio.

But turned out that Sammy isn’t a big fan of Kimmy’s sunrise homework rituals, so Abby wanted to go home.  When Angel got wind of such utter nonsense, he threw yet another Angel Spaz and sent everyone home to prove a point.

Since I’m not a dancer outside of los discotecas, I was a little surprised that none of the other Moms stood up for Abby.  Instead, they all slammed her for putting the entire competition in jeopardy and potentially sabotaging the trio.  The Dance comes first it seems, and they all stay in Dance Prison until it is perfection.  If that means the book report is late, so be it.

Did anyone ever ask Baryshnikov what he thought about the character and plot development in the second chapter of Catcher in the Rye?

No.  I didn’t think so.

Despite all the drama, everyone made it to Starbound in one piece.  Victor made his entrance in yet another tiny hat, Angel brought out yet another ManPurse delicately cradled in the nook of his arm, and Lucas rocked his signature Kanye West shades.

Seeing the Stars Grand Arrival is more fun than the competition itself.  There needs to be some kind of trophy for the pre-show, too.

Lucas did his solo with no shirt on again.  Beyond the fact that it’s a little creepy to be envious of a 9 year old’s six pack abs, the whole shirtless thing is played out.  You know that everyone in the auditorium is going to pick him up off the floor in a big bear hug at some point in the evening, so I would prefer his bare skin not be pressed up against every grown up in the joint.  I’m all set with that, thanks.

Kimmy had some timing issues with her solo, but she’s going to graduate with a 4.0 and someday own Microsoft, so who really cares.

Susan and Jessi went another couple of laps around the Crazy Track before the trio performance, which put additional pressure on the kids.

It should be noted that Jessi’s makeup barely budged when Mom made her cry like a baby.  She bawled, but that stuff didn’t move.

Memo to the FAA:  Whatever eyeliner it is that Miss Thing uses should be used to mark and track every black box on every plane that ever flies over a body of water.

In-de-structible.

The Twisted Circus number was twisted, and award winning.  Lucas was a Mime, and he actually made it into half a shirt.  Baby steps, I guess.

Sammy kinda sorta dropped Kimmy during a flip, but nobody could determine who was responsible.

The original blame fell on Kimmy, according to Sammy.  But then Lucas whispered that it wasn’t Kimmy’s fault.  And then there was so much backstage screaming and yelling that I lost track.

Abby stood up for Sammy, declaring her innocence, while everyone else blamed Sammy and pointed fingers like villagers storming Frankenstein’s Castle.

Then more screaming and crying as Abby stormed out the door.  There was a lot of that this week.

I’m not sure if anyone even asked if Kimmy’s head was ok.

It was a total circus, I tell you.

 

 

Seriously? The Nerd got the love letter? That is messed up.

 

 

 

 

 

Korroga…Krogography…     No, wait. Really.     This time I got it. Korahgraffi.

 

 

 

 

It says your butt’s too big and that top is still too small.

 

 

 

 

 

I did NOT put on my Big Boy Bib to be disrespected by a crazy Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

Screw artistry. That dance needs more technique. And more eyeliner.

 

 

 

R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Find out what it means to me.

And when you figure it out, can you please explain it to a few Moms I know before I send Aretha down to Miami and have her start bitch slapping somebody?

Please?

This week it was all about Respect and Survival on Dance Moms: Miami.

You need those skills out there in the real world, or the jungle…or that grey area in between known as the Dance Moms world.

It’s eat.  Or be eaten.  Just don’t eat a lot, because the scale doesn’t lie.

Back from their great showing at the Energy Dance Competition, Victor and Angel were already chomping at the bit for their next chance to grab some trophies for the case.  This time the gang was headed to Access Broadway in Orlando and there was a lot of work to get done.  If their team was going to make it to Regionals, or Nationals or whatever it is Dancers and Gleeks always go to, they would need to step up their game.

After The List, of course.

Even if the building catches on fire, nobody leaves until we finish The List.  Is that understood?

As the little dance troupe stacked up in their army line and the Moms lurked in the back of the room, Victor got the presentation started.  This week he—

Hold up.  Before we go any further.

Seriously?  Five weeks into this mess and nobody can find a 5th chair for the Moms?

One Mom is still left standing in the back while the other four take a load off?  You mean to tell me that huge studio doesn’t have one stray chair laying around somewhere?

How about they dump Mayra off her cushy front desk/receptionist chair?  Until we really get an explanation of what it is she does all day, she can read magazines on the floor.

