DanThat'sCool!

 

 

And the award for Mrs. Ultimate Grand Supreme Vicarious Living goes to…

 

 

 

 

 

I have no clue what sexy means, but in my silver Hello Kitty stilettos I can tell I’m sexy.  And I know it.

 

 

 

 

Dude.  Hand in your Man Card. Just hand it in and we’ll never speak of this again.

 

 

 

 

 

I swear to Gawd, if I turn around and he’s still wearing that thing…it’s been like two hours.

 

 

 

 

There’s only one true Makenzie. Suck it like a Pixie Stick, bitches. Suck it.

 

 

 

 

Aloha.

From the tropical paradise known as Mississippi.

Toddlers & Tiaras finished off the season this week with a southern fried Hawaiian Luau kind of a thing, and it was everything we could have hoped for and more.  TLC ended the latest round of pageantry with enough glittered palm trees and processed sugar to keep all of us buzzing until the next SUV full of Crazy pulls up to the check-in desk later this year.

It was the Mississippi Sweet Pea Party Pageant, and everybody knows that nothing says Southern Hospitality like a luau.  Pageant Director Linda Brown excitedly got us all up to speed right away by explaining how the whole shindig was gonna go down.

This was a full on, in yo’ face Glitz pageant.  That meant mounds of that gravity defying Closer to Jesus hair and enough spray tan and aerosol mist to smoke a terrorist out of his underground foxhole.

The clothes were most likely going to be too small, and the flippers too big.  There’s probably a mathematical equation that Pageant Moms use to figure out the perfect ratio between the two, but that is way beyond my skills or attention span so we’ll have to save it for another day.

The Ultimate Supreme winner was going to take home a wicked sparkly 13″ crown for their tiny 10″ head, a 3 foot tall trophy guaranteed to tip over at some point in the living room and crush their 2 foot high body and $250 in greenbacks.

Since those crackly cupcake dresses normally start at $350 on the low end of the retail scale, it’s always nice to head into a pageant already in the hole.  That one I will never understand, but I don’t make the rules.

Our first little contestant was 7 year old Liz and her Mom Jennifer.

Hollah to Liz.  That’s how she rolls.  Everyone called her charismatic, which usually means her personality is so boisterous that she gets kicked out of movie theaters.  Charismatic just sounds better.

Initially I thought that Liz may actually sleep in an FAO Schwarz stockroom, because there were so many toys and stuffed animals packed into that one bedroom that it looked like the belly of the airplane that delivers Toys For Tots every Christmas.

A quick salute to the troops.  If you’re short one teddy bear next December, I’m sure Liz can hook you up.

Elicia, the coach, seemed nice enough…but sorry, she’s no Katie Boyer.  Shout out to Katie’s Kuties, and another troop salute to any woman who can go from coaching to the pageant to the award ceremony and not blink once.

Katie.  Is.  Into. It.  True dat.

Mom and Coach both admitted that Liz can get a little obnoxious at times, which was another synonym for charismatic, I guess.  Even Liz herself suggested that she may get a little angry if she doesn’t win Top Dawg honors.  She then proceeded to bare her empty gums, growl like one of the Twilight wolves and fling herself into a stockroom shelf full of Beanie Babies.

Next up was 3 year old Emma and Mom Hope.

Right about here is when it started getting good.

Mom was a former Mrs. Mississippi United States 2011, which I guess must be different than Mrs. Mississippi Tokyo 2011.

Seriously.  Why do they need the United States part?  There are so many rules in this world.

As soon as Hope put on own her personal crown and did that Pride Parade wave, you knew that thing was staying on her head until someone pried it out of her cold, dead, bloody hands.

Once a Pageant Princess, always a Pageant Princess.

That pageant gene was clearly in Emma’s DNA, or had been injected in vitro at some point.  Either way, Emma was in it to win it.

And so was Mom, who pointedly remarked that the haters out there are just jealous bitches.  Pageant Dad Hank could probably support that mindset as well, since he was all about it as he worked his own pretty feet and plopped a crystal crown on his head like it was his day job.

