Dance Moms: Topless Showgirls And Tasty Sausages. It Was Booty Shorts, Fan Dances, Candy Apple Cowgirls…And Chloe Covered In Beef Jerky?Wednesday, March 7th, 2012
Pittsburgh, can you handle this? I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly.
My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. Pow! Pow!
I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m sure it’s completely age inappropriate.
I guess they didn’t want to pay the premium rate for the six pack abs.
Oh yeah. That’s the stuff Mommy likes.
I’m not even sure where to start.
This week Dance Moms had a little something for everyone, especially if you are a big fan of under age Las Vegas showgirls, slightly doughy strippers who masquerade as HVAC techs or seriously bad western decor.
If you also happen to eat dehydrated red meat, then you really scored.
And if you are one of the dozen or so viewers who actually tune in to see…I don’t know, dancing maybe…they even threw in a few minutes of contemporary lyrical something something, just to keep everyone happy.
Let’s start at the beginning before my head explodes.
Fresh off their victory at the Fire & Ice Dance Competition, where Abby Lee Miller and her grammar school brides took first place, everyone was back at the ALDC Mothership to regroup and see how the infamous Let Me Guess…Brooke And Paige Are On The Bottom Again Pyramid of Shame panned out this week.
What a surprise. Perky Paige was at the bottom, along with her sister born with no smile muscles, Brooke. (I may be psychic. Just putting that out there.)
After Mom Kelly did her weekly eye roll over the Pyramid results, we learned that Paige was on the bottom because her arms weren’t doing whatever it is that dancers’ arms are supposed to be doing and she needs to fix that, asap. Brooke was on the bottom because in her head she is starring in her own CW Network TV show and apparently is required to mope around full of teenage angst until someone gets up enough nerve to slap her so hard that she skips a grade.
Tiny Mackenzie was also on the bottom in order to give her more time to improve to the level that big sister Maddie was at when she was age 7. She also needs more time to let her Big Girl teeth grow in, even though half her charm is her pumpkin smile.
Chloe and her tiny eyes were stuck on the second row. She just looks so happy all the time that I want to hug her until her eyes pop out to normal size. She’s just plain nice.
But nice doesn’t cut it when Abby wants more. And more.
Divalicious Nia was keeping Chloe company on the middle row, basically to make room for Maddie on the top.
Since the Fire & Ice Competition was such a bit hit last week, the gang is headed back again. Only this time it’s Fire & Ice Elite. Only Big Dawgs need apply, thank you.
This round is strictly for the top of the heap, and since it was once again being held in their own backyard, Abby wanted to ramp up the challenge, push the boundaries and make it memorable.
And what is more memorable than naked showgirls?
Dat’s rite. Naked. Showgirls. Little ones.
After two of the Moms spit their drinks out and one swallowed her gum, Abby explained the exotic Fan Dance and how she wants all her dancers classy, well respected and elegant.
The girls got that nervous giggle that you get the first time the school nurse shows you those pamphlets, but they were up for the challenge.
As the Moms went up to that mysterious surgical viewing booth where they always go, Abby started the girls out on their Fan Dance rehearsal. And that one just had to be seen to be believed.
With an uncomfortable combination of chain smoking, over-the-hill stripper and Tupperware Lady playing charades, Abby worked it and shook it and sliced & diced it until I was ready to toss a dollar bill up on stage just to make her stop. She told the girls…and I quote, sort of…you want it, you can’t handle it, you can’t afford it, you can’t hold it in one hand, you could barely hold it in two, you didn’t take the garbage out, you wish you had some of this, you left the seat up…until the girls were shaking it like Cosby jello and the Moms were clutching rosary beads.
The fact that the first round of rehearsals were done without fans made it even more awkward, because there was nothing to hide their little junk trunks as they mimicked the moves. If Abby hadn’t cut the practice short to let a few of the girls head home to sleep it off, I’m pretty certain Chris Hansen would have come in through that back door with a bowl of potato chips asking “Ahhh…so what are you doin’ here?”
Quick switch in scenes to No Man’s Land Ohio, home of the Evil Dance Lair, better known in the Yellow Pages as Candy Apple’s Dance Center.
Who knows what Evil lurks in Ohio this week?
Chaos Cathy Nesbitt is lounging in her Home Base of Operations, plotting her next revengeful attack on the Abby Lee Dance Company. It was both informational and sensory overload, in the best comic book villain kind of way. Ever.
Who knew that we would finally get to see Cathy’s husband Mike in action? And that he was Canton’s King of Jerky? Or Jerky King? Or King of Jerking…or whatever his license plate says.
Who knew that attached to the side of the Evil Dance Lair was Tommy’s Jerky Outlet? Ohio’s one-stop shop for your bulk jerky purchases and all the condiments that go with dried out meat?
