Posts Tagged ‘gossip’

Dance Moms: Now You See Her. Now You Don’t. Where Is Abby This Week? And Who’s Running The Show Here?

Wednesday, August 21st, 2013




Oh hey, Girlfriend. Come on in. Just giving myself a keratin treatment and eating that big a** plate of Dunkin’ Donuts back there.





I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do? I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do? I’m touchin’ yo face. Whatcha gonna do?






Pardon me, Ma’am. Is this seat taken? I’d kinda like to see what it feels like to sit with winners for a change. You mind?






Excuse me all to Hell for not coughing up $1,000 for a damn dance class. These weaves ain’t cheap.







Bitch, please. I know synthetic when I see it. And the tag goes in the back. Lawd.







Seriously? Do you really have to pose in every outfit? I’m pretty sure everyone knows by now that you’re the Hot Mom.






Friends don’t let friends drink and drive.  Or ugly cry in high definition.





Sound the alarm.

Release the bloodhounds.

And straighten your feet for crying out loud.

Nobody panic, but Pittsburgh is going on lockdown.  The inmates are running the prison.

If you’re the kind of person who looks for the most bang from your buck, you definitely got your money’s worth this week.  Dance Moms had pretty much everything that you love to hate about the show all stuffed into one jam packed hour.  Mama Drama, tears, hilarity, hysteria, loads of sassy smack talk…and even a few moments of actual dancing.

The only thing they didn’t seem to have was anyone in charge.

That’s right.  For the second week in a row, the ALDC bus was speeding downhill with no brakes and no driver as Abby Lee Miller remained mysteriously absent for the majority of the episode, appearing and disappearing into the shadows like some kind of plus sized Ninja warrior whenever the mood felt right.

The general consensus between all the Moms was that Abby had taken time off to be with her ailing mother, though there were lingering questions regarding a Starpower judging opportunity, some random party girl Instagram postings and that mysterious “Mandy” who kept answering Abby’s cell phone whenever they called.

So basically, no one had any idea what was going on.

Leave it to Melissa to get to the bottom of things.  Before breakfast.

In what was clearly supposed to be a surprise drop-in visit over at Abby’s house (…“Melissa?  Is that you?  Oh, heeeeey”…) Maddie‘s Mom showed up unannounced to check in on Abby and find out what was really going on.  Except that the camera guy clearly beat her to it and was already filming Abby piling up a mound of donuts by the time she got there.

Yeah.  I’m thinking it wasn’t much of an unannounced drive-by unless the camera guy just happened to come over early to help Abby condition her hair.  Some dudes are into that kind of thing I suppose.


And can we talk about how many donuts were on that plate?

Portion control, honey.  You don’t want to slip into a diabetic coma and be found on the floor still wearing that blinged out towel head wrap.

I still can’t decide whether Abby reminded me of a fortune teller or the Head of that Witches Counsel they used to always show on Bewitched or one of those crazy Boca ladies who go out in their housecoats to get the mail and when you look through the open door you always see The Price Is Right on the television and about 15 cats.

There was a lot going on in that little kitchen.

Melissa pleaded her case to get Abby back to the studio before the upcoming Nationals, but she didn’t do very well.  Abby wanted to be close to her mother and as far away as possible from Kelly and her two kids now that they had snuck back into the ALDC.

After getting confirmation that Maddie would (…naturally…) get a chance to dance at Nationals and then stuffing a few Bavarian Cremes in her purse, Melissa was on her way.

Back at the studio, choreographer Gianna was large and in charge for a second week and ready to bring home another win.  She knew that the gang would be heading to Charleston, WV for another Masters of Dance Competition, but she didn’t know if Abby would be tagging along or not.

She also knew that Chloe was doing a solo this week, Asia was going to eat Mackenzie alive in a dueling divas duet and that the group routine was going to be amaze balls.

As the girls all got to rehearsing and the Moms headed upstairs, we scooted up to Ohio to check in with the Candy Apples and see what evil comic book plot Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein was hatching this week.