Now I’m all for Dads supporting these kids, because most father figures are probably more apt to be tossing the pigskin out back with the nearly ignored little brothers than showing their girls how to pop a hip when you reach the painter’s tape “X” on the carpet.

But Hank seemed to already know his crown size and wore that thing like his lodge buddies wear their John Deeres.  Let’s pause, scratch our chins and just go Hmmmm.

While Hank was tilting his crown slightly askew, someone had been hunting, because 5 year old McKenzie’s house was full of dead animal faces mounted on the walls.

This was McKenzie, like the hamburger.  Not Makenzie, like the Ni-Ni.

I know that the blogs and the boards were getting all excited that the Princess of Meltdowns was coming back this week.

Psych.

Not doing it.

Hopefully T&T can figure out a way to sneak the original Mak Attak back in one more time before she outgrows the cute meltdowns and starts getting called a beeotch by the Mean Girls in the cafeteria.

Love you.  Miss you.  Mean it.

Golden Arches McKenzie was competing in Mississippi for the first time, so she and Mom Michelle weren’t sure what to expect.  They just knew that Big Hair = Big Scores, so they hit the salon to get McK’s hair did for the pre-game practice session.  They were planning to tease that ‘do into the military No-Fly Zone.

Elsewhere, rehearsals with pint-sized Emma were proving to be an effort in futility.

Between Hope still latching on to her fading pageant dreams and Hank matching tomorrow’s cowboy shirt to his crown, Emma was holed up in the closet waiting for a bribe.  Seems that money and ranch animals are the only things that get this little kid to practice nowadays.

I’m not certain if anyone has ever done any long term research studies on the subject, but I can’t imagine that begging your 3 year old child to dance for a dollar won’t come back and haunt you later on in life.  Mom and Dad have even gone as high as $20, which after taxes probably makes for a pretty good night at Hooters.

Luckily Emma has standards, and preferred horses instead of tips.  Hopefully she won’t be riding that new pony while wearing her new silver high heel shoes.

That’s right.  As part of her Marilyn Monroe costume for Outfit of Choice (…during a Hawaiian Luau theme, of course…) Emma was going to be wobbling across the stage in little Louboutins.  Since she can barely balance her head at 3 years of age, adding heels into the equation was proving a little challenging.  But she’s gonna make it work.  Or make it Werk, Girl.  Because she’s sexy and she knows it.

And she said it.  Not me.

Apparently nobody in that house had been keeping up with TMZ to see how well that statement had worked out for fellow contestant Isabella Barrett.

Yeah.  Just saying.

In one of the odder moments in television history, after Emma’s salon bleach highlighting and more practice on her hoochie shoes, Hope got all misty eyed about how kids grow up so fast.

I know, right?

I’m thinking the 3 year old girl next door who still blows snot bubbles while she watches Teletubbies reruns isn’t growing up quite so quickly.  But I’m not here to judge.  Or at least not so blatantly.  This one is too easy.

To make up for all the makeup and stiletto strutting, and to keep Emma stunted at 3 years old as long as possible, Hope still lets her sleep in the bed with them at night.  Another chin scratch and a Hmmmmm.

So if I’m doing the math correctly, that’s three people and three crowns all crammed onto that one mattress.

Again…too easy.

Pageant Day arrived with all the usual prep panic that I adore.  McKenzie must have sold bootleg tickets to all her relatives, because half the audience was all in neon green t-shirts to show their support.

Emma spent most of the pre-show process with her head cocked back like a Pageant Princess Pez dispenser while Hope literally poured Pixie Stick crack down her throat.  At one point Dad even poured it out into his hand and let her suck it up like a DustBuster.

(Not gonna lie.  Part of me wondered if she was going to snort it when he first made the line.  Another part of me wished that she had, because then this would have been the best blog post evah.  But she just licked it up like the reindeer at Santa’s Village and then went SugarSpaz.)

