Posts Tagged ‘Dance Xpressions Competition’

Dance Moms: Just A Small Town Girl On A Saturday Night Shrink Wrapping Her Baby Fat. She’s A Maniac Alright.

Wednesday, March 27th, 2013



When you look this good in a leotard, then maybe you can tell me how to Boom Boom Pow. Got it?





Trust me, honey. One more twirl and you’ll be tighter than a stick of Canton’s best beef jerky.





All I’m saying is that if nobody claims that Chippendales blow up doll back there, he’s going home with Mama tonight.





Now that’s what I’m talking about, Girl. Rock On, Jill!






OhMyGod. I forgot to take the saran wrap off my a** before I left the house. Make this day be over.





Seriously, Mom. Your new boyfriend over there is totally creeping me out.






So you swear we’re not filming this now, right? Lawd.




Suck it in, people.

Put on your welder’s helmet and wrap your jiggly jelly junk in saran wrap, because Dance Moms is going on the fat-free Flashdance diet.

Summer’s coming, so this week  everyone shrink wrapped their cellulite and their krazy into one tightly packed sausage link of lunacy to try and get ready for the beach…and for Broadway…and it went just about as well as you would expect it would go.

Gotta love those Moms.

After wiping the PowerHouse floor with all the other dance studios at last week’s competition, Abby Lee Miller was already looking forward to the next stop in her ALDC Back On Top World Domination Tour.  Coming off a few really…reeeeeallly…bad showings over the past month or so, it was nice to be playing with the Big Dawgs again.

But first, as always, we had to check out the latest How Can We Stick It To Brooke Or Paige Or Both This Week? Pyramid of Shame.

The bottom row was reserved for Brooke, Mackenzie, Nia and Kendall.

As you’ll remember from the end of last week’s Rosa Parks tribute group dance, Brooke had slipped into some alternate reality where she believed that she was actually getting on a state funded public transportation vehicle and had completely stopped dancing and just stood there holding a hand strap waiting for the 39 bus to get to her stop.

Basically, she forgot the routine.  Which was bad enough.

But then she went and talked to Rosa/Nia, who was hogging the good seat.  And a white girl making small talk at the front of the bus during a Rosa Parks tribute dance just didn’t work very well within the basic plot structure of the story line, so Abby had no choice but to send Brooke to the back of the Pyramid.  All the way back, please.

As a double whammy, Abby then announced that she felt Brooke needed a break from all this dance stuff.  Dismissed, soldier.

Brooke got booted off the team for the week, which meant she probably had another dance or football game or Instagram upload or sleepover at some BFFs house already in her iPhone calendar.  So she was sent out the side door, with instructions to attend her normal dance classes  but not come anywhere near the the Dream Team.

Mackadoodle was on the bottom because she didn’t sit still in her wheelchair last week and let her foot heal.  Nia did great as Rosa Parks, and Abby was extremely proud of her, but already knowing that Maddie was going to be on the top again this week basically just pushed all the other salmon downstream a little.  Which probably explained why Kendall was also down there, considering that she had kept up with all her rubber face exercises just like she was told to do.

Middle Earth was held down by Chloe and Paige, thanks to their duet.  And then blah blah blah…Maddie on top.

This week the gang was headed to another Dance Xpressions Competition in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which meant another week of those ghetto fab flashing onstage light towers.  Great.

You know, I’m starting to think that maybe the people at Dance Xpressions don’t actually read my website and take my suggestions to heart.  Whatever.  Don’t come crying to me when some little toddler goes into a full seizure because your Spencer Gifts strobe lights aren’t timed to the music.

Because I’ll totally say I Told You So.

Kendall got another solo this week.  Now that she had mastered The Face, it was time to work on The Stamina.  Starting immediately I guess, as Abby made the poor little thing jog in place while she assigned the rest of the dances.  Chloe also scored another solo, and then to shake it up a little, Abby paired Maddie and Mackawhacka on a duet.

The group number was called Gold Digger, so you just knew it would call for some serious Bob Fosse jazz hands.

And who better to Boom Boom Pow some Broadway moves than a brassy Broadway Babe?  Smells like a guest choreographer to me.

Ladies & Gentlemen, check your programs.  Entering stage right…Rachelle Rak, from the national touring company of Flashdance.

