Archive for the ‘Pop Culture’ Category

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: Vajiggle Bells, Jaggle Bells. Jiggle All The Way! Redneckognize Them? Santa Brung The Honey Boo Boo Holiday Portrait!

Tuesday, December 18th, 2012

I miss Honey Boo Boo Child.

That’s right.  I said it.  I own it.

I miss everyone’s favorite Redneck Pageant Princess.

Especially during the Holidays, when we should all be together.

Or the HOLLAdays, as they like to call it down at the Bingo lodge.

Yes.  I know all the Boo Boos are coming back soon.  TLC is getting ready to roll out four special Dolla Make Me HOLLAday episodes beginning in January.  And yes, I’m already stocking up on cheese balls and ribs.  I’m anticipating an apocalyptic run on Redneck snacks the first night, so I’m doing some June-worthy hoarding before the Big Event, just in case.

But when you’re suffering from Redneck ‘drawals, January is still a long way away, ya’ll.

I need me some Boo.  Now.

Luckily, Smiley’s Flea Market and Yard Sale in Macon, Georgia came to my rescue with the Official Honey Boo Boo Family Portrait this past weekend.

After spending some quality time snooping around for pageant props and other randomness, Momma June, Sugar Bear, Chickadee, Pumpkin, Chubbs and little Baby Kaitlyn Elizabeth all plopped down in front of one of those Kmart-like pull down screens, smiled for the camera and showed The Kardashians how it’s supposed to be done.  Take that, Khloé.

No photoshopping in MIA family members for the Boo Boo Clan, thank you very much.

The family is also giving back in a big way again, just as they did last summer.

In lieu of train track warning lights to prevent an Acela business coach from plowing into the side of their house, the gang has once again blindingly decorated their home for the holidays and is running toy drives each night for donations in support of Wilco For Kids.

Sugar Bear happily gets himself all decked out in that now infamous smelly Santa Suit and poses for photos with children and/or Go-Go Juice Groupies each night, and the amount of toys and supplies they have already recieved is impressive.

Alana’s Facebook page even keeps you updated on weather reports and lighting schedules, just like Rockefeller Center.

Baby Kaitlyn totally gives all this Holiday Spirit three thumbs up.

And for those of you who want to get a jump on clearing DVR space, here you go…

Halloween Special…Sunday, January 6 @ 9pm

Thanksgiving Special…Sunday, January 13 @ 9pm

Best Of Clip Show…Sunday, February 10 @ 8pm

Christmas Special…Sunday, February 17 @ 8pm

Everything is EST and, of course, subject to last minute changes.

Because I’m not the TV Guide Channel…and Honey Boo Boo Badger don’t give a s***.

Happy Holladays.

Toddlers & Tiaras: Frosted Tips And Whitestrips. It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas At The Universal Royalty Pageant. Who’s Yer Daddy?

Saturday, December 15th, 2012




You think a $4,000 dress can’t be real? You should see my honeymoon photos.







Oh. Hell. No. White people are crazy.







With a toy for each gay and boy…we are Santa’s elves.







Dat’s my baby. She’s holding it all wrong, but that’s my baby. I swear.






Ok. I may be only 3 months old, but I know this shizzle is seriously f***d up.







You get no dress for $4,000!! Lady right. White people crazy.





They’re baaaack!

And even more importantly…she’s baaaack!

Toddlers & Tiaras and Annette Hill are back, bitches.

Christmas came early this year as TLC snuck in a new episode of America’s unspoken glitzy, guilty pleasure one week ahead of the official season premiere.  Surprise!

It totally screwed up my DVR and my pre-game snack planning, but when a gift comes preloaded with as much lunacy as this one did…I’m not complaining. Hand it over.

Plus it had Annette.  And I do love me some Annette.

I’m not sure why exactly, since she isn’t nearly as whacky as some of the other Pageant Directors that we’ve been introduced to over the years.  Not even close.  And you know I also love me some cray cray.  The cray cray-er the better, actually.

But what Annette lacks in wide eyed hyper-enthusiasm and inappropriate lollipop licking (…you do remember the episode with that blonde director going to town on that fine piece of sugar, right? Eeew…) she more than makes up for with Fierceness.