The Beauty portion was all finger kisses and cupcakes.  The usual.  Liz’s flipper kept falling out, but she managed to keep it in her skull while she was on stage.

In between numbers Mom and her entourage worked some MacGyver magic on Liz’s palate with pink stuff from Home Depot and a french fry.  For realz.  No clue how it worked, but somehow it kept the rubber teeth from falling out during the rest of the show.

Outfit of Choice and the actual Hawaiian part were pretty low key aside from a few nuggets.

McKenzie was a naughty referee, complete with a sequined football and moves that would make the Dallas Cowboy girls blush.  Liz did a Saturday Night Fever number while Emma did something or other on a complete sugar high.

During the luau, Emma finally started to come down from her sugar buzz right when they popped in the wrong CD.  The Perfect Storm as they say in the biz.

She froze and almost made the show go 90 minutes over.

If there really are any Gods of Reality TV, they will immediately give a 13 episode commitment to Pam the Judge.

All rise, if you know what’s good for you, because Judge Pam was in session.

Part Mississippi librarian, part knuckle rapping nun in street clothes, Pam was deducting points right and left anytime one of the contestants lost eye contact with the judges.

Every time we went back to Pam for her play by play on the last tackle, she said the same thing.  Every.  Time.  It was Mississippi déjà-vu and I loved it.

Granted, half of the little niblets on the stage haven’t even mastered full control of both eyes at that age, but that don’t matter to Judge Pam.  Homey don’t play dat.

She can put up with that soft spot in a baby’s head, and maybe even some puréed Gerbers on the onesie…but get those eyeballs under control or you just lost yourself another tenth of a point.  At least one of those wandering orbs have to be focused on the judges at all times, or you’re going home empty handed.

By the time the crowning took place, both the Moms and the kids were cranky.

Liz got a Mini Supreme, which I guess is like the 6 inch grinder at Subway.  She always seems to get that crown, and she’s sick of it.

Sick of it.

Meltdown #1.

McKenzie got Grand Supreme and was pretty darn happy, and yet that still wasn’t enough for Mom who stomped her feet and justified it by stating “That’s what we do.  We win pageants.”

Second place is the first loser, as they say.

Adult Meltdown #1

Emma scored the 6 inch grinder for her age category, and Hope had to sit on her own hands so she wouldn’t swipe the trophy and crown for her private display case.  Mom pretty much got the vapors and let the glory of the moment pretty much take her to church.

And then the season was over.

As I pack up my gigantic tupperware container of crap and drag it back to the tour bus, I’ve gotta give one more shout out to all the great/crazy pageant peeps I’ve met since I started this mess.

Thanks to Paisley and Wendy and Blake and Katie and Mama and anyone else who didn’t try to sue me this season.  You guys rock.

Until next time, as Hank would say…

Sparkle, baby.

 

 

I never said her kid was ugly. I said butt ugly. Get it right.

 

 

 

 

Pffffthh…

 

 

 

 

Oh, it’s going down, bitch. I’ll wipe that smirk and all that Kool-Aid off your punk a** face.

 

 

 

 

Tastes like anxiety and vicarious living. With a hint of Mountain Dew.

 

 

 

 

Sorry, but I’ve tasted better wings and seen better boobs.

 

 

 

Whoa.

Now I don’t know this for a fact, and there’s a good chance I could be making it up, but somewhere in the Toddlers & Tiaras Corporate Offices there’s a Special Room reserved just for nights like tonight.

A room that only the Big Wigs know about, where they go to celebrate unleashing so much hot pageant mess on the rest of us that they need a moment alone to light up a smoke and unbutton the top button of their pants like it’s Thanksgiving afternoon.

We’ll call it sparkly pageant afterglow.

I know there’s a room like that, and it gets used a lot.  And tonight it was probably so full of Brooks Brothers suits puffing on Newports that they were over the Fire Code for a room that size.

Tonight’s episode celebrated all that disco and dysfunction have to offer, and it all came gift wrapped in a Hooters take out box.  I don’t even smoke, but by the time it was over I almost got dressed and went down to the 7-11 for a carton.

