Posts Tagged ‘Kaya in the Hood’

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




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





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






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?






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







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







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






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.


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!


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.


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.


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.


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.


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…


Dance Moms: One Mo’ Time. Say Hello To Kaya And Bye Bye To Broadway Baby. It’s All Good In Da ‘Hood, Bitch.

Thursday, February 28th, 2013



I know, right? With my Kim Kardashian pouty face, crazy a** hats are totally the New Black.






Oh. Hell. No. Bitch did not just go there.






Lawd Jesus. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Not at this hour.





Bitch, you’re lucky I don’t have my thug hat on, or I’d be all up in your grill like it was going down at a PTA meeting.





Bitch, pleez. You ain’t returning a blouse to Talbots. You’re in da ‘Hood.






No. Your kid can’t dance, Bitch. And close your legs to married men.





What? Seriously. Like I totally didn’t even understand that last joke. Sometimes being little sucks.




The following television program is rated TV-DM.  As in Dance Moms.

It may contain one or more of the following:

Intensely suggestive dialogue.  Coarse language straight up from da ‘hood, Bitch.  Some sexual situations and/or poorly styled booty shorts that cut you off at the thigh and make you appear shorter than you really are.

And the kind of moderate pop-off in a bitch’s face kind of violence that used to be reserved only for greasy hoes trying to marry Flava Flav.

Parental Guidance is suggested.

Strongly suggested, actually.  And a cocktail probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

That can only mean one thing.

Black Patsy is back, Bitches.  And she’s not taking any prisoners.  Or crap from any of the Moms.  Especially that studio hopper Jill.

Oh, yeah.  It was on.  On like dancing gangstah Donkey Kong.

And amidst all the resulting collateral damage, two people probably took it harder than anyone this week when the ALDC foolishly crossed the tracks onto Black Patsy’s turf.

One.  The Lifetime Network censor dude responsible for hitting the Swear Button up in the sound booth, because that poor guy was assigned the task of (bleepin’) out a good two thirds of this week’s show.  Give that boy a raise and a thumb massage.

Two.  Whoever heads up the St. Louis Department of Tourism, because after witnessing what went down at this week’s competition, I am never setting foot in that city.  Ever.

And neither is most of America.  Oh Hell No.

Using only her ‘hood mentality and racially inappropriate nickname, Kaya Wiley single handedly did more damage to the Anheuser-Busch brewery bus tour business than any bad rating from the Missouri Board of Health could ever hope to accomplish.

Cuz she’s ‘hood.  And you’re in the ‘hood.  Her ‘hood, Bitches.

HoodBitchHoodBitchHoodBitchHoodBitch.  There was a lot of that going around this week.  You might want to send the kids out of the room before we go any further.

But even a turf war has to start with the Pyramid of Shame.

As all the Moms and kiddos filed into the studio, Abby Lee Miller was MIA.  And she’s never late when it comes to bruising egos and crushing dreams, so you knew something wasn’t right in Pittsburgh.

When she finally showed, visibly shaken, it was revealed that little Broadway Baby had passed away.  Abby’s 16 year old puppy with the exceptionally runny eyes had died.

So that was sad.

Finding out that he had kidney failure was also sad, but I’m leaning towards blaming that part on Black Patsy, because in all honesty when I heard that she was coming back I wet myself a little, too.

But dog or no dog, the show must go on.  They were all headed to Black PatsyVille for the Dance Xpressions Competition and there was a lot of work to do, so Abby blew through the Pyramid in record time.

Bottom row was a Hyland family photo opp, with Paige and Brooke taped side by side, and tiny Mackenzie keeping them company.

Kendall and Nia were chillin’ on the second row, which left room for Maddie‘s second time on top.  Even Abby didn’t seem too concerned about who went where this time around.

Chloe was still on suspension, because Abby needed something that would put a smile on her face while she mourned the loss of her dog, and watching Christi’s Paranoia Pot slowly boil over was just what the doctor ordered.

With everything going on this week, there really isn’t time to properly do justice to all the Mom Ensembles that were modeled during the line up, so I’ll just say that…yes…mixing prints and patterns is very on trend.  I watch Project Runway.  

But I also watch What Not To Wear, and I know that when it starts looking like you got dressed on Laundry Day, it’s time to edit.

Seriously.  No idea what was going on with Jill’s polka dot and plaid medley, though I’m thinking that someone is spending so much time picking out what new crazy hat to wear that it turns into crunch time when she finally has to get dressed and get out the door.

Oy vey.  My eyes.

As the Moms headed to the Mom Perch, all the girls got working on the ballet group routine until Abby suffered a Broadway Baby Breakdown and had to leave the building to pull her shizzle together.  While assistant choreographer Niyala worked it out, the Moms all huddled in formation upstairs and decided that the girls should not only design a homemade sympathy card, but that they should also toss the whole group number out with the bathwater and create an entirely new Dog Memorial Dance to cheer up Abby.

Because you know that nothing cheers a person up like changing their music and their choreography and their costumes and their headpieces behind their back three days before competition, right?

Anyone wanna place any bets on how that all worked out before we get the results?

While everyone was sabotaging and sympathizing all over Abby’s hard work, Miss Miller was actually home with her own Mom mourning little Baby.

And, excuse me.  Why didn’t anyone tell me that Abby lived in Superman‘s Fortress of Solitude?  Cuz I’m sure that’s what it was.

Remember in the movie when Clark Kent walked through the front door and it was all blinding white light and white walls and white ceilings and white bookcases and white photos?  I was literally waiting for Abby to move a bottle of Cheese Whiz, pick up one of those hidden magical ice sticks from the kitchen counter, hurl it on the floor and start talking to Marlon Brando.  For realz.

