Posts Tagged ‘Abby Lee Dance Company’

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: It Was The Rachelle Rak Show. Twerk It. Werk It. Want It. It’s Broadway, Baby.

Wednesday, October 9th, 2013




I was up ’til 2am checking out flip flops on Zappos. Mama needs her Starbucks shot.






And this is how they found me at Candy Apples. I was curled up in a little ball all delirious and s***.








OMG. Just…OMG.







And then you push all the ugly people out of the way and Boom Boom Pow your way into the room like this, kids.






Seriously. Does this Flashdance bitch even own a pair of pants? There’s little boys in the room.





And then you open the door up like you just found leftover cheesecake that you had forgotten about.






Hold still, Baby, and let Mama hooch up this dress a little bit. You won’t sell any hoagies if they can’t see ’em in the case.






Why me? Why? All I want is my bows back. Is that too much to ask for? Just one big one.




Five.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.

They say that there’s a broken heart for every light on Broadway.

That’s what they say, you know.  I forget whether I heard it in a song or saw it on one of those 3 for $20 tee shirts they sell down on 42nd Street.  But I know they say it.

And that’s a lot of lights if you do the math.

But what they don’t tell you is that there is also a crazy Dance Mom for every one of those same lights that is either flickering, burned out or screwed in crooked.

Because it’s Broadway, baby.

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition hit the Great White Way this week.  And they hit it hard on the downbeat, thanks to new AUDC judge Rachelle Rak.

Anyone familiar with the New York City theater world or the high cut leotard industry already knew Rachelle before she joined Richy Jackson and Abby at the table this year.  And if you didn’t, you certainly do by now.

From what I gathered this week, Rachelle is the one who invented Broadway.  All of it.

Or at least the hard knocks part.

I’m fairly certain that she also had a jazz hand or two in making women everywhere feel even more emotionally traumatized by their own cellulite as she Flashdanced her way in and out of Times Square for the last 25 years wearing nothing more than a self-inflicted wedgie and a can of hair spray.

I’m too lazy to read her bio, but I’m guessing her Mom gave birth in the lobby of the Gershwin Theater, because Broadway is in this bitch’s blood.  Even though her actual career has taken her a little bit more down the Always A Bridesmaid, Never A Bride Road as far as leading lady roles go, Rachelle lives and breathes Broadway 24/7.


You know she totally high kicks it at the grocery store if she can’t reach the chips on the top shelf.  Every move Rachelle makes, right down to posing for her license at the DMV, is done so it can be seen from the cheap seats.

It’s called “SAS.”  Trademarked with a copyright.

The theme:  Broadway.

The skill:  Versatility.  All genres of dance.  All at once.  In yo’ face.

As the eight remaining dancers all scurried in from Bungalow #2 for the latest challenge, they were greeted by Abby Lee Miller and Rachelle.

Thankfully, Rachelle was the only one not wearing pants.  Abby remembered to put her’s on, so that was one less crisis we were going to have to deal with this week.

Rachelle, on the other hand, either forgets hers a lot or just doesn’t like to wear pants.

Ever.  Even with the kids in the room.

If you slow down your DVR, you can actually see one of the Atwood Twins sprouting facial hair the first time Rachelle bends over.  You’re a real boy now, Pinocchio.

For this week’s pop quiz, they were going Old Skool.  The kids were all given numbers and put through a classic Broadway cattle call.

You know the drill.  Learn a high speed, highly technical, highly age inappropriate dance, shake your non-existent hips and bootays, get cut early and then go find yourself a nice waitressing job so you don’t lose your apartment in the East Village.

It’s called Broadway, baby.

Rachelle and her Rak showed the kids how it’s supposed to be done.  Open the Door and then Wiggle Down.  Head Snap.  Feisty Apple Bite.  (That’s the only one I couldn’t figure out how to do correctly in the middle of my living room, but I’ll work on it over the weekend.  I promise.)

Even Tina got into the groove for a second while telling us how perfect her daughter Trinity was for this type of challenge.  Busting out her own raspy Broadway Razmatazz whisper and some curtain call arms, I honestly think that for a moment or two Tina actually believed she was hosting the Tonys.