Full disclosure.  Since I gave birth to this odd little site last year, I’ve met some really great pageant peeps.  Believe it or not, they’re not all whackadoodle.  For realz.

(Shout out to Paisley, the world’s cutest nugget, and her entourage among others…)

But sometimes we just need some Crazy to keep us grounded.  And sometimes when you ask for crazy…it answers back.

Get some snacks.  Here we go.

Pageant Director Dena Jackson and her Jerseylicious raccoon liner eyeballs introduced us to the Beautiful Me Disco Diamonds Pageant.

If you suffer from even the mildest form of Epilepsy, that’s probably about as far into the episode as you lasted, because the Ramada banquet table full of strobe light trophies probably set off a seizure and you  lost consciousness when your head hit the floor.

Every sailboat owner should have a Prettiest Eyes trophy in their emergency kit in case they find themselves stranded at sea, because the International Space Station could track down those glitter flares.

That ballroom was like a bad acid trip, but before my pupils even dilated back to their normal diameter we were meeting little 2 year old SamiJo, her Mom Tricia and her Mom’s new boobs.

Knowing Tricia as we now do, they probably have names as well, but it was never discussed.  You can make up your own.

If you jump back a season to when we last met Tricia, she and her camo-wearing redneck husband were arguing about how much of their income had gone to pageants and breast augmentations.  Even without the aid of any psychic ability, you kind of knew where that whole relationship was headed.  While her new boobs were going North, her marriage was going South.

Jump back to the present, and Tricia is now divorced and living with her new boyfriend and all the OctoMom babies.  I forget exactly how many kids she had all together, but it was more than just SamiJo.  There were a couple of brothers for sure, because they were all eating wings and staring at her boyfriend.  ”HG” was in the hizzle, and the kids all seemed to like him, though they could have just been staring at the big “S” on his head.

I need to brush up on my street cred, because I guess the days of carving Nike swooshes into your hair are long gone.  Now it’s all about pageant girl initials.

HG had gone and gotten a custom piece of hair doodle art shaved into his scalp to show his support for SamiJo.  Touching, I guess,  but it kind of looked like he fell asleep and some street kids tagged the back of his skull like it was a restaurant dumpster.

But SamiJo liked it, even though she doesn’t know her alphabet yet.

And speaking of restaurants.

Since her divorce, Tricia has had to pick up a number of jobs to support her pageant habit, and let’s just say that none of them are at the Mall.

Tricia does “promotional work”…whatever that means…at tractor pulls and racetracks, is also one of those bikini Cage Girls who hold up signs during matches and still finds time to work at that “world famous wings” place.

You know the one.  Not KFC.  The other one.

That was definitely not a KFC uniform that she had on when she came home.  Hose her down and you have Spring Break right there at the kitchen table.  No wonder the boys were so bug eyed.  Maybe it wasn’t HG’s new doo after all.

To cleanse the palette after all that spicy breast meat, we scooted over to meet 3 year old Destiny and her Mom Sherrie.

Destiny showed us her Hula Girl shimmy, boinged around on one of those bouncy balls with the handles and just generally fell down a lot.  There was one delightful moment when she ran to the staircase banister and screamed that she wanted to dance on the pole.  That’s right.

That one was too easy, even for me….so please, do pause and insert your own joke right here.

I’ll wait.

“____________!”

Ha.  That was a good one.  Destiny’s Mom is gonna hate you for that.

Destiny is crazy cute in her interviews, but hasn’t quite figured out how to keep her tongue in her mouth.  Even Mom couldn’t poke it back in.  But the cute factor makes up for the drool bubbles.

Sherrie had maxxed out the three family credit cards to get her pageant fix and yet her husband had no clue, so I guess she takes care of the bills while he’s out in the shed guttin’ deer.  When we got a tour of that hatchet shop, complete with random pieces of dead deer laying in their own pools of blood, it was definitely a close second to the terror of the actual glitz pageant world.