That momentary spike in the Twitterverse that may or may not have slowed down your laptop right around this point was the return of Zack Torres.

That’s right, girls.  You can start screaming now.  It’s a full blown Zack Attack!


Now that Anthony Burrell had apparently separated himself from the Candy Apples and would no longer be forcing any more boys into inappropriate Pinocchio high kicks in Richard Simmons shorty shorts, the coast was clear for Zack to return.

And now that he was back, just the thought of Zack and Lady Killer Lucas Triana one-legging it together on stage pretty much gave Cathy the vapors.  She may have even wet herself a little, but they only shot her from the waist up so I can’t be certain.

Chaos Cathy unveiled her Apple TV power point pyramid, which is always too hard for me to figure out since it kind of goes in an odd circle instead of just up and down like Abby’s Pyramid of Shame.  All that really matters is that Lucas was on top of the apple tree and his Danny Zuko from Grease headshot pretty much always gives me life.

Rama Lama Ding Dong.

Cathy also called out Nicaya for not being as well trained as the other dancers and then we got to watch Mom Kaya get all hood rat about the high price of tap class.

Will someone please get this bitch her own show or do I have to post for some Kickstarter funding on my own?  Seriously.

In my head, Kaya and Kristie Ray share an apartment like Laverne & Shirley and just go around the country smacking people around all day.  Could you die?

I’ll let you know when my pilot gets the green light.  It’s gonna be awesome sauce.

Cathy had seen on social media (…that’s what it’s called, you know…) that Chloe would be doing a solo in Charleston, so she was going to put Zack up against her on stage.

She claimed that Chloe was not as good a dancer as she used to be, which I assumed was a reference to her days of dancing in a dress made out of cold cuts and jerky meat.

It’s a shame to peak at such a young age.

Back in Pittsburgh, the Moms were once again voicing their concern that Abby should be on site helping them get ready for the end of the dance season and not hiding out God knows where.


Melissa’s selective memory also resurfaced as she got a little foggy on whether or not Abby had actually mentioned anything about Maddie getting a solo at Nationals.

Of course she did.

Somewhere around this point I also lost track of how many OhHellNo faces Holly had made thus far in the episode.  I was really trying to count them because I had a good feeling that this week was going to break all the records and I thought there might be an online contest later, but Girlfriend was busting that shiz out so fast I couldn’t keep up.

Oh snap.

I’m pretty sure they also spliced in a bunch of old scenes between Christi and Kelly again, because everything they said about Abby and the kids we’ve already heard a million times.  Even the fat jokes were last week’s fat jokes.  Time for some new shtick.

Up in Ohio, that cow with the #20 ear tag was back stealing the opening scene as crazy faced Yvette tried to help Cathy with choreography.

And by ‘help’ I mean walking that fine Yvette line between assisting someone with a group number and actually climbing up a ladder and putting your own damn name on the outside of the building.

Dial it down a notch, sistah.  The building’s not on fire.

Yvette also started bringing back her patented t-shirt catch phrases that first made her a star on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.

Remember last year when she first unleashed her krazy on all of us and every sentence was nothing but “Dance for the Cause, NOT the Applause” or “Tap it don’t Slap it” or “Asia’s Mom’s a Total Bitch?”

Remember all that hilarity?  Well…it’s back.  So get used to it.

And you know what else was back?

The Abby-nator!

I know, right?  About time.

Abby strolled into the ALDC like nothing had ever happened, bullied Paige and Brooke a little and then took a few Christi F-bombs right in the face.


There was a big argument regarding who broke the ALDC contract the most by swearing or not showing up or blah blah blah.  They even pointed out that the ALDC legal paper mumbo jumbo said something about creating a ‘nourishing’ environment, which I think was supposed to have been ‘nurturing’ environment, unless there is an actual cafeteria on the premises.

That part got a little weird.  Read the fine print, ladies.

Luckily, it was National Exposed Shoulder Week and all the Moms were rocking those cold shoulder tops that they make such a big deal about on QVC, so that distracted me from all the swearing.