Thank you all for coming tonight, you’ve been a great audience.  I love unicorns.

I am loving how Tina is slowly letting all her crazy leak out little by little and not giving us everything in the first week.  It makes me want to come back again and again just to see what she’ll do next.

McKaylee won the challenge, which gave Mom Shari yet another excuse to announce her daughter’s name through a megaphone a few times.  A few hundred times, I mean.

The other Moms were getting a little tired of hearing McKaylee’s name spewed out every 30 seconds.  More than a little tired, actually.  And they weren’t hiding the fact at all.

By the time (…fake Kristie Ray…) Kira sang her “McKaylee McKaylee McKaylee” song, I not only felt their pain, but realized how much I miss the Brady Buch.

Poor misunderstood Jan.  Been there.  Done that.

The winner of the challenge scored the first solo of the season, so that was good for a few more “McKaylees” before everyone headed off to rehearsals.

Oh.  And tiny little JoJo started getting the hornies for one of the TBoyz.  The Travis one, if I’m not mistaken.  I forget which one has the freckle.

She even made that stupid Taylor Swift heart sign that everyone makes with their fingers.  Over.  It.  Unless you have really fat sausage fingers, because then it looks more like the BatSignal instead of a heart.

Fo’ realz.  I swear.  It does.  Either look it up on Pinterest or find a fat friend.

Ally and Giaaaaaaanana were paired in a number titled “Eight,” which they hoped would keep Lifetime from getting sued by the producers of the movie Nine.  (See what they did there?)

Their rehearsal was pretty tame, but it did give Ally’s Mom Shari a few more opportunities to bash the other Moms.  Thank Gawd she’s a Dance Mom and not a Hockey Dad, that’s all I gotta say.

Marcia Marcia Marcia’s “I Danced A Dream” solo was based on Les Mis.  Studio Hopper Anthony Burrell and his backwards hat returned once again to choreograph the routine and to lay on the floor like he was hit by a Candy Apples sniper.


I really need to know what happened between Tony and Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein back on Dance Moms.  Something tells me it was way more than just some missing jerky from the cooler.

Down the hall, JoJo Swift, Trinity and Tyler were all attempting to channel their inner paper boys for an “Extra Extra” hot off the press hip hop dance, which was proving to be a little more difficult than anticipated for JoJo and TBoy.

So much so that choreographer Erik Saradpon ended up yanking Tyler from the center lead spot and replacing him with Trinity.

Spoiler Alert:  Can you say ‘Foreshadowing?’  Figure it out.

Meanwhile, TBoy #2 Travis was in the next room getting his Phantom on with Kalani, who was busy getting her Fish Face on.  Again.

I swear.  No matter how many times Abby lays into this poor kid about her Kardashian Instagram selfie pout, she keeps on busting it out whenever she hits the dance floor.

And then Travis said he was a ‘Ladies Man,’ even though he’s not old enough to know what that means.  I blame the internet and Rachelle’s Boom Booms for that one.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Backstage, the Filly from Philly Cindy was busy weed whacking the fringe on Giaaaaaaanna’s dress using what appeared to be the dullest pair of scissors she could find in the building.  Hoping that more leg would translate into more points, Mom would have been better off just chewing the yarn from her kid’s dress.

Ally’s Mom was not happy that the two girls were no longer matched sets for their duet and then Cindy screamed and shoved the scissors into someone’s back so she would know where to find them later.

She’s from Philly, you know.  Love.  Her.

My boy Kevin Manno was all slicked up again.  I’m starting to think that maybe he just wears a baseball hat to the studio and that’s why his hair is always so molded to his head lately.  I dunno.


Richy was finger waving his brains out in white gloves that were missing some of the digits.  I think they were supposed to look like that, but you never know when Cindy is back in the Green Room running with scissors.

Abby was pretty low key for starters, and Rachelle had forgotten her pants again.  But she did remember her sparkly top hat.  She probably left the iron on at home and forgot to lock the front door.  But she had her sparkly Chorus Line hat.

Because it’s Broadway, bitch.

Travis and Kalani’s number was going fairly well until they tripped on each other and almost took a Fish Face plant right there in front of the judge’s table.  Not cool.