Cuz Annette Hill don’t play.

The last time we got to hang out with Annette she was working that Motown pageant and threatening to get all her junk up on stage and shake what her Momma gave her.  We can only hope the cameras were rolling for that one and that one day we’ll finally get to see her in action on some Director’s Cut DVD.

But this time around it was all about Christmas and Glitz.  Universal Royalty style.  So grab some holiday Chex Mix…this is gonna take awhile.

Our first tiny princess was 3 year old Katlyn and her Mom Kymberli, who both had a little Annette DNA up in there somewhere.

Katlyn was approximately 28 pounds of OhNoYouDin’t as she sassed her way around the bedroom while Mom explained how Divalicious her daughter was for such a young age.  She was a 5th generation pageant girl, born and raised like royalty livestock.

And Baby Girl was poised to take on the world.

Based on volume, Mom contained a substantially larger percentage of the OhNoYouDin’t chromosome than Katlyn, and was therefore mathematically even more Divalicious.

Hey, I’m not hatin’.  I loved her.  And I totally want to hang with Kymberli and Annette when they go clubbin’ on the weekends.  Can you even imagine…? I don’t even have enough bail money in my savings account to cover that trip to the Apollo.  Call me.

But even Dad said that Mom didn’t look like she was starving.  She was a hoot with that bleached, flat ironed synthetic VH1 hair that just made you want to pop off on somebody.

And the apple don’t fall far from the tree, because Grandma Kelli had it going on, too.

But her name is NiNi, not Grannie.  Or at least I think that’s how you spell it.  They never clarified.  But that’s how I’m going to spell it, just so nobody mistakenly thinks that the other NeNe has a grand baby doing pretty feet in Austin.

The other one is very rich, bitch.  She don’t need  your big a** trophy and dollar bill fans, mmmkay?  Bloop.

(Yes, in hindsight…if you don’t watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta you probably could have just skipped over that last paragraph and gotten to the finish line a little quicker.  My bad.)

And then we met Christopher.

Spray tanned, frosted tipped, Crest whitestripped, nervous lipped Christopher.

I just can’t.

Christopher was (allegedly) the Pageant Dad to 9 year old Hailey.  A single father (allegedly) married to Laura for 7 years.

Again.  I just can’t.

I know I make up a lot of stuff when I write.  And I may snark a little.  Once in awhile.

But I just can’t.

Remember The Dick Van Dyke Show?  Two twin beds with a nightstand in between?

Christopher was straight (…no pun intended, but nonetheless hilarious…) out of Central Casting with his Stretch Armstrong face and California Glow spray tan.  The Justin Timberlake *N Sync hair was also a nice touch, as was the twitchy wink that punctuated nearly every sentence.

Let’s just say that I went to college with a lot of “Christophers” who “dated” a lot of “Lauras” when they weren’t waitering at The Cheesecake Factory or painting sets for West Side Story and leave it at that.  I don’t want to influence your opinions on the topic.  You know me by now.  I would never do that.

But before we move on, I’ll just add that those “Christophers” were also the ones who wore those year round euro-trash scarves wrapped five times around their necks and wouldn’t even put on a hat in a blizzard because the static might mess up their tips.

You can just tell Hailey’s Dad owns about 6 pair of those 180 wrap around  the back of your head ear muffs that are always stacked up in the aisles at Macy’s on Black Friday.  You know he does.

And now I’m done.

Christopher’s goal, aside from actually participating in the pageant himself, was to bring Hailey out of her shell.  She was quite shy.  And expressionless.  And yawned a lot.  Good luck with that.

Our final contestant this week was 3 year old Ava, who was so busy clubbing her big brother in the head with a ceramic piggy bank that she barely looked up at the camera.

Mom Monica had that subtle deer in the headlight smile that a Mom always has when she’s attempting to distract company from noticing that her son may have a chunk of white ceramic and two silver dollars embedded in his skull.

You are correct, Mom.  Ava’s a handful.

Then it was off to retrieve Hailey’s $4,000 dress at Muzzie’s, which coincidentally enough, was also the name of the bar that many of my college “Laura” friends went to one night instead of sitting through another West Side Story dress rehearsal.

I just can’t.

