Toddlers & Tiaras: You Are Driving Me Nuts. The Sequel. One More Mega Makenzie Meltdown Masterpiece.

December 3rd, 2011

They’re tiny.

They’re shiny.

The crowds surrounding them are insanely unruly.  Almost uncontrollable.

You say you aren’t going to get caught up in it again.

But you do.

And sometimes your eyes actually burn as a result.

Yup.  It’s happening again.

This Holiday season, it seems that anticipation for the upcoming new season of Toddlers & Tiaras is now ranking right up there with Black Friday price cuts on Walmart waffle irons.

Both events have polarized the country, caused numerous people to temporarily lose their vision, and at times reached the point where I can’t tell the difference between the two.

If it weren’t for tanning spray replacing pepper spray, I might never be able to figure out which one I am watching on Youtube.

I know it’s hard to wait, America.

So here’s one last glimpse of my new idol Makenzie Myers, the mini Queen of Meltdowns to keep you busy, and off the streets, until T&T returns this month.

She is a hoot.  She makes me smile.  End of story.

I personally can’t get enough of Makenzie…or a good waffle.

Feel free to sing along.

The Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills: Pump It Up! Stomp Your Maloof Hoof On Adrienne’s Fashion Show Runway.

November 29th, 2011



Feels like heartache.





Sounds like trouble.






Looks like crazy.





Tastes like chicken.





With all due respect to Giggy The WonderPom…

Oy vey, my aching dawgs I tell you.

It was high drama and even higher heels this week as The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills proved once again that it’s a lot of work being rich and fabulous, and sometimes fashion hurts.

Between tight gowns and über stilettos, it can’t be an easy life they lead.  How do they find the time?

Since she doesn’t already have enough on her plate between babysitting her prankster husband Paul and blocking off enough time to glue in a new batch of glitter tinsel hair extensions, this week’s big event was  Adrienne’s charity fashion show to launch her new shoe line.  But before we got to see Bryant Park recreated in her backyard there were some loose ends to tie up.

First off was a frazzled Lisa trying to figure out how to proof the invitation boxes for Pandora’s wedding, do a taste testing of some food for the guests and still find time to groom Giggy like a mother monkey picking at her baby’s back fur.

Pandora was impatiently waiting for Mum to show up while trying to keep Wedding Planner Kevin Lee from putting the mansion back in escrow.  Miss Lee likes to spend clients’ money almost as much as he likes punctuating the end of every sentence with “Dahling…” 

Always styling in his tinted aviator sunglasses and quirky haircut, Miss Lee was simply in love with the invites and pretty much fogged up his shades when he figured out his commission on this whole mess.

Having already committed $15,000 on oversized invitations that will not only require additional postage but a fleet of FedEx trucks to deliver, Lisa is suddenly oddly concerned about the wedding going too over the top when they all move into the kitchen for some snacks.  The production value of the frozen vodka smoke machine and flaming whatchamacallits was worthy of a Siegfried & Roy Vegas show, but maybe not so much for a prissy British wedding.

The last thing the guests need to see is Lisa Vanderpump coming out of a fog bank like Christine from Phantom of the Opera.

Throughout the entire scene, husband/dog walker Ken sat in dead silence as we watched him lose both the color in his face and the money in his wallet at equal speeds.

Over at Castle Maloof, prep work was being done for the launch of her shoe line.

Adrienne had gathered together a posse of marketing people, shoe guys and Yes Men to show them her ideas.

Since she doesn’t cook (…remember, the woman tried to wash a chicken with Bath & Body hand soap…) there was certainly no need to set the table for guests.  Instead she loaded it with all her favorite shoes and explained how she wanted her shoe line to be practical for everyone.  Beautiful.  But practical.

After stating that fact with a straight face, she proceeded to fondle all her favorite shoes and ogle at the crystal insets and razor sharp ninja heels.  She also wanted the Franklin Mint to do a pressing of a gold Maloof coin that will be attached to the sole of the shoe.  And then a diamond will be hot glued in the middle of that piece of change.


Tomorrow when you go to the Galleria to pick up socks and underwear, be sure to ask the contingent of MallWalkers rounding the corner by Cinnabon how practical 6 inch platform Louboutins are in the real world.  Seriously, Adrienne?

In any other show, on any other channel, that would probably be the most surreal moment of the week and you could just go to bed without even finishing the episode.  But not in Beverly Hills, because right on the high heels of all that nonsense we had to go directly into therapy with Taylor and Russell.

Un.  Comfort.  Able.