JoJo, Tyler and Trinity’s New York Times dance slightly rocked the house.  At least Trinity’s part in the production, anyway.  But even Trinity was momentarily overshadowed a few times by Mom Tina’s bad a** gangstah faces from the sidelines.

Who knew that Mama liked her hip hop so much?  Girrrrrllll….you ratchet.

Giaaaaaaanna and Ally got it done.  Plain and simple.  Two finger waves!

Their routine even got Rachelle up on her pants-less feet like that crazy Bruno Tonioli from Dancing With The Stars as she raved about head rolls and feisty apples and Beyoncé hair and Boom Booms to the umpteenth power of Pow.

Sit down, Flashdance.  You’re drunk.

And then McKaylee McKaylee McKaylee hit the stage stage stage and showed everyone how you do a solo solo solo like a Boss.

Standing Ovation from the judges.  All three of ’em.

With a better buzz cut than Anne Hathaway, McKayKay owned that stage.  I think she grew a few inches backstage, too, because she nailed it with her long legs and fancy footwork.

If I had a clue what I was talking about I would mention her amaze ball chassé coupé blah blah blah, but I don’t know what those are and I don’t know if she actually did any.  I just Googled it to sound smart in front of my new dancer friends.

Rachelle told McKayKay that when she grows up and goes to Broadway, she will proudly pass the torch to her if she’s strong enough to pry it out of her cold dead hands.  Or something like that.


For a moment I swear I saw the ghost of Robin Antin pass into Rachelle’s body and take credit for every thing that is right in the world of The Dance.  Remember how she used to do that all the time last season?

Yes, Robin.  Pussycat Dolls.  We remember.

With all the dancing done, it was up to the judges to sit in their harsh lighting and fiddle with their iPads until they decided who was going home this week.

The Bottom Three ended up being JoJo and the TBoyz.

In the end, JoJo and Mom Jessalynn‘s ginormous Bump-It (…clearly every Dance Moms franchise requires at least one big poof per episode.  And was it just me or did Jess look like one of those Greek Goddess ladies they always put on restaurant placemats with that one shoulder Athena thing she had going on?…) were saved and sent away, leaving Sheryl and the TBoyz all alone at center stage.

Thankfully, one of the Ts was wearing a hat, so we could tell them apart.  I think it was Tyler.  Because he was the one that got cut.

Until the cosmic Power Ranger Twin Bond kicked in, that is, and Travis announced that he would also be going home.  Because that’s what Power Ranger Twins do.

And then Abby Lee Miller blew a major nutty.  Because that’s what Abby does.

And then Rachelle got all flustered like she was back at the DMV and started hand circling to the cheap seats and going all OhNoYouDin’tJust….

You know it’s a contest, right?  With one winner?  Don’t make me dance, boy.

Sheryl interrupted Abby.  Abby interrupted Sheryl.  The TBoyz cried a little too much for big boys.

And then the one who wasn’t wearing a hat announced that he had just punk’d everyone’s a** and he would totally be back next week.


And then there were  Five.  Six.  Seven.


Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: It Was Ninja Sticks To The Throat When Things Started to Get Unconventional.

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013




I appreciate the Callback Card, but can you check your boobs again for Bieber tickets?







That’s right, haters. We’re back! So suck on that one. Jeah!







Oh. Hell. No. That crazy bitch did NOT just tell me to slow down my groove. Imma srsly ’bout to hurt somebody.





Crazy? You want Crazy, girl? I’ll give you Crazy! And how ’bout some Sas? Crazy Sas! Werk It! Want It! Where am I?






Are we really gonna do this now, honey? Really? Cuz if we do, the only thing that’s gonna slow down is the oxygen getting to your lungs.






Oh. My. Gawd. They were THE best flip flops evah. On Sale. With Layaway. Shut Up. I died right there.






You might wanna cover your eyes, ladies, because Mama’s about to go all Pittsburgh Ninja on your kid’s a**.




Google it.

When you do, the first thing that’ll pop up on your screen is a photo of Abby Lee Miller.

Her style of teaching.  Her interactions with every Dance Mom who has ever co-signed that infamous ALDC contract with the Devil.  Her questionable choices when it comes to costume jewelry and even more questionably pretty male companions.