What a Feeling.

Bitch was all hair and high cut leotard.  And the Moms were totally jealz.  I’m pretty sure that at least two of them actually gained five pounds in the Mom Perch just from watching Rachelle strip off her coat and drop it like it was hot on the studio floor.

Her nickname ain’t “Sass” for nuthin.

Granted, she was no Shangela (…“Laquifa Whaaaaat?”…) but she could still Werk.

After less than 30 seconds of watching all that toned Sass A** roll around, Kelly realized that the Moms needed to immediately spit out that Burger King and report to her house asap for an emergency body wrap party.

Body Wrap?  That’s the spa treatment all the fancy people do where they stick those toxin-sucking Icy Hot pads on your meaty portions, squish it together like Thanksgiving leftovers and then let you sit around drinking Skinny Girl cocktails while all your bad life choices melt away.

Luckily, Kelly knew someone with an industrial sized roll of wrap, and all the Moms reported for duty.

Melissa and Jill got the full Mummy Tummy wrap.  Everyone had just found out that Melissa had gotten secretly married last Monday (…“Melissa Whaaaaat?”…) and they were all still a little miffed, so I think that secretly they were all hoping the process would cut off her fat and her oxygen.

And even though you might think that they had wasted an entire afternoon shopping for wedding dresses with Melissa last week, they got to drink wine and champagne, and we all know that any day a Dance Mom can get some liquor in her system is a good day.

Christi shriny-dinked her arm flaps while Kelly went behind the kitchen counter to drop trou and work on her butt fat out of our direct line of vision.

Memo to Self:  Never eat leftovers at Kelly’s house.

At least Doctor Holly was able to salvage a small slice of her dignity by opting for a simple facial detox, which only required her to don a strange Hannibal Lector-ish freshly skinned White Face.

Maybe the whole Rosa Parks thing is still a little too fresh in my mind.  I just can’t.

With all the fat now sucked out, it was time to really focus on the upcoming competition.

Rachelle had already left to do some Flashdancing somewhere, so Abby wasted no time in changing up her choreography.  Cleaning it up, she said.  Because Abby’s a control freak, and that’s what control freaks do.  They clean stuff up.

Her first note (…that’s how they talk on Broadway…) was to cut MackAttack completely out the group routine, because after three seasons Abby suddenly realized that the kid was a foot shorter than the other girls and it was messing with the camera guy’s head.

And then she made Chloe cry.  Because that’s also what control freaks do.  They clean stuff up and make kids cry.

Finally, it was Showtime!

I swear.  Every week the ALDC arrival at the venue gets more and more like that long walk to the WWE Ring.  Screaming audience members.  Flashbulbs.  Poster board signs.  People passing out from the heat.

Mark my words…by Season 4 there will be flame throwers and a fog machine.  And the ALDC logo will probably come down from the rafters, totally against school district fire codes, all made out of Fourth of July sparklers.

You heard it here first.

Backstage in the Makeup Room and Holding Pen, it was the usual chaos.

Kendall’s solo was a Roaring ’20s kind of thing to test her stamina.  The goal was to dance as hard and as fast as she could until she either passed out or the cops came to bust the nightclub for serving alcohol during Prohibition.  The poor hyperventilating little thing was giving Face like it was her day job in one of her run throughs, but when Abby caught her just lounging around she insisted that she go and sit on the wall like they do at CrossFit gyms.

Jill had some issues with that and got right up in Abby’s grill.  Losing all those belly toxins seemed to have put her a little on edge this week.  But still, nobody would address the Elephant in the Room.

That inflatable Chippendales doll that was just hanging around in the background.

I know, right?

Didn’t anyone notice him just chillin’ like a villain back there?  Thank gawd it wasn’t the really nasty kind with the round mouth that you can get freaky with.  But still.

Seriously.  Sometimes I just love this show so much I get a nose bleed.

Mackayacka and Maddie’s duet went really well, despite nobody having a growth spurt on the bus ride to Grand Rapids.  They took First Place.  So there.

Chloe’s solo was all Joan Jett rocker chick with rocker chick hair and rocker chick tongue and those two fingered rocker chick gangster hand symbols.

Mom taught her those right before she went on stage, because Mom liked the tongue.