I’m not lying.  Go back and look at how many of the ladies were showing skin.  And they were totally pissed that only my girl Kristie knew how to do it like they show in Cosmo.


As both teams finished up rehearsals before the Big Day, it was clear that Hadley didn’t use enough sunscreen last weekend and that Asia was gonna turn Kenzie out like that fourth member of Destiny’s Child that nobody remembers.

Love you Mackadoodle, but you should probably just stick to clown noses and pigtails.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And a CNN report on the bloody riots in the streets of Egypt.

Which turned out to be a false alarm, because it was actually just the ALDC and the CADC contingents coming face to face in a sign-holding, parking lot screaming match that looked like one of those housekeeper rallies gone bad.

When Kristie got accused of touching Cathy I died.  Right there on my couch.  I died.

I can’t even imagine sitting in the back seat with Kristie when she was little on long family vacation rides to the Grand Canyon.

I’m touching you.  Quit it.  I’m touching you.  Quit it.  Mom!

That Dilbert guy from Candy Apples didn’t stand a chance once those earrings got flapping and Kristie did her now infamous bad a** mime hands all up in his grill.

I’ll say it again.  Once that ponytail starts whipping around it looks like the final battle scene from The X-Men.  Let’s go!

Love.  Her.


Ninja Abby no-showed, by the way.  Go figure.

Inside, I don’t know if it was planned or not, but there was a space between the seats that allowed all of America to see Kristie’s fashion model legs.  Like they used to do with Mary Hart on Entertainment Tonight with that awkward crotch light.

It was a total NeNe Leakes shiny leg Watch What Happens Live moment.  Dang, girl.

It should probably also be noted that poor Jill, on the other hand, was wearing a floor length maxi-dress with four rows of folding movie chairs in front of her.  Just saying.

All the dancing was pretty good.  Zack and Lucas had no shirt on again.  I’m not sure if Lucas even owns one or if he just keeps forgetting his backpack in Miami.

Christi spent the remainder of the show screaming like some drunk chick at Mardi Gras trying to score plastic jewelry in exchange for a quick flash of her t***s.  Really.  She did.

Throw me some beads, Mister!

Out in the hallway all the Moms met up again, and somehow Mom Gina #2 made it sound like Cathy did all the choreography and inadvertently dissed Yvette in front of all the ALDC peeps.

Meltdown in 3…2…1…

Yvetter lost her nutty and got way too close to my television screen.  Waaaaay too close.

When it was all said and done, Abby’s team won all the good stuff.  Which, if you do the math, meant that the Candy Apples team didn’t.

More tears.  More dramz.

With only a few weeks left until Nationals, there was still no Abby…and not much of a chance that anyone in Ohio needed to buy any bus tickets in the near future.

Candy Apples was in shambles and the ALDC was missing it’s Leader.

Now what?

Raise your hands if you can’t wait to find out what happens next week…


Dan Cool Hot SPF Mess: That’s Right. Tan Mom Is Back With Another Music Video. Really…That Just Happened.

Friday, August 16th, 2013



How does this keep happening?

What did we ever do to you, New Jersey?

The Garden State, home to the highest number of toxic waste dumps of any state in the nation, just unleashed their most famous one back in our pasty white faces again.

And she’s singing.  I think.

Patricia Krentcil, better known as Tan Mom, is back with her second music video.  And it’s everything you hoped it would be.

And more.


More sun damaged skin.

More uncomfortable awkwardness.

More sun dried wannabe Britney extensions.

More auto tuned awesomeness and slo mo running.

More inappropriately exposed jiggly stuff.

More bathing suit bottoms going where no man has gone before.

More ear bleeding, eye burning moments destined for your iMac screen saver.

And more proof that this crazy bitch has no idea what she’s doing at any time of the day.

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Oh, Patricia.

Such the Life of the Party.

Milking the longest 15 minutes of fame ever (…next to that sex tape Kardashian lady who’s apparently hiding out somewhere all unmarried and nursing, of course…) Tan Mom is fresh out of rehab ready to lay down some fresh tracks and butt cracks.

And our girl has definitely upped her game for Round Two.