Not to mention whatever it is that has been going on with her hair lately.

Unconventional?  Yes.

Boring?  Never.

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition was back and ready to show us all what ‘unconventional’ really looked like this week, complete with super-sized high school play props and those potentially lethal martial arts sticks that everyone is always swinging around in the Wolverine comic books.

The field of tiny dancers had shrunk by one again.  Kalani had been sent packing last week, mainly because the producers thought her Mom was Kristie Ray and the rules clearly state that you can’t be on the show two years in a row.  It’s in the fine print.

I’m sure the elimination scene is still painfully fresh in your mind.

Kalani cried.  Kalani’s Mom Kira cried.  Abby cried.  Half the kids cried.  One of the lighting guys cried.  I’m pretty sure even Jane Seymour was in the audience crying, because this is Lifetime Television after all and she is contractually obligated to be on the network once a week bawling her eyes out over something life changing.


And then Rachelle gave Abby the best WTF side eye ever that somebody in the editing booth should have caught and destroyed before air time.

So as all the kiddos and Moms filed in for this week’s challenge, there was no Kalani.

And no bow in JoJo‘s hair.  Wait.  Whaa—?

I’m not even sure which was supposed to be more traumatizing to the viewing public.

Instead of her signature Honey Bow Bow headgear, Miss JJ (…if you’re nasty…) was rocking a tight hair bun that looked exactly like one of those decorative round dresser knobs you can special order from Crate & Barrel.

But before anyone could even process JoJo’s new look, in walked Kalani and Kristie/Kira.  Again.

Please.  No.  Not a plot twist before the first commercial.  I just can’t.

Did they miss their flight?  Are they squatting like homeless people in the bungalow, refusing to go home?  Are they just disoriented and can’t find the exit door?

And then, the moment that all of America had always feared would happen…or secretly hoped would happen in dirty dance boy chat rooms…happened.

And right in front of the kids.

Abby reached inside her bra like the big girls do at Burger King when their cell phone rings.  And I was all like, please Lawd…I know it’s cable, but don’t let her pull out what I think she is gonna pull out.


False alarm.  It was just her Callback Card!!  That hot glued artsy craftsy card that she had refused to offer up while Kalani was on the chopping block last week.

But now it was back.  And probably pretty warm considering that it had been motor boating The Girls since breakfast.  I was actually kind of worried that maybe a few crystals might have fallen off when the glue started to soften up, but everything looked pretty secure as Abby pulled it out like she was Penn & Teller’s new assistant.

Taa-daa!  Like magic, Kalani was back in the game!  And just in time.


The theme: Unconventional.

The skill:  Nada this time around.  Unless you count basic survival instincts.

The challenge:  Don’t get killed by a ninja.

Suddenly, martial arts stunt guy Nito Larioza either dropped from the ceiling or stepped out of a plume of shadow smoke and started swinging his stick at the kids.  I don’t know how he got there.

But it’s not like ninjas ring the doorbell.  They just show up and start kicking your a**.

Nito was immediately my idol because he had a name that you can’t say without faking an accent.  And he had worked on a Batman movie.

Umm.  Yeah.  Batman.

I don’t care if you run with scissors if you’ve touched the Batmobile, dude.  I bow to you and your little beanie.

The winner of the challenge was actually going to be a Mom this week, who would then get to choose the three dancers to stick in the bottom.  I smelled a bloodbath already.

After rolling and Karate Kid-ing their way past Nito and Abby, who looked like one of those Discovery channel documentaries about Eskimos who stab their own fish in the river, the winner turned out to be Trinity.  But not before some controversy.

Abby was just about to allow McKaylee to go through the obstacle course a second time due to having missed a crucial jump in the choreography, when everyone’s favorite loud Filly From Philly got her flip flops in a bunch and called out Abby for favoritism.

I mean, really.  How much do we love Cindy?

She’s from Philly, you know.  And Italian.

She’s also the kind of Mom who was put on Earth to embarrass her daughter and hold up the line at Walmart.  Like when she rolls down the window in front of the school and yells at Giaaaaanna to remember to ask the nurse for more ointment.