So did Chloe apparently, who got so excited that she flipped off the audience at the end of her dance like she was exiting a concert to go smoke weed in her tour bus.

Yeah.  Abby didn’t like that one bit.  Even though she scored First Place.  Not one bit.

Backstage, Rachelle showed up again, because it seems that the ALDC bus also doubles as a Flashdance transport and they had a matinee in town.  What are the chances?

Abby had to break it to Sass that most of her choreography had been changed due to the height restrictions on Gold Diggers.  Say whaa–?!

And then the whole thing turned into Diva vs. Double D Diva.

It didn’t go well at all.

Rachelle put MackJack back into the routine while Abby rolled her eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck up there somewhere.  The one thing control freaks don’t do is actually give up control.  Ever.

And then as soon as things were significantly stirred up, Rachelle scooted out for another matinee and Abby just sat there all Whatever Whatever.  Jill tried to get her to make some decisions since it was her team and her reputation that was about to go on stage.  But nothing.

And still…nobody noticed that the front release valve on that Chippendales dude had developed a slow leak.

Then everybody went on stage to dig for some gold.  And found it.  First Place!

Naturally, Abby spun the whole thing into the years and years of training that the girls had received at the ALDC.  That’s why they won.  It had nothing to do with Rachelle’s big hair or big attitude or big dancing or little leotard.


There was just enough time left for Abby to nitpick on Kendall for rehearsing in the wings where she could be seen by the audience.  And the whole Chloe gang sign thing, of course.

And then it was over.

Until next week.

When this totally happens…

Boom.  Boom.  Pow.

Dance Moms: One Mo’ Time. Say Hello To Kaya And Bye Bye To Broadway Baby. It’s All Good In Da ‘Hood, Bitch.

Thursday, February 28th, 2013



I know, right? With my Kim Kardashian pouty face, crazy a** hats are totally the New Black.






Oh. Hell. No. Bitch did not just go there.






Lawd Jesus. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Not at this hour.





Bitch, you’re lucky I don’t have my thug hat on, or I’d be all up in your grill like it was going down at a PTA meeting.





Bitch, pleez. You ain’t returning a blouse to Talbots. You’re in da ‘Hood.






No. Your kid can’t dance, Bitch. And close your legs to married men.





What? Seriously. Like I totally didn’t even understand that last joke. Sometimes being little sucks.




The following television program is rated TV-DM.  As in Dance Moms.

It may contain one or more of the following:

Intensely suggestive dialogue.  Coarse language straight up from da ‘hood, Bitch.  Some sexual situations and/or poorly styled booty shorts that cut you off at the thigh and make you appear shorter than you really are.

And the kind of moderate pop-off in a bitch’s face kind of violence that used to be reserved only for greasy hoes trying to marry Flava Flav.

Parental Guidance is suggested.

Strongly suggested, actually.  And a cocktail probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

That can only mean one thing.

Black Patsy is back, Bitches.  And she’s not taking any prisoners.  Or crap from any of the Moms.  Especially that studio hopper Jill.

Oh, yeah.  It was on.  On like dancing gangstah Donkey Kong.

And amidst all the resulting collateral damage, two people probably took it harder than anyone this week when the ALDC foolishly crossed the tracks onto Black Patsy’s turf.

One.  The Lifetime Network censor dude responsible for hitting the Swear Button up in the sound booth, because that poor guy was assigned the task of (bleepin’) out a good two thirds of this week’s show.  Give that boy a raise and a thumb massage.

Two.  Whoever heads up the St. Louis Department of Tourism, because after witnessing what went down at this week’s competition, I am never setting foot in that city.  Ever.

And neither is most of America.  Oh Hell No.

Using only her ‘hood mentality and racially inappropriate nickname, Kaya Wiley single handedly did more damage to the Anheuser-Busch brewery bus tour business than any bad rating from the Missouri Board of Health could ever hope to accomplish.

Cuz she’s ‘hood.  And you’re in the ‘hood.  Her ‘hood, Bitches.

HoodBitchHoodBitchHoodBitchHoodBitch.  There was a lot of that going around this week.  You might want to send the kids out of the room before we go any further.

But even a turf war has to start with the Pyramid of Shame.