Christopher had hooked up Hailey with a stylist.  For her first pageant.  And his name was Ephraim Danforth.

Of course it was.

Somehow, the $4,000 dress had required another $1,000 in alterations and was now ready for pick-up.  Not being a tailor, I can only assume that for $1,000 the gown either now has the Power of Invisibility or will help Hailey fly when she eventually jumps out the window clutching her college education bank book.

Five seasons into T&T, the best thing that came out of the trip to Muzzie’s was that we finally got clear and concise directions on how one walks in a pageant gown from Ephraim Danforth himself.

On the outside, you should look like royalty and walk with your hands slightly scooping your dress as you heel/toe your way down the runway towards Buckingham Palace.

On the inside, you should look like you just scored Streisand tickets at Madison Square Garden.  Box seats.  With a Meet & Greet.

You need to Google it.  Ephraim is my new fabulous screensaver.  I think he even wet himself a little.

When I finally get to go clubbin’ with Kymberli and Annette we’re gonna have to take a 4 door, because we are absolutely swinging by Salon Mia Bella and picking up nail tech Shumei.  She is the tech who drew the short straw and had to give Hailey a french manicure while Christopher twitched and got all jealz on the other side of her station.

When she got wind of the $4,000 dress during an hour of awkward silence, she almost poked her own eye out with a file.

She could buy car for dat!

And then she laughed so big that I wanted to go to a restaurant in Chinatown and hug somebody.  Shumei needs to have a scene every week.

Back at Casa Diva, Katlyn was being shrink wrapped inside a makeshift snow globe.

Literally.  Shrink wrapped.  Like pork chop leftovers.

Mom and Dad were trying to figure out a creative way to design their holiday prop without cutting off all their daughter’s oxygen or alerting Child Services.  Saran Wrap didn’t seem like it would be the way to go as NiNi said a prayer for help.  That’s about when I realized that NiNi is big on that.

Jesus, take the wheel.  Jesus, take the snow globe.  Jesus, help me find the remote.  As we moved on to the pageant, NiNi kept asking Jesus for everything but glue sticks, which made her that much more endearing.

Makenzie was right.  I want my NiNi.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Annette was all gold and full o’ glitz and ready to get it done as the girls began the customary hotel room meltdowns.

Ava didn’t like people yanking on her ‘do and was getting ready to fling another piggy bank unless they wrapped this thing up quickly.

Down the hall, NiNi and Kymberli had apparently just returned from the MTV Music Awards where they performed a medley of their hits, because I can’t think of any other reason why they would be so overdressed for a kids pageant.  And packing cowbells.

If they could get Katlyn half as blinged up as they were for the pageant then Baby Girl was bringing home the Gold, fo’ sho.  I hope they get that dressed up when we all go out for ribs.

As Hailey sat comatose in the chair, the hairstylist that Christopher had paid good money for was falling further and further behind and Dad’s nerves, patience and rubber face were all being pushed to their limits.

He even offered to take Hailey back to his room and do the hairstyling himself.  I’m guessing that means that he had hot rollers and Aqua Net in his carry on, which was…convenient.

I just can’t.

Ava’s ambition when she grows up was to be a doctor.  If that’s really the case, I hope she responds faster with the crash cart than she did during the Beauty portion of the show.  It just didn’t happen.  Even Judge DJ Pecktal took off her glasses like a naughty school teacher in a hard rock music video and commented on how dazed little Ava appeared on stage.

I’m hoping DJ is laying tracks at the club the night I hit the town with the girls, because she seemed like she could get a party started.

Katlyn’s ears bled a little from NiNi wailing on the cowbell, but it was all out of love.

Hailey missed her call and never got to walk the stage with her age group because everyone was still yanking on her hair back up in the room.  Through the bronzer you could tell that Christopher’s cheeks were burning red with anxiety and I could already feel a Celine hissy fit coming on.

He eventually pulled two other hair and makeup people out of thin air and got Hailey down to the ballroom, but it was too late.  But not too late to angrily sashay right up to the podium (…tuck your shirt in, dude…) and get all up in Annette’s face.  Daddy likes it rough, I guess.

Turns out he had paid Annette’s company for the faulty hair lady and demanded that Hailey’s deducted points be added back into her score.  Annette listened, but didn’t really look at him.  Like your Mom does when you are whining about something and she’s trying to watch her stories.