Or when all her tampons fall out of her fake Louis bag as she’s looking for one of the 47 store loyalty tags that are dingling off her keychain while squishing her flip phone between her shoulder and ear and talking about how her dental hygienist shouldn’t be wearing leggings this soon after having that homely baby.

OMG.  Mom.  Just stop.  I’m not kidding.

As Abby cracked her stick over Cindy’s head and the kids went off to rehearse, Tina headed out back to cry and figure out who she was going to throw under the bus.

There was a lot of crying this week.

Trinity, JoJo and scaredy cat Haley were cast in what was either some kind of a pirate themed Walk The Plank routine or the final scene of Titanic where they could only jump from iceberg to iceberg without touching the floor.

By the time Abby showed up and asked Haley to stay down low on her block of ice a total of three times, it was clear that choreographer Matt Cady wanted to shove every one of them into the ocean.

Poor Haley.  She either needs to figure out how to blink like the rest of us, or somebody needs to get her some protective eye wear.  Like I’ve said before, it’s probably a good thing that she cries so much, just so she can keep those orbs properly lubed up.

Girlfriend be buggin’.

Down the hall, Giaaaaanna and Kalani were working on their Twisted silk scarf dance as Abby plopped it down next to Cindy to figure out why she talks so damn much.

Good luck with that, by the way.

Cindy had a fairly substantial neon green bandaid on a boo boo from what I assumed was an earlier hoagie accident.  I bet if you slow down when you eat your food, you won’t bite your fingers so much.  Just felt that should be pointed out.

The TBoyz were going head to head in an attempt to reach the Top Of The Pyramid with choreographer Peter Chu.  One of them was Tyler and one of them was Travis.

That’s about all I could figure out.


Again:  Name tags, photo IDs or a visual cheat sheet, please.  Or maybe one could just grow a mustache.

Lastly, my girl Tarua Hall was trying to get Ally and McKaylee to untangle themselves from their hot mess of a Tangled Web spider dance.

Ally was having some timing issues, most likely brought on by all the dust that McKaylee was kicking up in her face as she smoked the routine.

Ally and her big hair have struggled a lot this season, but she has always tried to fight her own battles.  Thanks, Mom.  But no thanks.

Until now, when Mom went and opened her pie hole.

Oh, snap.  Tiffany basically interrupted the process to ask Tarua if she wouldn’t mind being a sweetheart and keeping all four of her eyes on her daughter and basically just ignore that other girl who seemed to be doing just fine on her own.

Oh…and slow down yo’ music, bitch.  This ain’t Dance Crew.

Ooooh, girrrrrl.  I know you did not just diss Tarua’s iPod mix and her fly glasses.

Luckily Abby showed up right when Tarua was gonna throw it all down.  (Lucky for Tiffany, I guess.  Unlucky for the rest of us who wanted to see a rumble.  Let’s Go!)

Tarua booted Tiffany out of the rehearsal and then flipped her weave a little like they do on The Real Housewives of Atlanta.  MmmHmm.  Take that.  Bloop!

Finally, it was Showtime!

My bro Kevin Manno, who was basically put on Earth to make tween girls squeal until they pee and to rock skinny jeans, was styling in a retro theater usher ensemble.  With his red jacket and black slim fits, he kind of looked like he could sneak backstage pretending to be one of Frankie Valli‘s Jersey Boy singers.

If you have to Google either Frankie Valli or Jersey Boys you probably need to just go right now.  I don’t think I even want you reading my blog anymore.

Someday the boys from One Direction will get old, too.  You just wait.

Keeping with the Batman theme, Richy Jackson was all Biff! Bam! Pow! with his pink cartoon bubble vest and three different pastel time zone watches.  Because you never know when someone is going to ask you what time it is in Zimbabwe.


There were no amazing Slap Yo’ Mama routines.  The kids did well, but didn’t make any of the judges fall off their chairs.  Even the really good ones were just really good.

JoJo’s pirate eye patch wasn’t even on her eyeball, so that was probably a four point deduction right there.  Haley looked scared and then cried some more.