Anyway.

Top of the hit parade was Jessi.  Kudos to her.  The same powerful, greedy paws that only a few weeks ago had ripped an award right out of another dancer’s hands have now helped her claw her way back up to the top.

I’ll give her one thumb up.  She has been working on her attitude.  Sporadically.

I still think she has the potential to cut someone if they cross her, and I’m not really sure if it’s the heavy eyeliner or allergies that make her squint.  But when she’s not mouthing off, the girl can dance.

The number 2 slot was all Kimmy.  Last week she managed to remember choreography, do a great dance and get all her advanced BioChem homework done before the Today show came on…so you go, girl.

Third was LadyKiller Lucas and his new haircut.  The L Man got a trim.  Keeping it tight and right.

Lucas had a few problems in his dancing last week and had to hang in the middle this round.  No biggie.  He’s still dope.

Fourth place, better known as second to the bottom, was Hannah.  Victor actually wanted her at the bottom, because she was too chicken s*** to fall backwards into Sammy’s arms during the Death Drop trust game.

Last week’s whole skinny girl/not so skinny girl duet thing was still a touchy subject and immediately got the eyeballs rolling around Mom Debi’s head like pinball marbles.

Last place was Sammy, because they ran out of room.

Before rehearsals could begin, Angel and Victor needed to address some issues.

Mainly, the Mom’s lack of respect.  Angel’s big gripe the last few weeks has been that the Moms are questioning their choreo…korograph…krrooga..

Choreography.  It’s called Choreography.

Seriously, dude.  Hooked on Phonics.  Sound.  It.  Out.

The boys are in charge.  The Moms are just their to carpool and swipe their credit cards.

End of story.

Since she didn’t hurt anyone or get arrested, Jessi got a solo.  An artistic kind of So You Think You Can Dance kind of solo.  Victor was definitely going back to his roots.  I almost called in to vote when she finally performed the number.

Hannah got a solo as well, which had Debi positively giddy when she wasn’t bitching out Abby for everything from the duet to the duet and then the duet.

Kimmy and Lucas were paired up in a romantic duet.  Or as romantic as 9 year olds can get, I guess.

Kimmy got a little skeeved out by the whole Boy Germ thing, while Lucas finally realized that having all that Game might actually net him a chick some day.

The group number was a Survival theme, which came complete with jungle drums during Victor’s unveiling.  It was like you were watching Dance Moms, but the audio track was from Survivor.  I was waiting for Brigette to pull out her lighter and get the tiki torches blazing.

My psychic powers told me that Lucas wouldn’t be wearing a shirt for that number.

Again.

As the kids got their Lion King on, the Moms chewed on each other like hyenas.  Abby and Debi continued their bickering which was basically a continuation of last week.  I should probably just cut & paste last week’s blog post into this paragraph, but I still haven’t figure out how to do that yet.  But you can imagine the conversation.

Seems the dealio at the studio is that everyone should come with about 27 more outfits than they actually need, in case a number gets cut or changed or Jessi cracks somebody in the head.  Apparently everyone knew that rule except newbie Abby, so Angel had sent her a text which she took to mean that last week’s half skinny/half not so skinny duet might not happen.

You know how that played out with Debi.

Abby flashed the text and here we go again.  Don’t show your texts to other people, whether they’re drunk texts or naked texts or dance texts.  Der.

Since Kimmy hadn’t had any real relationships yet, and Lucas didn’t know where his uncle kept the box of Playboys, the romance part of their dance wasn’t happening.  Their homework was to write each other love letters, put on a little Luther and get their groove on.

Naturally, Kimmy’s homework came complete with a bubble gum scented paper, a stamp, glitter stickers and a Trapper Keeper.  Lucas’s looked like he was mailing his Macy’s payment.

But it was cute.  Mom Ani had obsessively/compulsively helped Kimmy, so her love note was a little more on the Desperate Housewives “I love the way you take control” side of the spectrum, while Lucas said he would pick her up if he dropped her.

Chicks.  Go figure.

Then the whole thing suddenly morphed into an ABC AfterSchool Special on body image and eating disorders when Mayra put down her OK Magazine and came into the studio with a scale to weigh all the kids.

Yeah.  Like cattle at an auction.

I guess they do this in the dancers world a lot.  At least that’s what Angel said.

Apparently they don’t do it in the choreographers world, though, if you know what I mean.  But that’s what big scarves are for, right?

Oh snap.  I went there.