And Abby’s Mom had the same giant silk bow in the back of her head that a crazy lady I see in the subway station every morning wears while she talks to her mitten.

What can I say?  I’m blessed with an eye for detail.

As the competition grew closer, Abby was once again MIA at the studio, and the Moms were getting concerned.  Even Christi and Kelly were concerned, when they weren’t chewing on each other’s necks.

They still weren’t getting along too well.  I guess that telling your former BFF to go eff herself will do that.

While everyone tried to figure out how to magically create a completely new dance based on Jill’s favorite iPhone ringtone, Black Patsy was up in St. Louis setting the Civil Rights Movement back about four decades.

Cuz she’s ‘hood.  And the ALDC was coming to her ‘hood.

HoodBitchHoodBitch.  Trash with a Title.  Abby’s big on feet, even if she can’t see her own feet.  Doctor Holly has a edjukashun that she don’t even use.  HoodBitchHoodBitch.

Girl, pleez.  You are wearing me out.  And NeNe sez Fix Yo’ Face, Bitch.

Back in PA, there was just enough time to work on Maddie and Nia’s solos.  Abby finally returned, because nothing makes her happier than working with Maddie and ignoring Nia.  So Maddie got a private tutorial, and Nia got another hat.

Is it just me, or is this show big on hats lately?

Right about now was when Abby realized that the group number had been completely changed, and the whole Tribute to Baby thing backfired so hard it almost knocked Jill’s hair back into place.  Abby was not happy.  Not happy at all.  And definitely not thankful for any of the work that had been put in while she was home kissing dog photos.

With only one day left before Dance Xpressions, Abby activated the ALDC Panic Switch and morphed the group routine into kind of a DIY Night at the Improv dance.

Here’s the CD, kids.  Now go on stage and keep yourself busy.  Mama ain’t in the mood.

Oh.  And Christi and Kelly went a few more rounds in the Ring.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And time to meet up with Black Patsy in the lobby.

The competition hadn’t even started yet, but you could tell BP was already looking to rumble.  And you knew she meant business because all her big a** braided weave was pulled to one side like they do on VH1.  That makes it much easier to head butt a bitch without losing a track, by the way.

The More You Know, kids.

After mocking Dr. Holly for being a Dr. Holly and then calling all the Moms boughetto, Black Patsy headed to her seat and the competition began.

Nia and Baby Black Patsy, Nicaya, busted out their solos.  Those damn signature Dance Xpressions backstage light grids were plugged in again, flashing like Kmart window displays, and they were so distracting that I can’t remember how the solos turned out.

I remember that nobody fell down, and that Nia still had a hat on when it was over, so I guess they both did ok.

Maddie’s solo was only marred by this odd off-centered glittery heart appliqué that made it appear as though she had been stabbed in the chest with a prison shiv.  When the dance was over the emcee announced that Maddie’s routine was dedicated to Abby’s dead dog and the crowd all clapped their paws together one last time for Baby.

And then the whole thing just went downhill from there.

Melissa scored a major brownie point by sneaking that one in past the other Moms, but it blew up in her face after it was over.  The original dealio was that the group number was to be the dead dog tribute.  Not Maddie’s solo.

But Maddie is Maddie and Melissa is Melissa.  So do the math.

Then the group Improv hit the stage.  And the ‘hood shizzle hit the fan.

After mumbling smack talk behind the ALDC Moms throughout the entire dance, all the Black Patsy dramz finally spilled out into the lobby.  And it was on.

Surrounded by millions of those Justin Bieber fans that follow dance competitions like they’re on some kind of religious crusade to Stonehenge, Kaya went total Bad Girls Club meets Sam’s Club right up in Jill’s face.

She trash talked Kendall.  Who is Jill’s daughter.

Jill Vertes.  The same Jill who threw water on that crazy Candy Apple’s woman .  The same Jill who threw a shoe across the room.  The same Jill who clearly can’t dance Gangnam Style to save her life, but proudly does it like a Boss anyway and holds the record for the most consistently bad hair days in one television season.

The same Jill that used to drive me crazy but now completely captivates me with her insane ballsy-ness, if that’s even a word.  The same Jill who tries to fight like she has a gang tattoo on her butt cheek even though it’s really just the tag from her Spanx.

That Jill.

In 3…2…1.  Boom.

HoodBitchHoodBitch.  You wanna go there, Bitch?  You don’t wanna go there, Bitch.

Screaming.  Yelling.  You got kicked out of the studio, Bitch.  No, Bitch…I left.  You went crawling back.

Seriously, the only thing missing was Maury Povich running on stage with a DNA test and Kaya going all Baby Daddy on that pudgy guy who kept trying to break it all up.

They both did a lot head snapping and OhNoSheDin’t finger waving.  Jill’s version had to be seen to be believed.

And when all the dance kids are all grown up and this show is no longer on the air, you can bet that Christi has already received an offer to do impressions at the Comedy Connection.  I know I’d totally buy a ticket to see that crazy blonde chick pretend to be all ghetto and pat her weave like Beyoncé.  It was so wrong it was right.

Then Black Patsy was finally kicked outta the hizzle, and outta the competition.

Granted, she misplaced her own kid and it took awhile for her to actually realize it and leave the premises, but she finally made it outside and disappeared onto the mean streets of St. Louis.

Haters gonna hate.

Abby apologized to all the girls putting videos up on their youtube page, and the emcee apologized to everyone during the awards ceremony.

And then some kids won some stuff and Christ and Kelly hugged it out.

Cuz that’s how they roll in the ‘hood, Bitch.

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