As for maxxing out the cards?  The third card was supposed to be just for emergencies. I do NOT want to be around that house when the septic tank backs up and they’re trying to sop up all that poo with a Miss Pouty Face sash.

Ask Tricia for her divorce lawyer’s 800 number and keep it in a safe place.

Or just tape it to Destiny’s pacifier and you’ll never lose it.  That thing is always in her mouth, so you’ll always know where to find it.

And why is it called Pappy?  Makenzie’s Ni-Ni was cute.  But sucking on your Pappy?

Sorry.  That opens up a whole other can of country worms, thank you.

Finally we met 3 year old Camarie and her Mom Jennifer.  Mom called her a Brat.  The pageant director called her a Demon Child.  I was too busy ducking and dodging and trying to avoid all the candy and toys and appliances that Camarie was heaving around the house to decide what to call her.

She appeared to be one of those unmanageable kids who goes completely HyperSpaz, and then collapses like a bag of Idaho potatoes when you go to pick her up and toss her out the back door.  Camarie also spends every waking moment with a mouthful of Mike & Ike’s and a face full of cherry Kool-Aid stain.  Somebody get that kid a WetNap.

The history between Jennifer and Miss Hot Wings 2012 goes way back.  They met up at a few pageants, have pretty much grown to hate each other and have no qualms about talking smack to any stranger who will listen.  The tension has dripped onto their children as well, because the looks that Camarie and SamiJo shoot each other is worth the price of admission.

Tricia had previously referred to Camarie as ugly.  The Book of Mom says that is totally not cool.

In case you’re ever asked on a game show, Camarie was named after Calamarie…Mom’s favorite food while she was preggo.  That’s just messed up.  No way around it, unless you’re a Disney Mermaid.

There was so much chaos in this episode that the poor producers just kept tossing us back and forth from one noodle to another, hoping that we could retain it all and not get motion sickness.

I’m going to have to do the same, so we can get the rest of this in before the next episode airs.

To “create her own income” outside of the tip jar, Tricia had hired a photographer to shoot a calendar that she was going to sell around town.  Not a SamiJo calendar.  A Mommy in a Bikini calendar, like the ones you always see when you go to get a new muffler put on your Hyundai.

As Mom posed and popped her booty, little SamiJo fumbled with a cell phone and tried not to look.  Tricia claimed that even at a whopping 2 years of age and partially thanks to her own new breasts, SamiJo loves Victoria’s Secret and already has full comprehension of how the biz works.

Please.  Two years old?  She doesn’t even know how the toilet works.

All I know is that at any age, you do not want to see your own Mother doing a cheesecake pose in a bikini.  I’m pretty certain SamiJo was trying to figure out how to blind herself with the iPhone flash and not really surfing The Wiggles website.

We got to ride along with Destiny for her spray tan.  Once I got past the distraction of the ginormous Jersey bouffants on the front desk girls I could focus on Destiny getting a coat or two of Cocoa #45.

She refused to spit out Pappy, so the Jersey girls had to figure out how to tan her with a mouthful of Pappy…which then left her with a big white circle around her mouth and a dark Pappy.

There is just so much wrong with this episode.

SamiJo had a little practice session outside standing on what appeared to be giant pasties.  You know what I’m going to say, so I’m not even going to say it.  But thanks, Tricia.

She also bragged that SamiJo has Runway Swag and you can’t wash it off.  Gross.

Finally it was Pageant Day!

As I say every week, the event itself is never as exciting as the klusterf*** leading up to it, but there were still a few pieces to chew on.

Somehow Tricia and Jennifer ended up in the same hotel room for hair and makeup.  That was uncomfortable.

Catty looks, snarky digs and lots of smeared makeup.  Except for the room service menu on the desk, the scene could have been filmed in a women’s prison.  Take the lid off the toilet and toss a few switchblades on the floor, and there you go.  One of those Moms was going to get cut if they didn’t get to the stage asap.

The Beauty portion of the shindig was a downer.