But they do it in the dancers world, I guess.  Abby was not a big fan at all and yanked Sammy out kicking and crying to the car like any good dramatic Dance Mom would do.

I’m Team Abby on this one.  At that age, unless the cafeteria is going to stop serving fish sticks and whoopie pies, I wouldn’t be weighing kids in front of each other.  Plus I don’t think Lucas could even make the needle move unless he put his big sunglasses back on.

In between all the rehearsing, Susan and Jessi managed to get plenty of disrespectful Mother/Daughter face time in as they argued about all the usual stuff.

Finally it was showtime.

Access Broadway was held in some hotel ballroom better suited for a Glitz pageant, where they just laid down a temporary wedding reception floor and hung a bazillion blinking starlights from those black fabric rolling backdrops they use to cover crap that nobody wants you to see.

Again…well documented.  I’m not a dancer, though in my head I am a dance authority.  I just thought the layout was odd.  You tripped on the carpet.  The edge of the dance floor was raised up just enough that you could trip on that as well if you were 5 open bar drinks into the reception.  It was eye level to the ballroom chairs.  Like floor seats at a concert that couldn’t afford a stage.

I was waiting for a baby to crawl across during a performance, or someone to drop their soda and watch the can roll under some ballet pose.  But it was incident free from my vantage point on my couch.

For all of Jessi’s issues, she nailed her solo.  It was simple and yet intense like any good cheese, or dance, should be.

The duet was cute.  Lucas actually came the closest to wearing a shirt that I’ve seen so far this season.  Yes, it was unbuttoned.  But at least it was a shirt.  On his body.  I’m surprised Victor didn’t just spray glue the clippings from Lucas’s new haircut onto his chest to Man him up a little.

(Side note:  Is it me, or does Victor pick up Lucas a lot?  Like his own private stuffed animal or something.)

Susan and Jessi went a few more rounds in between numbers.  This time Susan busted out her Spanish smack down, which made it feel more like you were watching a telenovela on Univision.

Or Dance Moms: Miami on vacation in a hotel in Spain.

Hannah had a little preemie meltdown before her number in the hallway when she forgot part of her routine.  Victor told her to improvise if she forgets.  Angel showed Hannah his Louis man purse and told her to accessorize.

Seriously.  Take that thing off.  Unless you’re a mailman delivering a package during Fashion Week, nobody needs to be rocking a cross body Vuitton Murse.

The Survivor group number only had one goober when Lucas’s jungle head piece flopped down onto his face.  But he kept on dancing like a trooper.  The show must go on even if you look like a shirtless jungle platypus.  Hakuna Matata.

I’m not really sure why all those other dance companies even made the trip to Orlando, because the team from Stars took all the good stuff and went home.

Hannah maintained enough short term memory to pull in 1st place.  So did Jessi.  So did the duet.  So did the group number.

Bam.  Read ‘em and weep, people.

Everyone was psyched.  Jessi and Susan even hugged it out.

Then Angel reached into his lovely purse, pulled out some duct tape and stuck it over Susan’s mouth as a symbolic representation of shut the f*** up or something.

By the time the show ended at that late hour, I didn’t even question why a grown man would be carrying a half used roll of duct tape in a designer handbag.

I’m more than happy to give you my thoughts on the matter, but that would just be disrespectful.

 

 

Look! Smoke signals! And they say “When is Abby Lee coming back?”

 

 

 

 

Seriously? Again with that skimpy top, honey?

 

 

 

 

Great goggly oogly! We’re on Fire!

 

 

 

 

 

So are we, girlfriend …so are we.

 

 

 

 

 

Somebody needs to catch my kid before I knock you all down.

 

 

Is that smoke I smell, or just the heat from some fierce attitude?

I can’t even tell anymore.  But something set off the smoke detectors this week, because Dance Moms: Miami was on fi-yah.

Literally.

Fresh off their embarrassing 5th place showing at Starbound, the kids at Stars Dance Studio had some ‘splaining to do as soon as the latest episode started up.

Channeling their inner Abby Lee Miller, Victor and Angel reminded the entire military line up of dancers how embarrassed they were by their performances and that…yes…even in Miami, everyone is replaceable.  Victor did not spend all that time on his hair to have his team come in 5th place.

And don’t even get Angel started on how his new scarf was totally wasted on that competition.  If he hadn’t cut the tag off, that thing would be going back to Chicos before lunch.

This week they were on the road to redemption.  Redemption, Michigan I guess.  Home of the Energy Dance Competition.