Ally’s timing was still off and Tarua was still waiting for Mom Tiffany in the parking lot behind a dumpster.  This is over when Queen T sez it’s over.  Mmmkay?

Ally let the cat out of the bag and announced…on stage…that she had just started taking ballet lessons, which I guess is not cool in the world of The Dance.

Not having taken any lessons myself, I’m not really sure what she is missing, but Abby got pretty twisted about the whole thing so I’m thinking that maybe I should look into some Learning Annex classes next Spring.

And speaking of twisted…Giaaaaana and Kalani did amazeballs.  Clearly the judges’ favorite dance of the night.

The TBoyz were eggshelly, according to Richy, which was either a reference to their dancing skills or their lack of sunlight.  They are a little pasty now that I see them under the spotlights.

One of them did better than the other.  You choose.

As the week’s competition wound down, it was now up to Tina to start crying again and throw the bottom three to the wolves.

Ally, McKaylee and Haley.  Please report to the front of the stage.

And then everybody started crying.

In the end, it was poor little Haley who got a major case of the ugly cry/hiccup sobs and was sent home.  Which was sad to see.

I can’t believe my boy Kevin didn’t give her a paper bag to breath into up there before scooting her off stage.  She and Mom Melanie lost their marbles.

I’m almost positive that Melanie kind of winked at Kevin on her way out.  Did you see that? What was that all about?  You don’t think they….?  No.  No way.

Unconventional Week was over.  With no more safe haven between Abby’s bosoms.

And then there were eight.



Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: It Was Vegas! A Show Stopping, Head Bopping, Booty Popping Good Time.

Wednesday, September 25th, 2013




You better shut that Philly pie hole cuz Imma ’bout to get all Fake Kristie Ray on your fat a**, bitch.






Yo. Giaaanna! Over here! Have you seen my blue flip flops? They were in that Walmart bag with the Dr. Scholl’s pads.






Ok, then. And I see an easily accessible emergency exit over there. Good to know.







Kalani. OMG. Kalani. Kalani. OMG. Kalani. Kalani. OMG. Kalani. Kalani. OMG. Kalani. Whatever. So over it.






Oh, yeah! That hottie with the 1970’s porn moustache back there is so totally checking out Mama.






Yo…P. Diddy. Nice shades. You know we’re all inside the building now, right? How many did you have last night?







Me So Crazy.





Luck be a crazy lady tonight.  Again.

Grab your cup of quarters and a cocktail, because it’s time to hit the slots.

I’d even wager a bet that the first person to get three Dance Moms to flip out in a row is gonna win big.  Real big.

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition served up Sin City Realness this week as the remaining dancers busted out show stopping routines in the hopes of getting one sickled foot closer to that elusive Joffrey Ballet scholarship.

Las Vegas.  Abby’s go-to city for Theme Night.

After sending home booty pop-challenged Chloe and Mama Angela last week, the field of contestants was now down to nine.

Ten, if you count JoJo‘s iParty headgear, which I swear has taken on a life of its own as it increases in size, density and creativity with every new episode.  I’m already growing a little bit concerned that if Honey Bow Bow Child does make it all the way to the Finals that she may actually be crushed under the weight of her self inflicted sassiness.

Like when the Frankenstein Monster turned on his creator at the end of the movie.  But with less neck bolts and more lace and tulle.  And slightly askew, of course.

I’m going to miss innocent little Chloe and those big eyeballs.  But not as much as I’ll miss Mama raising her hands and going “MmmmMmmm” every time Richy Jackson gave feedback like he was some kind of warm cookie straight out of the oven.

MmmmMmmm. Those are some fine chocolate chips.  Thank you, Nestlē Toll House.

As the gang all filed in for this week’s challenge, they were greeted by Abby and three of those dangling silk harness contraptions that Cirque du Soleil performers always swing around on while some random clown who can’t speak English drives by on a unicycle to the beat of a Celine Dion song.

For me?  You’re all here for me?


(That joke is pointless if you’ve never seen Barbara Walters interview Celine.)

She’s Canadian, you know.  Celine, I mean.  And so is Cirque du Soleil, actually.  But not Barbara.  I don’t know what she is.  But I know she’s on The View for a little bit longer.