Maybe if we had climbed into our Time Machines and gone back to before the whole Russell thing imploded…well, maybe.  But since we all know how this thing is going to end, seeing the two of them in therapy was just an exercise in futility and awkwardness.

And it doesn’t say much for the skills or success rate of Dr. Charles, the no-sock-wearing Doctor of Osteopathy either.  Tell me he didn’t try every trick in the book to get his scenes cut out of this show before they aired.  This week can’t be good for business.

Dr. Charles seems convinced that the flaws in their marriage are due to Russell not making enough time for Taylor in his busy work schedule.

I’m guessing it might also have a little something to do with getting clocked in the jaw, Doc.  Ask Camille.  And cancel my next appointment while you’re at it, please.

To lighten the mood after Russell looks at his watch for the umpteenth time and has to go back to work, we head out with Kyle and Brandi for our manicures.

They were both blown off by Taylor who set the whole thing up, but since they were already there…why not?  Even though Kyle has no patience for Brandi, and Brandi has no filter when she speaks, they both needed a mani and get a little time to bond.  It also gives Brandi time for her weekly LeAnn Rimes bashing as she relives the Grand Ole Opry scandal of her Cheatin’ Man.

Brandi would also like to get all the Wives together to try and make nice after all the Game Night drama, Spa Day drama and Son Peeing On The Grass drama, but since she is still rocking that broken foot boot her options are limited.  She did come up with one stellar idea that involved bringing her porn star friend over to teach the Wives how to…well…do some porn star stuff like a real porn star.

Screeech.  Say wha–?!

Right about then Kyle choked on her gum and two manicurists drank nail polish remover straight out of the plastic bottle.

Brandi needs to work on that whole think before you speak thing, since she has clearly already mastered the porn star thing.

And then it was time to par-tay.

After micro-managing every aspect of the fashion show, driving everyone around her crazy and basically air lifting everything except Heidi Klum from NYC Fashion Week into her backyard, Adrienne was just about ready to launch her shoe line.  The whole gang was invited, and she was a nervous wreck.

But before she could enjoy the evening, she needed to clear the air with Lisa, who made the trip all the way across the street for the launch accompanied by ZombieKen and Bazillionaire Mohamed.  Even Giggy changed into his formal onesie for the evening.

Adrienne was quick to snag Lisa and pull her aside.  Adrienne was nursing some hurt feelings due to the fact that Lisa had not asked to dump the Pandora Party Bus at Adrienne’s Las Vegas club for the bachelorette party.  Instead, Lisa opted for a family friend who set them up at his venue.  The whole thing got pretty snarky pretty quickly as Lisa claimed she didn’t want to impose while Adrienne pointed out she would have rolled out the red carpet.  There was also some conflicting smack talk about why Lisa’s wine was not being served at Adrienne’s casino.  He said She said.  And so on.

The two of them have been on a slow boil lately, and neither can seem to please the other.  I’m hoping this is building to a nice Dynasty Krystal & Alexis kind of thing, because it has been way too long since we’ve seen a decent Koi Pond throw down.

Bring it, bitches.  Just bring it.

Camille arrives and is about as excited to see Taylor as Taylor is to see Camille.  Hoping that they can avoid each other, neither is paying much attention as they collide at the bathroom door and stand frozen in place trying to figure out what to do next.  Kind of like when you bump into your ex-BFF by the lockers on your way to homeroom.  After a quick “umm…errr…ahh…talk later” they go their separate ways, sparing us some drama until next week’s Study Hall.

Side note…my new drinking game for this week is to take a shot every time Kyle tugs at her dress.  Guess all those Swarovski crystals are weighing you down, honey.  Next time you might want to walk around the house for a few minutes to test drive the gown before you get in the limo.

Finally the show starts and everyone sits back to check out these shoes.

Paul sits in the front row with his iPhone like a proud dad at the Holiday Dance Recital.  Now I’m glad he is filming his wife’s special moment and all, but not for nothing…doesn’t he see the 12 Bravo cameras and the satellite production van over by the curb?  I think the event is covered, dude.  Put your phone away, you’re wearing down the battery.

There was good food and good music and theater lighting and an open bar and high fashion for miles.

The only thing missing were shoes.

Seriously.  Shoes.

Most of the gowns, including Adrienne’s were dragging on the ground, so you never got to check out the dawgs.

Adrienne claimed she didn’t want to take the attention away from the charity, which was the main focus.

I’m thinking you should have cut back on the (no lie…!) 19 valets and hired a decent event planner who might have noticed during dress rehearsal that there were no shoes on the runway.

Come on…get Giggy wid it.  Pump it up, dahling.