Cuz she brought friends.

We’re talking drag queens, a randomly fabulous dude in shorty shorts all sprawled out on a couch with his skinny dog (…a real one…don’t be a perv…) and unknown pop singer Adam Barta, who for some reason decided to put one more nail in the coffin that is his almost-career.


And did I mention that Skinny Dog can lip synch?

Because that totally happens.

So hit the beach and get ready to scorch your retinas one more time.

I give you the terrifying artistry that is Patricia Krentcil: The Sequel.

So unwatchable that you’ll need to watch it twice.

Because it’s Tan Mom, Bitch.



Toddlers & Tiaras: When It’s Nothing But Prehistoric Pixie Stix And Bedrock Bling, It’s The Starz N Glitz Stone Age.

Thursday, July 4th, 2013




Mama’s just about to show Mr. Tony some Stone Age Realness and drag that fine piece of meat back to my cave. Dang.






What’s it gonna be, people? A crown on the head or a pie in the face? Figure it out, cuz Bozo ain’t playing tonight.






Pucker up, Baby Doll. Time to show them bitches how we get it done.







You might wanna hold on to your Big Girl Panties back there, Honey. Tony T-Rex is here, and I’m wearing Armani.






What a rip. The stupid crowns look way bigger on TV. Total crap. I quit!






These camera lights are way too hot. You know I specifically requested that my boogers and 64 oz. Mountain Dew always be served at room temperature.





Lawd, please stop me from throwing that tiny a** crown and about five of these damn people right out that kitchen window. I just can’t.




Yabba Dabba Glitter Glue.

If you like it, then you better put a bone in it.

Your hair, that is.  And you should probably stick a flipper in your mouth while you’re at it, because it’s time to walk those prehistoric pretty feet all the way back to the Paleolithic Pageant Era and see how they booty popped on hot lava.

Toddlers & Tiaras turned back the clock this week with a dinosaur-sized Starz N Glitz extravaganza, aptly titled the Queen of the Stone Age Pageant.  And it was everything that we’ve come to expect from my girl Cray Cray Carla.

You remember Pageant Director Carla Smith.  I know you do.  How could you not?

The last time we saw Carla was at that fiesta-themed pageant, where she was getting her burritos all in a bunch over dreamboat emcee Mr. Tony.  She wanted him for her boyfriend, and would do just about anything to whack that fine piece of piñata hard enough to make some sweet candy come pouring out on date night.

No lie.  I could probably watch Carla school girl giggle and smiley squint over Mr. Tony all day.

It would be like being back in study hall listening to that generic Big Girl BFF that everybody knew talk about the latest Channing Tatum movie until she couldn’t breath without her inhaler.  You know she practices writing her married name in the back of her notebook.

Love me some Carla.  And as I mentioned the last time, she is officially the designated driver when Pageant Director Annette Hill and I go out klubbin’, mainly because I can’t even imagine Carla with booze in her mouth.  Cray to the umpteenth power of Cray.

Clearly, Carla had seen Mr. Tony’s Facebook page the day he mentioned that he was hot for brunettes, because she was now rocking the same sultry shade of Desperate Housewives that’s on the Eva Longoria L’Oréal box at Walgreen’s.

Even Carla’s whacky Baby Goes To Communion hairpiece had gotten an HD technicolor upgrade for 2013.  Not to mention her new Dance Moms Bare Minerals makeup.  You could literally pause your DVR while Carla was talking and adjust every one of the 5,000 Panasonic colors on your TV screen without having to run the set-up program.


She’s gonna break some hearts, and put the Best Buy Geek Squad out of business at the same time, if she’s not careful.  Pump your brakes, Girlfriend.

Carla explained how the pageant was going to work, and then explained how cubic zirconia rhinestones were actually created from erupting volcanoes on the same day that all the dinosaurs died.  Really.

I guess if you can believe that Eva Longoria actually does her own hair in the kitchen sink, then magical prehistoric rhinestones aren’t really that much of a stretch.

Our first tiny contestant was 2 year old Charli, Mom Samantha and a potential new candidate for coolest pageant Dad..evah…Evan.