SamiJo just stood there.  Period.  Where am I?  Tricia knelt behind her in a skirt so short that I thought they might have to pixelate the nasty parts for television.

The girl with the seafood name did ok.  Nothing great.

Destiny copied SamiJo and just stood there with her mouth open like a carnival game.  Three Pappies for a dollar! Aim for the mouth and win a prize!  The more Pappies, the bigger the prize!

For the Disco Wear portion, SamiJo was late because she was riding up and down the elevator with the OctoMom kids.  When she finally made it, she was wearing a doofy looking Hello Kitty kind of thing, which I can’t ever remember seeing in any disco movie.  Painting whiskers on her face was a nice touch, if this whole thing was being held at Destiny’s Carnival.

CalamityCalamarie wore go-go boots.  That’s all I remember.

Destiny did some crazy dance and then went off stage to chomp on Pappy.

The whole thing ended up with nobody winning what they really wanted to win, and with Tricia and Jennifer still hating each other.  If you really wanted a listing of who won what, you would be on a real website and not reading my witty sarcasm, am I right?

Oh, yeah.  It was good stuff.  But now it’s too late to go across the street for some smokes.

Say goodbye, Destiny:

 

 

When I tear up the stage, my hair can’t ever be bigger than my attitude or ego. Cuz I’m all that.

 

 

 

My goal is Ultimate Supreme…and to wear these earrings every day until they bury me in the backyard.

 

 

 

 

I got your Facebook ‘thumbs up’ right here, bitch.

 

 

 

 

Girrl, pleez. Then she was all up in the audience spying on my baby girl! I seen it with my own eyes.

 

 

 

Can I get a Woop Woop for my new flipper? Gabby’s in da house.

 

 

 

Step aside, Sarah Palin.

There’s a new Alaska on the map.

Maybe your Alaska was a nice place to visit and all, with all that great scenery and the whole glacier thing…but this Alaska is colder, bolder and capable of freezing out any competition that dares cross her border.

Being able to wave at Russia from your kitchen window doesn’t seem so special now, does it?

This week Toddlers & Tiaras brought two more classic Pageant Rivals together again, sparkled them up, sprayed them down and tossed them out onto the Ramada stage to go head-to-head at the Southern Celebrity: Fairytale Winter Pageant.

It was Alaska vs. Gabby locked in mortal combat for the crown.  The ultimate Glitz Rematch as it were.

To put it into the kind of military warfare terminology that the adults in Alaska’s life like to toss around during dinner…it was Mom vs. Mom with the kids used as human shields.

Pageant Director Maxine set the tone for the evening as she explained that to be in pageants you have to be cute.  (Pause for all the ugly people to change the channel.)

As if catching herself midstream, Maxine then backtracked a little and clarified that ugly people could potentially be cute if they endure a few hours in the makeup chair before they head to the salon for a new hairdo.

I guess the morale of the story was that cute people just don’t have to work as hard as ugly people if they want to do pageants.  At least that’s what I got out of it after I picked myself up off the floor and worried about the future of our country.

The first contestant we met was 6 year old Ava.  She kind of had a little mini Jennifer Lopez kind of thing going on, except with no bootay or front teeth.  I immediately liked her for no other reason than the resemblance, and the fact that she declared right away that people can’t beat her.  So there.

She was pretty darn cute, and her Mom Jennifer NotLopez seemed really nice and level headed.  Probably not what the producers were looking for, but sometimes you have to go with a little normal just to balance off all the Crazy that is coming to the table.

Jennifer NotLopez was proud to be a West Virginia Anti-Bumpkin, and was out to prove that some people in the Virginias actually have their own adult teeth and watch the Style Network.  Probably not enough to get Verizon to run Fios cable down Main Street, but still…point well taken.

Then it was on to 8 year old Gabby, accompanied by some random nameless girl who was always hanging around that I assumed was her sister or wardrobe assistant, and Mom Beth.

If you’re keeping score, right about now is when it started getting good.