As all the Moms and kiddos filed into the studio, Abby Lee Miller was MIA.  And she’s never late when it comes to bruising egos and crushing dreams, so you knew something wasn’t right in Pittsburgh.

When she finally showed, visibly shaken, it was revealed that little Broadway Baby had passed away.  Abby’s 16 year old puppy with the exceptionally runny eyes had died.

So that was sad.

Finding out that he had kidney failure was also sad, but I’m leaning towards blaming that part on Black Patsy, because in all honesty when I heard that she was coming back I wet myself a little, too.

But dog or no dog, the show must go on.  They were all headed to Black PatsyVille for the Dance Xpressions Competition and there was a lot of work to do, so Abby blew through the Pyramid in record time.

Bottom row was a Hyland family photo opp, with Paige and Brooke taped side by side, and tiny Mackenzie keeping them company.

Kendall and Nia were chillin’ on the second row, which left room for Maddie‘s second time on top.  Even Abby didn’t seem too concerned about who went where this time around.

Chloe was still on suspension, because Abby needed something that would put a smile on her face while she mourned the loss of her dog, and watching Christi’s Paranoia Pot slowly boil over was just what the doctor ordered.

With everything going on this week, there really isn’t time to properly do justice to all the Mom Ensembles that were modeled during the line up, so I’ll just say that…yes…mixing prints and patterns is very on trend.  I watch Project Runway.  

But I also watch What Not To Wear, and I know that when it starts looking like you got dressed on Laundry Day, it’s time to edit.

Seriously.  No idea what was going on with Jill’s polka dot and plaid medley, though I’m thinking that someone is spending so much time picking out what new crazy hat to wear that it turns into crunch time when she finally has to get dressed and get out the door.

Oy vey.  My eyes.

As the Moms headed to the Mom Perch, all the girls got working on the ballet group routine until Abby suffered a Broadway Baby Breakdown and had to leave the building to pull her shizzle together.  While assistant choreographer Niyala worked it out, the Moms all huddled in formation upstairs and decided that the girls should not only design a homemade sympathy card, but that they should also toss the whole group number out with the bathwater and create an entirely new Dog Memorial Dance to cheer up Abby.

Because you know that nothing cheers a person up like changing their music and their choreography and their costumes and their headpieces behind their back three days before competition, right?

Anyone wanna place any bets on how that all worked out before we get the results?

While everyone was sabotaging and sympathizing all over Abby’s hard work, Miss Miller was actually home with her own Mom mourning little Baby.

And, excuse me.  Why didn’t anyone tell me that Abby lived in Superman‘s Fortress of Solitude?  Cuz I’m sure that’s what it was.

Remember in the movie when Clark Kent walked through the front door and it was all blinding white light and white walls and white ceilings and white bookcases and white photos?  I was literally waiting for Abby to move a bottle of Cheese Whiz, pick up one of those hidden magical ice sticks from the kitchen counter, hurl it on the floor and start talking to Marlon Brando.  For realz.

And Abby’s Mom had the same giant silk bow in the back of her head that a crazy lady I see in the subway station every morning wears while she talks to her mitten.

What can I say?  I’m blessed with an eye for detail.

As the competition grew closer, Abby was once again MIA at the studio, and the Moms were getting concerned.  Even Christi and Kelly were concerned, when they weren’t chewing on each other’s necks.

They still weren’t getting along too well.  I guess that telling your former BFF to go eff herself will do that.

While everyone tried to figure out how to magically create a completely new dance based on Jill’s favorite iPhone ringtone, Black Patsy was up in St. Louis setting the Civil Rights Movement back about four decades.

Cuz she’s ‘hood.  And the ALDC was coming to her ‘hood.

HoodBitchHoodBitch.  Trash with a Title.  Abby’s big on feet, even if she can’t see her own feet.  Doctor Holly has a edjukashun that she don’t even use.  HoodBitchHoodBitch.

Girl, pleez.  You are wearing me out.  And NeNe sez Fix Yo’ Face, Bitch.

Back in PA, there was just enough time to work on Maddie and Nia’s solos.  Abby finally returned, because nothing makes her happier than working with Maddie and ignoring Nia.  So Maddie got a private tutorial, and Nia got another hat.

Is it just me, or is this show big on hats lately?