The Real Housewives Of Atlanta: Girl, It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Don’t Bling. Make Sure Them Jewels Be Dangled.

November 28th, 2011




Back it off.





Take it off.





Cut it off.






Knock it off.





“I took my eyes out of my head, put ’em in my purse and drove my car blind.”

Thank you, NeNe.  That pretty much sums it up.

Luckily I was comfortably planted on the couch for this week’s episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta and didn’t need to pop out my orbs before I went to bed.

But it was a close call.

Between being forced to witness some of the tightest clothing that has ever been seen on cable television (Seriously…where do these women shop?  Hoochie Baby GAP…?) and then being forced against my will to view the seriously pixelated windmill gyrations of the biggest…umm…well…the largest….

…umm…let’s just say that tonight’s special guest star could have poked out his own eyeballs, as well as NeNe’s, and still have been able to tap a waiter on the shoulder for a refresh of Kandi’s diluted cocktail.

I’m going to leave it at that for a bit because I’m getting ahead of myself.

After the Jerseyesque Baby Shower throw down last week between Peter and Apollo, both the Wives and the ManWives needed to let things chill out for a few days.

Hoping to kiss up and get back on her good side and no doubt catch a glance of that fine piece of boyfriend as a bonus, Phaedra packs a baby gift basket to the brim and hauls it over to Kim’snew home.

Since our girl Phaedra doesn’t even breath oxygen without an ulterior motive, she immediately used the visit to bash on Cynthia for showing up late to the shower and not bringing a gift.  It should also be noted that in the same breath she also points out that she has absolutely no idea what one of the gifts in the basket actually is, but everyone gave her the same thing when she was pregnant so she figured that it must be good.

The whole conversation just led me to believe that the basket was full of items with missing receipts that couldn’t be returned…can you say ReGift?

Speaking of Cynthia, she is still trying to get hubby Peter to play nice with her family.

During their Yabba Dabba Doo Bedrock wedding last season, it became clear that Cynthia’s family is not a big fan of Peter as they nearly put a stop to the whole event by not handing over the paperwork before the service.  Peter got wind of this after the fact, and is holding onto one major grudge.

Since driving his last restaurant into the ground and taking a good chunk of Cynthia’s money with it wasn’t stressful enough, Peter has now moved on to his next business venture.  His new club Bar One is set to open soon providing he can get the investors to cough up the rest of the cash and can actually get the walls put up.  Figuring he isn’t already on the edge, Cynthia decides to drop by the site with her sister Malorie to see if they can manage a big group hug.

Not so much.

Peter does his usual “That’s what I’m sayin’…whassup…I’m good…” and then walks away after making it pretty clear that he would smack that girl upside the head if the cameras weren’t rolling.  No love.

But there’s plenty of love for Kandi and her upcoming birthday party.

Gone are the days when you just take your girlfriends to Uno’s for your birthday.  And gone are the days when someone else plans your party, I guess.

Kandi is turning a whopping 35 and needs to plan her own party at a venue that can handle music loud enough to drown out the ticking of her biological clock.  After pouring herself into some pants that must have been stitched with the same steel retaining fibers they use in bridges, Kandi and her horn dog buddies Phaedra and Sheree swing by the rooftop locale to check out the party plans.

It basically gave the three of them time to bond, get all “MmmHmm, honey,” lie about their ages and fog up the windows with all their fierce Cougarness.  You go, girls.  MmmHmm.

Moving on…NeNe is rich.  Did she mention that yet?

I’m fairly certain that NeNe’s renegotiated Bravo TV contract now requires weekly verification of her monetary awesomeness, because when Girlfriend ain’t talkin’ about money, she is spending money.

This week she is shoe shopping with Kandi and Derek J, Kim’s fierce stiletto wearing HairBoy.

Derek J is not to be confused with Lawrence, Sheree’s fierce stiletto wearing HairBoy.

Or Derek Jeter the baseball player.

The whole thing was just a chance to drop some designer names, do some Kim bashing and get all fierce.

There was a lot of fierce this week.  A lot.


While her fierce stiletto wearing HairBoy was talking smack behind her back, Kim was learning how to diaper a baby boy.  Or at least watch Kroy learn how to do it.  For all her many years of being around Boy parts, Kim didn’t seem very comfortable with the process all of the sudden.

Maybe it’s because this time around the Boy part wasn’t going to come with a black Amex card attached, or maybe it was because as soon as this kid is born she will have a drink and a cigarette in her hands and won’t be able to fumble with the velcro tabs…but either way she was out of her element.

