Posts Tagged ‘Toddlers and Tiars Blog’

Toddlers & Tiaras: Jump Up And Try To Catch A Handful Of Crazy Beads, Because It’s Time For Miss Mardi Gras Madness! Whatever Floats Your Float.

Thursday, July 19th, 2012

 

 

Well, it ain’t no Booty Pop Cop, but whatever brings home the big a** crown, bitches.

 

 

 

 

Whoa. Seriously. What the hell? When did it stop being all about me? This sucks like a Ni-Ni.

 

 

 

 

 

When I close my eyes at night, in my head I pretend I’m Ryan Seacrest and then I cry a little.

 

 

 

 

Watch and learn. This is how you put the ragin’ in cajun. Any questions?

 

 

 

 

 

That’s what I’m talking about. Toss me some beads and show me your flippers, girls!

 

 

 

Forget Fat Tuesday.

Been there.  Done that.

The party starts on Sparkle Baby Wednesday.

And who better than our favorite glittery guilty pleasure Toddlers & Tiaras to show us how Mardi Gras was supposed to have been done all these years?

This week it was all about the Miss Mardi Gras Madness Pageant in beautiful Shreveport, Louisiana.  And believe me, the South was ready to represent.

In case there was actually anyone alive on planet Earth who had never heard of Mardi Gras or T&T (…which, before we were even presented with any of the deets already sounded like it had the potential to be one of the most lethal, sparkly combinations ever…) Pageant Director Tonya Bailey came to our rescue to make certain that we all understood the guidelines and expectations of the event.

Tonya is a pretty big deal on the Glitz Circuit, what with having her own namesake Barnum & Bailey’s Pageants biz, or whatever it is called.  But as impressive as that may be on her resume, she has quickly come to be even better known for some seriously crazy a** eyeballs that demand both unwavering attention and hourly Visine drips.

And then as if that pair of jumbo marbles wasn’t enough notoriety, way back in an earlier episode, in a clumsy attempt at defending the pageant art form against all the haterz in the hizzle, Tonya took the adult lollipop out of her mouth and kinda sorta replaced it with her foot.

And I quote.  Almost…

“I think that it’s easy for someone to say that beauty pageants are abusive.  You can see a girl in gymnastics all day long, and she doesn’t even get to eat. At least these kids get Pixie Stix.”

Defense rests.  Case goes to the Jury.

Oy.  Sometimes I swear Girlfriend is putting the drops in her drink instead of her eyes.  I think it might be time for somebody to start reading labels.

The first contestant’s intro started out with quite a bang.  Actually, it was a bang that sounded more like a bean fart, but I think it was supposed to be a bang.

Victoria, who was someone related to 5 year old Tori and pretty much dropped into the first scene from a tree branch, totally nailed her own 15 minutes of fame before we even got a glimpse of the first pageant hopeful by running in front of every live camera shot carrying one of those Playdough cans that make butt gas noises when you poke them.

Vicky even attempted to mangle a few LMAO lyrics by declaring that “I’m gassy and I work out.”

Nice try, honey.  But it’s either “I’m gassy and I know it” or don’t even bother.  I don’t play when it comes to my dance tunes.  Mmmkay?

Tori was a little pageant cutie, but before she could even open her mouth and demonstrate that cuteness, Mom Ali had to go and open hers.

It was right around that point that I can guarantee you most of America probably did their first head slap, all on cue with the first nugget of Ali’s observational wisdom.

Even though Ali’s eyes were much smaller and less penetrating than Ms. Bailey’s, she didn’t seem to have as much control of them as they rolled and squinted and generally tossed their own attitude around the room.  She also liked to stick her tongue out a lot to add another layer of emphasis to all the wisdom she was spewing.

For starters, we learned that everyone who thinks her daughter is not the bomb diggity was ignorant.  So ignorant they deserved her deadly blaahhhh tongue.