As Mom rambled on and on about her little DIT (…Diva In Training, duh…) and Charli’s surfer dude brother wandered in and out of every camera shot, I was momentarily blinded by not only the awesomeness of her Dad but also the awesome neon tee shirt warning all of America about all that awesomeness.

Too late.  My eyes.

Evan wanted to be Pageant Dad of the Millennium or something, and stands a pretty good chance of snagging that trophy right out from under Ava Perez‘s crazy sewing machine Dad the next time Mr. Perez gets all distracted by one of his now infamous needle threading Drama Queen meltdowns.

Is David still out there somewhere?  (No pun intended, of course.)

Whereas Ava’s Dad is just straight up (…no pun intended, again…) Liberace Fabulous, Charli’s Dad is pretty Home Depot Normal despite his penchant for wearing pint-sized tiaras and busting out uncomfortably spot-on imitations of 3 year old girls coming down from a chemically induced sugar buzz.

Oh.  And their sissy dog used to do pageants, too.  Little sissy dog pageants, complete with little sissy dog outfits.  And he even had a little sissy dog wiglet that clamped on his head like a dorm desk light, which must come in real handy when he’s all alone at night licking his non-existent nibblies in horrified shame.

The dog, I mean.

The next little princess was an All-Cap SpellCheck nightmare, thanks to 2 year old Maddisyn-Rae and her Mom TreShanda.


(Almost that entire sentence just got underlined in red by my computer, thank you.)

Maddi Moo Moo and Mom Mom lived with Baby Daddy/Boyfriend Michael Michael in the same house with Michael’s parents Antonia and Harvey, some cousins or sisters (…I forget…) as well as another baby or two, some stragglers and at least three of the guys from Bel Biv Devoe.

Fo’ realz.  That hizzle was packed to the fo’ shizzle with people.  And the whole reason that Mom Mom and Mike Mike moved in was so they didn’t have to pay Rent Rent and could spend their money on Moo Moo’s pageants and designer dinosaur costumes.

I know, right?  Shut the front door.  Or sign me up…and then shut the front door.  If it even shuts with all those people wedged up against it from the other side, I mean.

Maddi was a cutie, and looked exactly like Aretha Franklin would look like if you washed her and then left her in the dryer too long.

That’s also probably why the Motown label always said you should hang your Divas out to dry.  If Maddi wasn’t so busy eating everything that she could scoop out of her nose, I’m sure she would have done a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T, but the nasal nosh went on for the entire hour so no songs tonight.  Sorry.

Maybe she can sing the theme song for the television show that TLC better be developing for her grandparents, who were HIGHsterical.  (If I had a penny for every time someone told me “That tail looks like a jalapeño pepper !” I’d be a rich man.)

Grandpa made me spit my drink out a few times and wish that Sanford & Sons was still on cable.  If there’s any room left, I need to live with that family.  They were that funny.

The third and final Stone Age wannabe was 3 year old Savannah and Barnum & Bailey Mom Natasha.

Seriously.  If you still have Clown on the Toilet nightmares like I do, this episode probably set you back at least 6 months in electro-shock therapy.


All Savannah really wanted to do was play hockey with Dad Andrew and his crazy gelled-up hair (…or was that the longest mullet ever?..) but since Mom had taken on a second job to pay for pageants, being a goalie was going to have to wait until the balloon animal job market dried up.

Snakes on a Plane.  Clowns in the Bathroom.  Whatev.  I don’t want to see either of them reflected in the vanity mirror while I’m doing my bidnezz.

As for Stone Age props, the local mall didn’t leave much to the imagination, so Charli and her family went dumpster diving for parts to build a Flintstone car.  Like the one you move with your feet while balancing a gigantic dinosaur sparerib on the roof.

That car.  With a hole in the roof for Dino‘s head.

If Evan really wants to be Pageant Dad of the Universe he needs to either stop sweating so much, or stop showing us how much he sweats.  Wet or not, though, he’s still a riot.