Ok, dear.  That’s nice, dear.  Here’s your lousy three points, you big cry baby.

Christopher even hugged her, and probably got more creeped out than she did.

Pageant Girl Cooties.

For the Christmas Wear portion, nothing says Holiday like stealing decorations from a hotel lobby and sticking them on a life size snow globe, I always say.

Kymberli and Dad panicked a little the night before, bailed on their Saran Wrap death trap and instead chose to ransack the hotel for some festive decor.  Which they promised to return after snagging a trophy for Katlyn.

Jesus, take the security camera.

Ava stood in a Christmas dress.  Period.

Hailey ended up on stage dressed as an elf, singing off-tempo to a track that sounded like those old pull string toys when the battery is just about to die.  Cute, maybe, for a 3 year old.  But for a 9 year old? Deduction.

As she began a slow slide down to the floor to finish the routine, it looked like someone had accidentally knocked one of those creepy Elf On A Shelf dolls off the mantel and didn’t even try to catch it.

Christopher was not happy.  And called the whole thing a surprise, which was a little odd considering that he helped carry the props, saw his daughter dressed up like an elf and (allegedly) lives in the same house with her.  Not to mention that he was clutching the Elf Microphone the whole time he was harassing my girl Annette.

Unless he had something else in his luggage that looked like a fat candy cane with a knob on the end that took AA batteries.  He was holding it for crying out loud.  What part of this was a surprise?

I just can’t.

Then some kids won some stuff.

Katlyn had enough trophies for a yard sale.  NiNi testified “Here comes Santa Claus! Here Comes Santa Claus!” like she was wearing a big hat in church.

Ava got a little sumthin sumthin that made her happy but made Dad Victor insist that she was robbed.

Hailey lost to a girl in a cupcake dress.  One that probably didn’t cost $4,000.

Two happy girls.  One, not so much.

But Dad was there to support poor Hailey by yelling at her to pick up the hem of that $4,000 dress as they exited the hotel.   Don’t make me show you how to walk in that dress, Girlfriend.

To paraphrase Ryan Seacrest…Christopher, out.

Happy Holidays.

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: It Was Time To Get Your Swagger On And Dance For Your Life. You Got Me Buggin’…It’s The Grand Finale.

Wednesday, December 12th, 2012



Is it just me, or does anyone else smell sweat and hair gel? I’m kinda digging it.






Can I get a Whoop Whoop if you wanna see some sass tonight? Holla.





The PCD Cougar Tour. Coming soon to a mall near you. Momma still got it.






Two haters have left the building. And that means more booze for the rest of us, Girlfriend.





Told you so. Proof that Lady Gaga and MC Hammer did indeed have a Love Child. Too Legit.





Crimpin’ ain’t easy, Miss Thang. Okay?







I forget. Did I already call Kristie a Bitch?




The Few.  The Proud.  And the Sassy.

It was down to the Final Three as Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition got ready to crown the first evah winner.

After 10 grueling weeks of jazz hands and Mom dramzz, one lucky girl was going to exit stage left with a cheeta print suitcase stuffed full of money and a scholarship to the Joffrey Ballet.

It was the Grand Finale.  The End of the Road.  And in the tradition of other great Results Night competitions (…are you listening, Dancing With The Stars?…) it was time to milk a 12 second announcement into a two hour extravaganza.

Only three little dancers remained in the Ring.

Well, actually…two little ones and one really little one.  And they were all ready to rumble.

Brianna aka Big Red.  The former study hall outcast who had shown all those Mean Girls watching back home how it’s really done.  I’m on TV.  What are you doing tonight, bitches?  Suck it.

Madison aka Stone Cold.  Originally presumed to have been born without facial muscles, she was finally learning how to make the corners of her mouth go up and show the emotion within each dance.  They call it “emoting” in the Dance World, by the way.

In case you’re ever on Jeopardy, I just gave you a freebie.  And you’re welcome.

Asia aka Sassy Pants.  Genetically bred from a swabbed culture stolen from a medical storage unit in the basement of Beyoncé’s California mansion, Miss Monet Ray had not yet fully mastered all the required techniques to make it to MTV.