We also learned early on that you don’t need to spend half your husband’s paycheck on an expensive dress, because pretty kids don’t need expensive dresses.

It’s the ugly kids who need the fluffy dresses.  True dat.  The ugly ones.

The f**ing uglier the kid, the fuglier the dress, as the saying goes.

If you see a kid in a big, fluffy cupcake dress than you know even her Mama knows she’s ugly.  And you can’t fix ugly, you can only fluff it.

Gospel.  If I’m lying, I’m dying.  From the mouth…and tongue…of Ali.

As Ali went to check on how many big, fluffy dresses she had purchased from Kohl’s in grown-up sizes, we scooted over to 10 year old Jasmine‘s crib.

Jazz…look at me, I just gave her a nickname whether she wants one or not…is going to be a long and lean Diva Machine when she grows up.  Not just because she kept telling us that she would, but because you could just tell.

Without breaking into the house and looking at her birth certificate, I’m going to assume she is on the late end of 10, only because she is getting pretty tall.  Mom Tiffanie better brace herself for some heartbroken boys in the near future, because Jazz is percolating some fierceness that is gonna need to be served up in a jumbo cup when it’s hot enough.

Aunt Denetra, who also played the role of Pageant Coach and Giver of the Sass, had it all going on and put Miss Jazz through her paces during rehearsals.

Mom and Auntie were both a hoot, and you could totally tell that they tear out magazine photos and change their looks every time they go and get their hair did.

The only time I flinched was when Jazz went on and on about how much she loved herself.  She loved herself more than anyone else loved her.  Ever.  And there should be a reward for being awesome.

And someone should bottle it and call it Jazz’s Awesome Sauce.

Better watch that, missy.  That kind of ‘tude is cute when you’re 5 and running around the house in your undies with a towel for a Superman cape (…Look at me!  I’m flying in my underwear and I’m freakin’ awesome!…) but on the late end of 10 you’re almost asking to get slapped on your 11th birthday by a girl in gym class.  Just be careful.

Contestant number three turned out to be everyone’s favorite booty poppin’ cop, 6 year old Amiya.

As Mom Laura explained, accompanied by a classic T&T flashback, Amiya is best known for the racy tube top booty pop police officer outfit she squeezed into for a previous competition.  The one where she stood on the hood of a Big Wheel cop car and shook what Laura gave her while handcuffed bank robbers threw ink stained dollar bills and did double duty as back up dancers.

(Part of that may have been fabricated, before you go and waste any valuable time Googling youtube videos.)

Pageants were Laura’s way of helping Amiya break out of her shell.

I think we can check that one off the bucket list.

Prepping for the big day is always more fun to watch than the actual event, and almost always more fun for everyone involved as well.  But nothing can ruin that fun more than opening your FedEx box and hating your new glitz dress.  Just ask Tori.

Tori is a pint sized fashionista.  Kind of like Kim Kardashian without the big butt, adult teeth and sex tape.  So she knows what she likes and dislikes, and when Dad Michael came home with her new dress stuffed in a cardboard box, she wanted that thing returned to sender asap.

First meltdown of the evening?  Check.

Jasmine’s practice sessions really cut into her ice cream consumption, but Auntie had the final say.  With her Game Face fully adhered, Denetra werked it up into a lather with young Jasmine, though at times it wasn’t clear exactly what hip actions Auntie was trying to choreograph because she was wearing the oddest pair of high rise Urkel pants I’ve ever seen on a sistah.  But I loved her.

Amiya apparently had a better handle on her stage routine, because she could afford the time to hit the town for some age inappropriate French tips.  The nail tech was not a big fan of the idea, but nothing can change someone’s mind faster than a bullying Pageant Mom and a full tip jar.

Acrylics adhered?  Check.

Someone needs to make a crown in the shape of a John Deere trucker cap so we can have a special award for Most Time, Effort  & Money Spent on a stage prop.  And then immediately give that bad boy to Tori’s Dad, because Mike must have missed most of hunting season to build that monster truck float contraption she got to ride into town on.