As soon as she glimpsed the silks, Mom Sheryl got pretty excited for the TBoyz to get their swing on.  They were so versatile and such quick learners that Mom could already picture them doing a two year run at Caesars.

All I could picture was at least one of them almost hanging himself by the waistband of his Toy Story pajamas while trying to jump from the top bunk too quickly at last month’s sleep over.  I didn’t have a good feeling about these silks.

I’m sure the TBoyz will probably be heartbreakers when they sprout some facial hair, but right now they’re still trying to grow into their feet and heads like labradoodle puppies, so you pretty much knew how this one was going to play out for the Atwoods.

The Theme:  Las Vegas.

The Skill:  Flexibility of both mind and body.

The Challenge:  Don’t crack your head open when you slip out of the silk hoop.

Right on cue, name droppin’/silk hoppin’ choreographer Shannon Beach came running into the studio (…still out of breath from a Justin Bieber concert or Katy Perry video shoot, no doubt…) to show the kiddos how to flip upside down without cutting off their oxygen supply.

This challenge was especially important, because the winner would get immunity from elimination.  Just like on Project Runway.  Which is a show that JoJo has clearly never watched, since she did not know what ‘immunity’ meant.

The kid can hot glue a hair bow that can be seen from Space, but she doesn’t know what ‘immunity’ means.  At least the girl has the same priorities that I do.

As the Dangling Games began, Trinity‘s bad back was making her a little cranky, but she was working through the pain like a Boss.


Until Tina decided to storm the stage and get all Miss Saigon HelicopterHoverMom on her daughter, that is.  Right in the middle of rehearsal.

OMG, Mom.  Totz embarassing.

Clearly, Tina had waited until Week #4 to start letting some of her crazy leak out.  Quiet as a samurai ninja for the first few episodes, you could tell she was going to be a handful this week.

Trinity just Wanted.  To.  Die.

Go.  Away.  Mom.

Not to be outdone in the Most Embarassing Mother Ever category, Gianna‘s Mom Cindy then decided to rise up on her own and try to get her daughter’s attention like she was flagging down the hotdog guy in the stands at a Philly softball game.

Psssst!  Psssst!  Giaaaaaaaaana!  Over here!  Over here!

OMG.  Sit.  Down.  Mom.  OMG.

Needless to say, the TBoyz were cut from the silk challenge at record speed, because they didn’t have Girly Hips.

Wait for it…

Never mind.  I can’t.

I’m dying to make a joke, but boy dancers already get enough grief in gym class, so I’ll give them a pass this time.  Follow your dreams, boys.  And start wearing some damn name tags, because I have no clue who got cut first.

When it was all over, even though Trinity’s Mom had almost ripped the silks down from the rafters with her bare hands and dragged her baby straight back to the bus station, she ended up winning the challenge and was free to completely f*** up this week’s dance and still have a bed in the bungalow for at least 7 more days.

Time to rehearse.

As the kids were assigned routines, the Moms were out back getting in each other’s faces.


Proving that once you crack the seal you can’t cap the crazy bottle again, Tina stormed into the MomClubhouse with two stray costumes and proceeded to dump one on the arts & crafts table where the other Moms were slaving away like it was a GAP factory.

I know, right?

She dumped a costume right on the table where there could have been a woogie of moist glue just sitting and waiting to ruin some kid’s outfit.

Something klassy people don’t do.  So call her Miss Rude and then sit back and watch her flap some crazy arms around the room.

Down the hall, the TBoyz and Kalani were working on their Rat Pack shoo bee doo wah dance.  Kind of a Justin Timberlake meets Frank Sinatra mash-up.

Travis was having issues with his hat, which is pretty much a given for any Dance Moms production (…shout out to Chloe Lukasiak!…) as Kalani realized that she didn’t know how to hip hop.  Tyler, on the other hand, kept assuring everyone that he had enough TSwag in just one of his labradoodle feet to make up for any of her weak spots.

You just keep telling yourself that, dude.

Also working on their routine in another one of those insane asylum padded wall cells was JoJo and Ally.

It was a magician’s assistant routine where JoJo would be transformed into a beautiful bird while Ally ran in circles trying to figure out how to dance like a man with biracial hair who was doing magic tricks in a crop top.