(Spoiler Alert:  I don’t know what back alley trash heap they climbed into, but that Flintstone car looked exactly like the real Flintstone car after it was built.  It’s like they dug through the actual Flintstone’s trash cans just to make a fake Flintstone car.)

Back at Maddisyn-Rae’s house, Mom was losing her nutty over a specially designed dinosaur costume that arrived just in time for the pageant, but unfortunately didn’t fit.

Who knew boogers were so fattening?  Portion control.  That’s all I’m saying.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And Dreamboat Mr. Tony Time!

Carla’s fantasy lover was back to work the room, styling in his pinstripes and hotel lounge swagger.  If some of those Pageant Moms had actually been wearing bras, they would have totally taken them off and thrown them at the podium.  True dat.

I love you Mr. Tony!!!!!  Have my pageant baby!!!!!

T&T Drinking Game Alert:  Take a shot every time Carla walks behind Mr. Tony’s well sculpted gym butt while he’s trying to work.  Oh, yeah.  Mama likes.


All three of our little contestants had a few seizures before going on stage.  Maddi and Charli cried so loudly that my downstairs neighbors pounded on their ceiling for me to shut my kids up, while Savannah kept going into a silent WishIWasPlayingHockey zombie-like state.

Must.  Play.  Hockey.  Now.

Side note:  I swear I saw some random non-pageant kid drinking from a flask.  Straight up.  No chaser.  Please tell me that someone else saw that.

Apparently, Maddi Boo Boo can’t go on stage without Mike Mike waving a stuffed animal (…also coincidentally named Boo…singular…) behind the judges.  So leaving it packed in the car probably wasn’t his best move that day, nor was his casual stroll out to the parking lot to retrieve the dog.  We’re in Crisis Mode, dude.  Pick it up a little.

Grandma Antonia gave yet another example of why she needs her own television show by going totz bonkers during Maddi’s performance.  If it was me, instead of that wide eyed judge who looked like one of the neighbors on Green Acres, I would have scoffed up one of those pink crowns when no one was looking and handed it to Grandma just for that crazy dance.

Savannah’s flipper fell on the floor and sent Clown Mom into a tail spin as she raced to wash it off before Tony Suavé called her number up on stage.

Really?  You make balloon animals that kids suck on for the entire length of the circus, but you can’t allow the Five Second Rule to go into effect just this once so we don’t hold up an entire ballroom?  Plus, I know  for a fact that you bite the end of those long skinny ones and stretch them out before you even blow them up into pirate swords.

That other kid on stage eats her own boogers, ferchrissake.  I don’t think a little rug fuzz is gonna put your kid in ICU.  Relax.


Stone Age Wear was exactly what you would expect.  Lots of Pebbles Flintstone and animal print.

Charli squealed on stage with her dumpster car, clearly moving faster than Maddi, who just stood there in a fog.  I feel your pain, sister.  I can barely brush my teeth after a nap, much less work a stage.

Savannah shook up the theme by dressing all in leaves and performing as Eve, even though she looked more like Poison Ivy from the Batman movie.  But it was really cute, even though she was 78% fake hair.  I think she got extra points from at least one judge for not falling over under the weight of all the weave Mom pinned on her little skull.

Then some kids won some stuff.

But not Maddi Moo Moo.  Nope Nope.  Just Runner-Up.  Not even a crown to throw out the damn window.

Yeah.  Mom was not happy.

Charli won pint sized Queen and then had another meltdown.  This time her hair went just as spaz as her brain.

Savannah won Mini Supreme, which made Mom smile a real smile and not just a fake clown smile.

Mama don’t dress up as no clown just for runner-up, bitches.  Mmmkay?

And then, while everyone was distracted by what appeared to be some 42 year old woman winning the Ultimate Grand Supreme title, Evan raided the prize table, piled on as many tiaras and sashes as he could at one time and then shot out the side door before Security could even get the crowns off his head.

Wilma, we’re outta here.  Flintstone feet, don’t fail me now.

Yup.  It’s good to be Pageant Dad of a Modern Stone Age Family.

Yabba Dabba Doo!


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