But nothing in the world of dance can ever start until The List, or The Pyramid or The Whatever Something of Shame is completed, so Victor got right down to bidnezz and started picking off fragile egos like he was shooting cans at the State Fair.

This week he started at the top on the Miami Price Is Right board, and revealed little Kimmy.  (For the life of me, I can’t remember the name of the game that Bob Barker always played that looked exactly like Victor’s List.  That joke would have been way funnier if I could remember the name, but you get where I was going on it.  It had something to do with Bounty paper towels.  That’s all I remember.)

Anyway.  Kimmy was on top because she scored 2nd place last week, only missing the top by one lousy point.  I would have asked to see the judging sheets, but that’s just me.

One notch down was Sammy.  Even though her last performance was absolutely her best dancing so far, Victor wanted to see more artistry.  He also wanted to see Hannah’s Mom Debi eye roll herself one step closer to an aneurism, because I think he secretly really gets off on that.

Third place was owned by Jessi as she slowly crawled her way back up from the penalty box.  As you will recall, Jessi was stuck at the bottom for rudely snatching an award from one of her fellow dancers like it was the last pair of shoes in her size on Black Friday.  I personally feel that she should have stayed on the bottom one more week just for wearing those inappropriate micro tops and too much cat eye liner, but that may just be my judgmental side coming out.

But, c’mon.  She’s a young girl, not a 60′s go-go dancer.  Wipe some of that off before you start attracting boys with fake IDs and peach fuzz mustaches.

Next to the bottom was my favorite little playa Lucas.  As Mom Brigette got herself all wound up, Victor explained that LadyKiller Lucas had too many wobble bobbles in his solo, and even doinked it a little on his signature one leg up in the air thing.  (I should probably Google the technical term for that move if I’m going to continue talking about it every week or find myself doing the move at the clubs to impress the Ladies.)

What?  You don’t think I could?  I heard somebody snicker.

Finally, at the bottom was Hannah…because someone has to be each week, right?

For the upcoming competition, Kimmy and Jessi scored solos.  LadiesLoveMe Lucas was sidelined for that whole wobble bobble thing, and Hannah and Sammy were paired up for a duet.

Yeah.  Hannah and Sammy.

Square Peg…meet Round Hole.

Debi immediately called foul and spent the majority of the episode claiming that Hannah was set up to fail, while Abby flipped her hair a lot and fretted that Sammy would get dragged down by Hannah’s inexperience and her husky Sears corduroys.

Ok.  Nobody really came out and worded it like that, but they all thought it and waited for someone to say it first.

While the Moms all bickered behind the Mom Zoo glass,  the kids started working on the group number.  The number was choreographed around a Discipline theme, which required the dancers to pretend they were prisoners serving time based on various Sins of the Mothers.  It was a little unclear how many Moms actually served hard time because they moved right along as soon as Lucas called out his Mom for tax evasion.

Awkward.

As the Moms poked each other with sticks, Jessi and Sammy bonked heads together and almost blacked out.  After their dramatic collapse to the floor and a two minute lecture on not working together as a team, Victor paused long enough to check for dilating pupils and made certain that no pesky concussions would interrupt rehearsal.

Time is money, people.  Focus.  With your good eye.  The other one will open up once the swelling goes down.

The Duet was an even bigger clunk.  Sammy and Hannah were definitely not meshing during practice.  Call it two different styles.  Two different levels of experience.  Two different pant sizes.

Call it whatever you wanna call it.  Just don’t call it good yet.

Victor was getting upset, and the two girls were zig zagging around like they were at an improvisational solo performance.  I’m not really certain they even knew the other one was in the room.

It looked like someone forced a cheerleader to dance with a girl from Band Camp.

To get the girls to mesh as a team, Victor insisted they do the Trust Drop.  You know the Trust Drop.  That fall backwards thing you do in the woods during corporate team buildings where you pray the person behind you is actually paying attention and catches you before you crack your skull open and live the rest of your life with a soft spot.

Sammy was down with it, and fell back so fast that Hannah was barely in place.  When it was Hannah’s turn, she refused and had a melt down.  She tried it once or twice, but didn’t make it past a 4 degree decline.

When she went running out of the room in tears, Debi explained that Hannah doesn’t like falling backwards.

Now, hold up.  That didn’t even make sense.  Do you know anyone at work who loves to fall backwards in the copier room?  Who puts “loves falling backwards” on a resume?  When is the last time you woke up and thought “What a beautiful day to fall backwards” and then fell backwards?  Unless you are in a Mosh Pit or crowd surfing at a Jimmy Buffet concert…I mean, really?