Yeah.  You heard me.

For comic relief, we then headed across the hall to watch Haley and Gianna dancing in heels.  Or if we’re being completely honest with each other, to watch Gianna dance in heels while Haley got a nosebleed.

Turns out that scaredy cat Haley had never worn heels and was having some…umm…issues, which were making everyone crazy.  Mom Melanie was clearly relieved at first when she realized this was a sign from above that her daughter would never have the inner ear balance to be a drag queen or stripper pole ho.  So that was a plus.

But for a $100,000 prize?  Not cool.

Amazingly enough, Gianna was having much better luck werkin’ it in those heels, which was ironic considering that she is being raised by a Mom who probably wore flip flops to her Senior Prom.


Oh…and don’t worry. Abby busted Mom on those stubby piggly wigglies again.

Back out on the stage where the whole challenge started, Trinity and McKaylee were fine tuning their silk dancing techniques.  Let’s just say that when you really watched them side by side and realized that McKayKay was 96% leg, it was a good thing Trinity was safe this week.  She’s a patooty, but c’mon.

At some point in the evening, the Moms had gone out for cocktails and body shots on the Hollywood strip where wannabe Kristie Ray Kira had (…allegedly…) stated that she wasn’t there at AUDC for the money or the scholarship or the friendship or the comped bungalow.

According to Cindy, that is.  Who’s from Philly.

True or not, Kira and Cindy decided to throw down in the back room the next day and somehow the argument shifted from Kira not needing cash to Kira’s Forever 21 mullet dress and fake boobs.

Cuz that’s how they fight in Philly, I guess.

By the time Cindy latched onto her own substantial boobage like you’d do if your plane was going down over the Atlantic and you were scrambling for the biggest, most buoyant seat cushion you could grab before impact, I forgot what they were even supposed to be fighting about in the first place.

What’s that old joke about ‘more than a handful…?’  Yowza.

On the other hand (…ful…) I did remember that I’ve always believed that after a certain age you should not even be allowed inside a Forever 21 unless you’re rescuing someone from a burning building.  And even then, leave your credit cards outside.

Send your daughter inside with some cash and then wait in the Food Court like a good Mom before you make some bad fashion choices that might end up on national television.  It’s 21 for a reason.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Richy was stylin’ in a gigantic ‘Richy Squirrel’ license plate necklace that kind of looked like what I imagine Flava Flav would wear in a mug shot.  Rachelle and her Rak were busy being all sassy and stuff while Abby was being stalked from behind by some creeper in the audience who still thought men should rock porno moustaches.


The Magic Act routine had some flaws.  JoJo wasn’t sassy enough, as if that was possible, and Ally’s Mom didn’t know to stuff her daughter’s top hat with foam to keep it out of her eyes.

Twenty three pounds of hair and that hat is still not high enough?  Gah.

The High Heel Show Stoppers dance wasn’t high enough, so Rachelle felt it was necessary to come out from behind the judge’s table and show Haley and Gianna how to werk it in heels.

And it had to be seen to be believed.

Stomping it like out Naomi Campbell channeling RuPaul, Rachelle heel-toed her way upstage while screaming “Want Something!” as two little girls who just wanted boobs and sensible shoes tried to keep up with Miss Thang and her 8 feet of legs.

Want it.  Own it.  Boom I got your boyfriend!

The Rat Pack number was basically three dancers doing their own thing and calling it a trio.  Richy was not happy with the TBoyz and pointed out that Kalani should have probably just skipped out on the whole dance and gone back to Forever 21 to return her neon Mom’s dress.  Ouch.

The final dance of the evening was the silk swing, where McKaylee’s legs completely overpowered poor Trinity’s sickled feet.  It’s called ‘immunity’ for a reason.


The bottom two dancers ended up being Kalani and Ally.

And then Abby lost out to the majority vote and Kalani was sent home.

Kalani cried.  Abby cried.  Cindy did a happy flip flop dance.

Because sometimes you don’t win in Vegas, baby.

And then there were eight.

(Or ten if you count those two right there…)

I got your Philly hoagies right here, bitch.



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