And you know you have too much money when you can pay to have Queen Latifah come to your house with a plastic baby doll to demonstrate proper diapering techniques.

I swear that was her.  Check it on reruns.  I thought maybe she would break into a little jazz number after the practice session, but no go.

Kim and her man also got a quick lesson on the Art of circumcision, which made Kroy’s signature faux hawk stand up without the assist of any John Frieda pomade.  But he got to high-five Queen Latifah after successfully completing a fake butt wipe.

So to quote Peter…it was all good.

Not so good at the construction site for Chateau Sheree, though.

The work on Sheree’s Uber Mansion seems to have ground to a halt, and she brought Phaedra along to put the Lawyer Scare on the contractor.  It didn’t seem to speed up the process any, but it gave Phaedra a chance to show off her Donkey Badonkadonk Bootay to a captive audience.

I swear you can see that thing from Space.  Good thing Construction Dude Andrew was sporting his protective eyewear when she backed that thing up.

Ms. Parks does love to show off that junk in the trunk.  You have to be this tall to ride the ride.


Things weren’t quite as well put together over at The Bailey Agency, though.

For some reason that I couldn’t quite get a handle on, Cynthia felt that it required three people to build an IKEA office chair and put out the call to Malorie and her exceptionally tall husband Chris to come to her rescue.  Cynthia had just finished up a photo shoot, and was apparently so obsessed with putting together this chair that she didn’t even pause to take off her crazy fake eye lashes and was fumbling with the ratchet wrench looking like a creepy combination of Betty Boop and Carol Burnett when she dressed up like that looney 1920’s silent movie star.

Cynthia is hoping to open up her School for Wayward Model Wannabes asap, so maybe that is why she needed three people.  I don’t know.  But they showed up.

Malorie was still grinding her teeth over the last conversation with Peter and picked up right where they left off last time.  She and Cynthia went a few more rounds but didn’t really solve anything.  Like a State Union job filling potholes, the three of them stood around and bickered until time was up and the job never even got done.

Peter won’t be getting a holiday card from that family anytime soon.

Putting aside all the drama, it was finally time to squeeze into our party outfits and celebrate a birthday!

After getting a heavy coating of Toddlers & Tiaras face primer and lip shine, Kandi poured herself into yet another inconceivably skin tight ensemble and baby stepped her way down to the party.

All the girls were there, except for Kim who was either dilating or washing her wigs.  I forget what they said.

NeNe arrived as though she was having her own private movie premiere in her head.

Phaedra arrived with a taser in her purse just in case the crowd got rowdy.

Sheree arrived still hating NeNe.  And apparently running a little late since she didn’t have time to iron her top.  For realz.  Check it out when you go back to verify Queen Latifah.  She must have swung by the Mall on her way…the top looked like she unfolded it in the car on the way over.  Meow.

It was nothing but tight clothes, dramatic entrances and boys in stilettos.  Remind me to never invest in a mens Florsheim store in Atlanta.

Or any store selling anything over a size 2.  Does anyone in Atlanta even know their actual God given dress size?

Luckily, Momma Joyce was there to help daughter Kandi celebrate.  I love me some Momma Joyce.  And I’m sure that Momma Joyce would love me.

But the two things that Momma Joyce don’t love are multiple Baby Daddies and Strippers, and unfortunately one of the two always manages to find Kandi whenever she leaves the house, and tonight was no exception.

Phaedra decided against the gift card option, and instead unleashed a stripper on Kandi as a present.

And not just any stripper.  Oh, hell no.

For your 3D viewing pleasure, I give you Redickulous.

Yeah.  That Redickulous.

The one that Phaedra has been ovulating over for two seasons.

Let’s just say that you don’t ever want to run with scissors.  Or with Redickulous.  It’s all good fun until someone loses an eye.

And even better?  He’s her client.  Do the math…that means that Phaedra represents not just felons (ie…her husband…) but strippers as well.

Oh.  And Bobby Brown.

Let’s just say that Momma Joyce was not a big fan.  After getting herself all decked out for the evening, and getting her hair did like a character from Fat Albert & The Cosby Kids, the LAST thing Momma Joyce needed to see was a stripper.

She went off like Foghorn Leghorn in a dress.

“I say, I say, I say…that is just bulls***!  That is just nasty!  I do declare!”

I love me some Momma Joyce.  She needs her own show.  Immediately.

NeNe and Cynthia stormed out like they suddenly grew some Class.  Sheree kept on hating.  The boys kept on walking in stilettos.

And hopefully Kandi rinsed out her glass after that Redickulous swizzle stick incident.

I do declare.

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