But really…when you can booty pop a boy off the see saw and into the side of the monkey bars without even looking up from your Hello Kitty iPhone, does it even matter?

Whether it’s the first week or the last, though, nothing starts without the Group Challenge.  Rules are rules.

For the final time, the Kevin Manno Fashion Show escorted Abby Lee Miller into the rehearsal space for a breakdown of the last challenge as the girls and Moms all gathered around like someone had just wheeled in one of those Hickory Farms holiday kiosks.

It was Casual Tuesday at the AUDC offices this week.  Abby rolled out of bed and into her trademark track suit (…yet still managed to accessorize it with enough bling to blind someone during the final turn in a 5K…) while my hero Kevin attempted to wear as much blue denim as the human eye could handle without any long term damage.

Dude.  My man.  Love you.  But you kinda looked like that pile of Back to School jeans in the middle of a JCPenney aisle that’s never folded correctly on a Saturday.

But the Kevster still had those nervous hands and zig zagging puppy eyes that make him so endearing (…What’s that?  What’s that? Gotta pee…) so you know where my checkmark is going on the People’s Choice Awards ballot.

Kevin was also rocking yet another yellow crew neck tee.  At first I thought the dude just did laundry every night and really liked his soft touch Hanes since he’s worn it almost every week, but now I’m starting to think that he might just be some kind of Superhero and that the yellow is his spandex popping out under his collar.

Seriously.  How cool would that be in the middle of the last dance if some gigantic “K” flashed in the sky and he ripped open his tuxedo and flew out the window?  That would be so cool.  You know it would be.

To shake (…and wobble…) things up a little this time, Abby herself was the choreographer for the challenge, and I’m ashamed to admit how excited I got at the prospect of finally seeing her…umm…I dunno…choreograph maybe?  We all know that back on Dance Moms she spends most of her time sitting on that black box full of whoknowswhat, so the thought of seeing her actually work her alleged magic got me all excited.  I almost moved the coffee table so I could participate in the festivities.

But no such luck.  She still walked and talked her booty pop like an early morning Mall Walker.  No dancing for you.

But that was probably because the heat was so high in the rehearsal space, right?  It must have been, because Abby was sweating like a whore in church.

A whore wearing a snorkel jacket over her wool sweater.

Sitting in the pew that was directly above the floor’s heating duct.  Wrapped in one of those electric blankets from QVC that shut themselves off when you pass out from dehydration so you don’t burn your house down.

That whore.  But I’m not here to judge.

Madison won the 15 minute challenge and got to pick the order that the three girls would perform their solos.  Cash would have been nice, but you get what you get.

 All three girls then scooted off to work on their solo numbers.

Brianna and Gina “Mocha Grande” Starbuck tried to figure out how to unleash the Softer Side of Brianna while Ricky Palomino ran around just being Ricky.

Because being Ricky is faboooo enough.  The spiked music video jacket he wore in the audience during the final competition?  It gives me life.

Molly Long tried to channel Asia’s inner Fashionista, which as far as I could tell just required popping in a CD and going out for some snacks.  Miss Asia doesn’t seem to have any problems being a Diva, y’all.  Picking up choreography?  There’s a few issues.

But the whole Diva thang?


Then it was time for one more twist.  Just like on Project Runway when some Drama Queen spits out a straight pin because he/she has to make a third outfit with only $14.75 worth of fabric from Mood.

If you put your ear to the ground you probably could have heard the oncoming stampede of dancing buffalo as Zack, Elisabeth, Hadley, Lexine, Jordyn and Amanda came bounding down the stairs.

Cue the hysteria.

There were hugs and screams and cries so high pitched that dogs ran in circles and that newly launched North Korean missile fell back into the ocean.

Kristie did some quick math in her head and realized that six more kids probably meant six more Dance Moms must be parking the cars.  And unless Hadley drove herself to LA, Kristie’s arch enemy Yvette couldn’t be far behind.

Oh, s***.  And then it just got ugly.

You know when you haven’t watched your favorite soap opera for a really long time, and then you finally get the chance to tune in and it’s like they’re still on the same day?

As in: nothing has changed?  It was like that.