Right about now was when Abby realized that the group number had been completely changed, and the whole Tribute to Baby thing backfired so hard it almost knocked Jill’s hair back into place.  Abby was not happy.  Not happy at all.  And definitely not thankful for any of the work that had been put in while she was home kissing dog photos.

With only one day left before Dance Xpressions, Abby activated the ALDC Panic Switch and morphed the group routine into kind of a DIY Night at the Improv dance.

Here’s the CD, kids.  Now go on stage and keep yourself busy.  Mama ain’t in the mood.

Oh.  And Christi and Kelly went a few more rounds in the Ring.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And time to meet up with Black Patsy in the lobby.

The competition hadn’t even started yet, but you could tell BP was already looking to rumble.  And you knew she meant business because all her big a** braided weave was pulled to one side like they do on VH1.  That makes it much easier to head butt a bitch without losing a track, by the way.

The More You Know, kids.

After mocking Dr. Holly for being a Dr. Holly and then calling all the Moms boughetto, Black Patsy headed to her seat and the competition began.

Nia and Baby Black Patsy, Nicaya, busted out their solos.  Those damn signature Dance Xpressions backstage light grids were plugged in again, flashing like Kmart window displays, and they were so distracting that I can’t remember how the solos turned out.

I remember that nobody fell down, and that Nia still had a hat on when it was over, so I guess they both did ok.

Maddie’s solo was only marred by this odd off-centered glittery heart appliqué that made it appear as though she had been stabbed in the chest with a prison shiv.  When the dance was over the emcee announced that Maddie’s routine was dedicated to Abby’s dead dog and the crowd all clapped their paws together one last time for Baby.

And then the whole thing just went downhill from there.

Melissa scored a major brownie point by sneaking that one in past the other Moms, but it blew up in her face after it was over.  The original dealio was that the group number was to be the dead dog tribute.  Not Maddie’s solo.

But Maddie is Maddie and Melissa is Melissa.  So do the math.

Then the group Improv hit the stage.  And the ‘hood shizzle hit the fan.

After mumbling smack talk behind the ALDC Moms throughout the entire dance, all the Black Patsy dramz finally spilled out into the lobby.  And it was on.

Surrounded by millions of those Justin Bieber fans that follow dance competitions like they’re on some kind of religious crusade to Stonehenge, Kaya went total Bad Girls Club meets Sam’s Club right up in Jill’s face.

She trash talked Kendall.  Who is Jill’s daughter.

Jill Vertes.  The same Jill who threw water on that crazy Candy Apple’s woman .  The same Jill who threw a shoe across the room.  The same Jill who clearly can’t dance Gangnam Style to save her life, but proudly does it like a Boss anyway and holds the record for the most consistently bad hair days in one television season.

The same Jill that used to drive me crazy but now completely captivates me with her insane ballsy-ness, if that’s even a word.  The same Jill who tries to fight like she has a gang tattoo on her butt cheek even though it’s really just the tag from her Spanx.

That Jill.

In 3…2…1.  Boom.

HoodBitchHoodBitch.  You wanna go there, Bitch?  You don’t wanna go there, Bitch.

Screaming.  Yelling.  You got kicked out of the studio, Bitch.  No, Bitch…I left.  You went crawling back.

Seriously, the only thing missing was Maury Povich running on stage with a DNA test and Kaya going all Baby Daddy on that pudgy guy who kept trying to break it all up.

They both did a lot head snapping and OhNoSheDin’t finger waving.  Jill’s version had to be seen to be believed.

And when all the dance kids are all grown up and this show is no longer on the air, you can bet that Christi has already received an offer to do impressions at the Comedy Connection.  I know I’d totally buy a ticket to see that crazy blonde chick pretend to be all ghetto and pat her weave like Beyoncé.  It was so wrong it was right.

Then Black Patsy was finally kicked outta the hizzle, and outta the competition.

Granted, she misplaced her own kid and it took awhile for her to actually realize it and leave the premises, but she finally made it outside and disappeared onto the mean streets of St. Louis.

Haters gonna hate.

Abby apologized to all the girls putting videos up on their youtube page, and the emcee apologized to everyone during the awards ceremony.

And then some kids won some stuff and Christ and Kelly hugged it out.

Cuz that’s how they roll in the ‘hood, Bitch.

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