What started out as one of those plywood boxes that you cover your sump pump with ended up morphing into one sweet motorized Mardi Gras float, thanks to most of Tori’s first year of tuition and a hidden 4wheeler.

Not gonna lie.  I was kind of jealous.  My tongue was hanging out almost as far as Ali’s.

Spray paint the BatSignal on the side and I can think of about ten places right off the top of my head where I would love to make an entrance riding that thing.  It even had a gas pedal that Tori got to step on to make it scoot across the highway in her Michael Jackson costume.

Seriously.  Once it was all decorated with balloons and glitter and tinsel you could totally take that bitch 4wheeling on Fire Island or plow through the wall of RuPaul’s Drag U like a tucked wrecking ball.

I raise a glass of Jazz’s Awesome Sauce to you, dude.  Well played.

Since it was cool, but not licensed for state highways, Mike had to figure out how to transport that monstrosity and then everyone was off to the pageant.  I’m going to assume Ali’s tongue was flapping out the side window the whole way like a german shepherd.

There was, of course, the required drama in the hotel rooms before Miss Mardi Gras Madness was unleashed on the public.

Amiya’s Mom never had time to get the cupcake dress actually fitted, so as Laura went all DIY spaz on the thing with staples and pins and a soldering gun, she broke the back chain.

Panic mode activated?  Check.

Dad Reginal (…I know, right?  Someone really has that name.  I thought it was just on sitcoms…) helped Mom channel her inner MacGyver, and through the magic of hair bows, safety pins and chewing gum they managed to keep the dress together.

As far as NOT keeping it together goes…that one was all Ali.

For reasons which she never fully divulged, Mom had hired Dane Dane McAlister to rat up Tori’s hair.  Since I don’t normally style my own ‘do in anything remotely resembling Pageant Hair before I leave for work, I can’t really speak to how big a deal Dane Dane is in the world of big hair.  But I guess she must be sumthin sumthin if she gets hired to do this kind of work work.

Or not.

Review the video tape.  I don’t know what was going on up there, but it wasn’t good.

Half curled.  Half straight.  Half flat ironed.  And the last half never even saw a comb.

Ali pretty much just repeated over and over how much she hated the hair and cried for the rest of the show.  She really should have just left early to beat traffic.

Emcee Todd Bailey was as hyped up about the show as the other Bailey was.  It can’t be just a coincidence that they both have the same last name, but I’m too lazy to go find out the connection.  Since I don’t feel like creeping Facebook to find out how they’re related, in my head I’m just going to make up some story about him being her younger cougar lover.  I’m sure it’s nothing as exotic as that.  Maybe someday when I have time on my hands I’ll look into it.

Not to steal the spotlight from this weeks trifecta, but for me the highlight of the whole Mardi Gras thing was seeing my girl Makenzie Myers back from the dead!!

Where you been, girl? Hit me up.

Man, I miss her meltdowns.  You want me to what?  I’m sorry.  I’m not doing it.

Then the pageant happened, and some kids did some stuff.  Amiya got a little dingled up in her party streamer archway, and somebody off stage stepped on the power cord right when Jasmine’s music was supposed to start.  After a brief freeze frame, she pulled it together and made Auntie proud.

Tori managed to keep control of her rolling army tank and didn’t drive off the stage and crush anyone.

Then some kids won some stuff.

Oh, please.  Just like when I ramble on and on about Dance Moms, you ain’t here for the judging transcripts.

It was madness, I tell you.

Mardi Gras Madness.

Toddlers & Tiaras: Not Even Your Pageant Arsenal Can Prepare You For Survival In The Frigid Alaska Frontier. It All Goes Down In A Fairytale Winter Wonderland Mom vs. Mom Face Off.

Thursday, April 12th, 2012

 

 

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?


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