Maria started right in on how unfair the judging was because Lexine kept getting hip hop and she doesn’t do hip hop.  And that rant got Gina so excited that she jumped right onto the pig pile and did some Asia bashing of her own while Kristie did that squint thing she always does and swung her tea bag string around.

You ever notice how that woman is always holding a Starbucks?  I mean, always.  I swear that if you pull the cup out of her hand, her fist is still curved like an army action figure when you lose the plastic gun.

I love me some JLo, but I’m worried that she’s going to end up with a heart murmur.  She is a little wide-eyed already.

Abby basically shut down every Mom and then sent them to the Green Room to get their champagne buzz on while the kids rehearsed the group number.  That worked out about as well as you would imagine.

One minute on the couches and the only thing missing was a cardboard Andy Cohen cut out and some 3×5 cards as everyone went all low-rent Real Housewives on each other.

Maria wanted to toast all the kids and Moms with her iParty click-together champagne glass, but Kristie wouldn’t toast with haters.  Yvette got all Crazy Smile and everybody flashed back to a medley of their throw downs.

Go ahead.  Hit me.  Hit me.

Yvette even tried to toast them all, which drove Kristie, her tea bag and Kelly out the door and up the stairs to wherever that place is that everyone always went when they were having a meltdown.

Before the final show, we had some quality time with the judges as they mentored the three remaining dancers.  Just like on The Voice.

It was pretty predictable and uneventful, though it did give me a chance to really study Richy‘s crop circle hair carving and notice his chin strap beard thing that all the boys on Jerseylicious used to sport.  If it’s good in the ‘hood, as they say…

We also got to see Robin almost flash some side boob in her tiny tank top, which also reminded me of The Voice and momentarily distracted me from the fact that there were children in the room.

The final rehearsal before the big event was the trio, which was a hot mess according to Coreen…and probably anyone with a television.  Let’s just say that it was pretty easy to figure out which dancer was the 7 year old as the other two kicked over her head with legs that had to have been at least 3 feet longer than her little catwalkers.

Finally, it was Showtime!

The Green Room was fully stocked with more sugar and liquor than the Jersey Shore house and everyone immediately face planted right into the goodies.  In all honesty, I’ll admit to having a Junior High Prom flashback when the little kids came in all squeaky clean in their fancy grown up clothes.  It was Dress Up Day, fo’ sho.

After all the screaming audience members and their American Idol glitter glue signs were seated, the judges plopped it down and got the party started.

(Can you believe it took almost ten weeks for them to finally put the logo sticker on the front of the judges’ table?  Somebody’s fired.)

The group dance, complete with scaffolding and grinding poles, was a salute to all the Moms…in an odd sort of Pussycat Doll Hallmark Moment.  I’m sure Robin was psyched.

So psyched, that she actually took to the stage next with her PCD second string and basically did the same dance that the real girls do every time they perform anywhere.

God help the PCD if they ever show up at a venue that doesn’t own café chairs.

Then the hot mess trio dance happened, and it certainly lived up to it’s hot mess reputation.  Oy vey.  Moving on.

Not to be outdone by Robin, Richy and two Bobby Brown types hit the floor and got the crowd buggin’.  Stop.  Hammer Time.

Jordyn and her permanently crimped hair then rushed the stage and gave her opinion on the routine like she was a hairdresser on BET.  Mmmkay?  Mmmkay?

Three solos to go, and Abby could finally wrap this thing up.

Asia did her pink feathered runway routine in what appeared to be invisible stilettos and werked it.  Laquifa What?

Brianna’s Angels Watching Over Me dance was a tribute to her Grandparents and got everyone misty.

Madison was all legs and finally, on her last number ever, came out of her shell and showed some emotion.  Just under the wire, honey.  She’s got a really bright, happy smile when she uses it.  She just needs to use it more often.

After a lengthy deliberation at the table, a winner was chosen.

Kevin, who had busted out his best Seacrest yet with a fancy tux and exceptionally shiny shoes, gathered the girls and Moms back on stage for the final decision.

Drumroll, please.

The winner?


Confetti.  Tears.  Screams.  Smiles.  Mob scene on the stage.

She did it!  You go, Girl.

Now it’s back to Pittsburgh.  There’s some Dance Moms to slap around.

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