Debi is a NutWad.

Finally Hannah pulled it together and fell back without ripping Sammy’s arms out of the sockets, and it was over.

(Side note:  During Hannah’s crying session at the front desk, I got all excited that Jennifer Lopez was the receptionist until I realized it was just Mayra with another one of her crazy weaves.)

Then everything caught on fire.

Well, across the street anyway.  Actually, it looked like it was a long way away, but you would have sworn Chernobyl had sprung a leak.

As something burned off in the distance, it was mass hysteria at the studio.  Screaming kids.  Crying kids.  One kid that wouldn’t stop crying even if you slapped her.

If you’re a dance aficionado, the internet is already buzzing that you got a glimpse of Mia Diaz, one of the most famous tiny dancers at Stars.  Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t.  People with too much time on their hands are already arguing the issue.

I’m just spreading gossip, not reporting the news…though I was totally going to make up a story about how she was trampled in the exodus, but I already get enough hate mail from those Toddlers & Tiaras relatives.

She’s alive.  We’re moving on.

One of the last rehearsals before the big event was Kimmy’s solo, which was all about being a Bad Girl.  As LoveToLoveYou Lucas said…good luck with that.

Kimmy doesn’t have any front teeth, or a bad bone in her body.  Except for staying up past her bedtime to work on that 3rd grade calculus thesis, she is every parents’ Dream Child.  Her “homework” before the competition was to do something bad to get into character, but instead of selling crack behind the school dumpster Kimmy settled for throwing a pistachio in the airport.

A pistachio.  She’s a menace to society, I tell you.  How many more people have to lose an eye from a carelessly thrown pistachio before we lock these criminals up for life?

The duet rehearsal was a bigger crime, thank you.

Sammy and Hannah still couldn’t get it together, mainly because they were distracted by Victor’s dip dyed skinny jeans with all that day glo blue below the knees.  (It must have been a 2fer special at H&M, because he was rocking the red version once they got to Michigan.)  The hot mess did not go unnoticed by the Moms either, and finally Brigette left the Zoo to snitch on Debi.

Taking her purse along with her, since she apparently feels that the other Moms will collectively go thru it for money and mints if she leaves it anywhere, Brigette let Victor know that Debi felt he was setting Hannah up to fail.  Needless to say, if Victor’s hair could stand up any higher in anger, it would have.

He stormed into the Zoo and laid it down for the Moms.  While his neck veins were poking out and his jazz hands were jazzing, I was so distracted by the half naked photo of Lucas on the wall that I didn’t catch all of Victor’s speech.

Seriously, does that kid ever wear any clothes?  The photo had him hanging off some kind of towel bar looking thing…I don’t even know what it was.  Either put a shirt on it, or put some more meat on it.  He’s a charmer, but too skinny to always be on display.  And it’s getting a little skeevy.

Victor ranted and raved about how he was 23 years old and gave up his career and blah to the blah…and then squealed off in his shiny car like he was a 6 year old having a tantrum.

Make up your mind, dude.  What is it?  23 or 6?

Finally they made it to the competition.

Unfortunately, the gang has not yet mastered the Dance Moms ensemble entrance.  Where Abby Lee Miller and her posse all plow into the venue in one big Desperate Housewives slow motion walk, the Miami crew stumbled out of their unmarked vans like they were being transported to a half way house and wanted to avoid the paparazzi.

Angel actually left everyone behind to carry the luggage and I swear they left one kid in the back seat.

Now I’ll own the fact that I’m not an expert on the world of The Dance.  But if you can’t afford to have a nifty backdrop for your stage, what kind of a big dealio is this event?

The powerpoint Energy logo was a nice touch on the white wall.  It reminded me of those school slide projectors when you had to learn about the columbian coffee exporters.  Any minute now I expected the clumsy kid to trip the cord and swing the logo off the screen.

Then there was a whole bunch of dancing.  Solos and duets and randomness.

The group number was a Nickelodeon bondage kind of thing, with LookAtMe Lucas not wearing a shirt again.  I’m sure some website out there will give you the award details.  I have a feeling that’s not why you are reading this thing.

Brigette was snarky and Debi blew a nutty.

Hannah better be there to catch me the day that Lucas wears a shirt and I fall over backwards.

Yup.  They were on fire this week.

Fi-yah.