Turns out that Gabby, all decked out in her fuzzy Rachael Zoe knock off vest, had previously gone up against the infamous Alaska in a number of pageants.  In the unwritten Rules of Glitz, that makes them instant rivals.

It also makes the Moms bitter enemies, so it was time to get snarky.

Beth was sewing up all new costumes for Gabby, which made her 8 year old chipmunk voice squeak even higher.  Beth was rather vague about the rivalry at this point, and only squinted and did a little jaw grind every time Alaska’s name came up in conversation.  So you knew sumthin wuz up, and she was not going to take any prisoners.

New clothes, new routine and a new flipper…all at once?  It was a veritable Pageantgasm.  One that could potentially be the extra artillery needed to finally take down Alaska.

And speaking of arsenal…it was time to go directly to the War Room and see what Alaska and her Mom Lori had planned for this attack.

According to the press release, and unfortunately Alaska herself, this kid is back.  And better than ever.

Her hair is a little longer, her mouth a whole bunch sassier and her ego has inflated to nuclear reactor proportions.  Nobody thinks Alaska is all that and a bag of chips more than Alaska herself.

Well, except maybe her Mom.

To ensure Alaska’s eventual takeover of the entire planet, Lori had created her own version of a military outpost in their home, which she referred to as her Pageant Arsenal.

Like a small country hoarding guns, bullets and illegal passports, Lori has amassed stacks of those Target Christmas ornament containers stocked with anything and everything that a 9 year old would ever need if she was suddenly called to Pageant War.

She also had to double up on the glue gun firearms because Alaska’s brother Braxton is also a soldier in the Glitter Brigade.

Braxton is the dude who was spotlighted in a previous T&T episode.  His claim to fame at the time was a Dorothy Hamill bowl cut and the Burger King crown he always seemed to be photographed wearing.  Somewhere along the line Alaska came out of his shadow, eclipsed him on the pageant circuit and left him behind like yesterday’s newspaper.

Tragic.  Even her own brother was a victim of the Pageant War.  We did get a glimpse of him this time around sitting in the barber chair, and a quick shot of him wearing that BK crown again at the actual show.  But this was Alaska’s spotlight…hit the road.  You’re blocking my shot, boy.

Lori claimed that she was not a crazy Pageant Mom.  Just Passionate.  That seems to be the hot go-to label lately when Moms try to weazle out of their noodle behavior.

Passionate is your Mom’s meatloaf recipe.  Love it.  And no one cooks it better.  That’s passionate.

Crazy is Lori.

We got to witness a little bit of LoriLunacy while Braxton was getting his bowl trimmed.  She sat in the salon and claimed that Beth and Gabby had paid to get into some GlitzGlamFest pageant to spy on Alaska and photograph her outfits with hidden infrared cameras.  I think she also said something about Beth swiping a sample from her daughter’s tongue to research her winning genetics, but I was too distracted by Lori’s earrings to focus.

Turns out those are her favorite earrings.  Or I assume they are, since she wore them everywhere, in every scene.

Even when she risked potentially blinding Alaska by dyeing her eyelashes with a sloppy Q-tip soaked in L’Oreal , those gigantic reflectors were dangling from her lobes.  You know she is totally wearing them in her drivers license photo.  The PTA ladies are probably keeping a tally when they talk s*** about her after the meetings.

As Alaska screamed that her eyes were burning due to Lori not being able to paint within the lines, some comic relief was there to lighten the mood.  Stepdad Jay.  The ultimate sidekick.

He’s always there.  Sitting in the salon.  Sitting in the kitchen.  Sitting at the pageant.  Sitting and sitting.  Then he gets up, moves to another chair, and sits down again.

Lori exasperates him a little I can tell.  He loves his kids, even though Alaska is slowly morphing into a Diva.  And not the good kind.  But he’s always there, if for no reason other than to do the heavy lifting when it’s time to move the arsenal into the van.

I swear he is on a WB sitcom, I just can’t remember which one.  If he’s not, he should be.