And who knew Cathy liked bunnies so much?
Seriously. Did you see that kitchen? Bunny wallpaper border. Bunnies on the counter. Bunnies on the table. Bunny cookie jars. Bunny utensil holders.
Cathy totally has QVC on speed dial, because every piece of Spring Holiday s*** that crazy stepford wife Valerie sells was in that room.
Mike wants to expand his Jerky Empire, much like Darth Vader did with the Death Star, and he figured that he needed to advertise on TV.
I’ll spare you the boring stuff.
Turns out it’s expensive to make TV commercials and Cathy offers her services, since we all know that teaching 8 year olds how to jazz hand and putting glitter eye shadow on your daughter before breakfast qualifies anyone to work on Madison Avenue. And, as everyone knows…any good jerky commercial needs dancing, so as part of her Master Plan to take down Abby Lee, Cathy thinks that Chloe would make a great lead for the commercial since she already has one music video under her belt.
Blah, blah, blah…Cathy calls Christi and somehow hypnotizes her through their blinged out cell phones into believing that this is a good idea that will end well.
The commercial was just a big Hot Country Mess.
When Chloe and Christi arrived at the Jerky Jamboree, Cathy had all her Candy Apple’s Dance Squad decked out in (candy apple) red cowgirl outfits…and one cowboy outfit for that goofy little red haired kid who runs around all the time. Cathy’s daughter Vivi-Anne was also part of the party, even though she still seemed to be a little dopey from her allergy meds.
I may have to cut the girl a little slack, though, because I’m really starting to think that maybe it’s the four coats of heavy metallic eye shadow that makes her lids so droopy, and not just Nyquil.
Cathy had created her own version of the Lady Gaga Meat Dress for Chloe, since we also know that jerky commercials need to be edgy and current. But time and budgetary constraints required that the Meat Dress be replaced with a one piece jerky catsuit kind of thing. Think Project Runway if Tim Gunn took the designers to the Dean & Deluca deli counter instead of Mood.
You know those sticky lint rollers that they sell at the Dollar Store, that only randomly pick up bits and pieces of fuzz when you rub them around? I know you do.
That’s pretty much what Chloe wore in the commercial. A one piece lint roller with a few random chunks of beef jerky safety pinned to the front, stylishly accessorized with a necklace that dangled enough sausages to keep any junior high nerd telling dirty jokes on his Facebook page for the rest of the school year.
Is that sausage supposed to hit me in the chin when we dance?
That’s what she said.
While all this hysteria was taking place, Abby had received the shipment of pink fans and flesh colored pasties for the girls, and the Moms had decided to surprise Melissa with a stripper engagement party during the Fire & Ice Elite Competition. Seems that even though Melissa still has not told anyone that she and her new BoyToy are making it official, everyone already knows and Kelly and Christi are horny enough to get the party started.
By the time they got to the competition, Holly had managed to finagle her way out of the stripper party by being the Mom in charge of hustling the kids out before it gets nasty. PhD’s and lap dances don’t always mix too well, so she was more than happy to play babysitter.
But the naughty bits would have to wait until after the competition.
As the girls were putting on their faces and running the numbers one last time, Christi and Chloe gathered everyone around the laptop to show off the jerky commercial. They had just received the email attachment from Cathy, and I didn’t have a good feeling about this one.
Poor little Chloe got played. She got served.
The whole thing was a sham to humiliate Abby and Christi and anyone in the Abby Lee Miller orbit. All of Chloe’s dancing was cut out, and the only thing that remained was a seductive pose in a Meat Onesie.
Egg on her face, and jerky between her legs. And the tag line “No one jerks it like Tommy.”
Somewhere in the world a sausage fell off when the announcer made that claim to fame.
Chloe pulled herself together and danced her brains out, as did Maddie and all the FanDancers.
After the awards, where Maddie took home top honors and the naked showgirls didn’t even place, the Moms scooted everyone back to the makeup room for the surprise party.
In walks the dude who’s “working on the heat.” In porn movies it’s the Cable Guy. In Dance Mom Land it’s the Heating Guy, and Abby’s thermostat needed some tweaking.
Crank up the boom box. It’s time to par-tay, bitches.
In a matter of seconds we learned that Abby really likes her strippers, and that Cable Guys do more sit ups than Heating Guys. By the time Abby was coated in sweat and confetti like a Paula Dean Mardi Gras ham, Melissa was mortified. She finds strippers to be low class and trashy. And she’s a classy lady. Just ask the boyfriend she’s been sleeping with, he’ll tell you it’s true.
The only thing missing was whack job Jill and her poof. The combination of Jill having another meltdown, strippers and all you can eat dried meat would have been TV gold. She could throw shoes and beef jerky all over the place until the cows come home.
Careful you don’t poke an eye out with that sausage, honey.
That’s what she said.