While Alaska was talking about how fabulous she was, and how she has no competition and tossing shade like a drag queen, Ava was practicing her car hop routine.

The only reason I mention it is because her little pug dog was wearing a t-shirt onesie thing, and dogs in clothes make me smile.

Finally it was Competition Day.  And that’s when it hit the fan.

We got the dirt on what happened between the Moms, and it wasn’t pretty.

Two words: Online.  Or is that one word?

How about Facebook Online?

Don’t these people ever learn?  You never show your junk online, and you never pick on the fat kid online.  Come on.

Seems that Beth was having a Facebook conversation with a friend, and Lori hacked into her Facebook page and read all about it, when it was not intended for her eyes.

Umm.  Newsflash.  That’s how Facebook works, Beth.

Whatever was said made Lori cry, and Alaska saw her cry, and it just got ugly.  So it sounds like they’ve been having an online war ever since.

In my absolute new favorite part of the show which I demand be in each episode from now on, they cut to all three Moms sitting uncomfortably side by side talking smack.  Like the Anderson Show, but without Anderson Cooper, who we love.

I assume they do this set up after every show is taped, kind of like when the Apollo astronauts splash land and have to go through that detox before they are released back out into the Real World.

As Lori and Beth get all bitch faced, poor Jennifer NotLopez is trapped in the middle just praying for a sink hole to open up and swallow her into the hot molten bowels of the Earth.

Classic TV Moment.  You could smell the snark.

Lori finished that scene up in style by stating that “You can’t fix stupid.”

Maybe not, but you can fix your teeth.  Oh snap.  Two can play this game.

The pageant itself was no big shakes.  Seen one Holiday Winter Extravaganza…seen them all.

But the judges were a gift from the Reality TV Gods.

Since the Ramada was booked solid for the event, it seemed that they needed to find something to keep the 80′s cover band busy.  So what better deal than judging?

Seriously.  Shut.  Up.  Where do they find these people?

Johnny Browning, who has either the best rocker name or the worst porn name ever, was head to toe 80′s Chess King from the Mall.  I’m not even sure where you find a salon that will still do that kind of haircut.

And he had the nerve to pick on Ava’s ginormous weave?

The other 80′s guy never spoke, but went to the same salon.

Third judge was Mrs. West Virginia, or Mrs Beckley, depending on which press release you read.  Either way it meant that they must have had to close the library for the day since she was moonlighting.

The last judge was just a judge.  Sorry, honey.  Nothing personal.

The bullet points:

Gabby got her flipper glued to her tongue for a second or two, and Alaska had the most faaaaabulous makeup boy evah.

Lori got all nasty about how she had seen Gabby’s dress “several times” and that the color was…well…if that’s the color they want to put her in…blah blah bitch.

Alaska again noted that she had no competition.  She also had no sense of time because she was late for her Winter Wear Rockette shimmy thang.

Her Diva shtick would be cute on a 3 year old, or even a Honey Boo-Bo child, but on Alaska it’s just her Mom’s DNA resurfacing and it’s not a good look.

Gabby’s Winter Wear was just wrong in so many ways.  When good vintage goes bad.

Lori still had those f***ing earrings on.

Alaska had a DivaFit when her hair was too big.  I would have been more concerned that the fake part didn’t match the real part, but that’s just me I guess.  And she was seriously tanned.  Baked Alaska.

Beth and Jennifer NotLopez took the high road and really showed some mad Mom skills when they taught their kids how to clap and be thankful for any crown they received.  They both teared up when discussing the effect of the pageant on their daughters.

Lori, on the other hand, rubbed Alaska’s Ultimate Grand Supreme crown in everyone’s face and stated that everything turned out just fine.  Right when the show ended I think she was about to do a Victory Lap around the Ballroom with her finger in the air.

Alaska, of course, noted that she would always be gorgeous but would get plastic surgery by the time she was 100 maybe.

Pretty hurts.

But not as much as the slap that someone is gonna give her if she doesn’t dial it down.

Kids today.  Don’t they read Facebook?