Posts Tagged ‘Honey Boo Boo Child Sister Lauryn (“Pumpkin”)’

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: Y’All Better Blow Your Nose And Dab Your Cards, Because Bingo Ain’t Nuthin To Sneeze About. Ah-Choo Boo Boo!

Thursday, September 20th, 2012



I either need me some new glasses from the Piggly Wiggly, or that’s Mario Lopez playing Bingo behind me. Stay cool, June Bug.





Seriously. I don’t know what’s in these markers, but it is some goooood s***. I could sniff this bad boy all day.





I got me my lucky watermelon and some Orange Fanta. Daddy’s bringing home some cash tonight, bitches.





No, really. It even tastes like Glitter and Cherry Jell-O. This shizzle is off the hook. Gimme some more cards and keep ’em comin’, boys. Boo Boo likes.





This is my ‘Bingo Face.’ It’s also my ‘What’s That Smell Face’ and my ‘I Don’t Even Remember Eating That Face.’





Forget the RNC. Looks like even Wednesday Bingo Night takes a hit when Honey Boo Boo Child is on TV.




There is definitely something in the air in Georgia.

I don’t know if it’s pollen, Amtrak exhaust or smoke from that BBQ Shack with all the pig memorabilia.

But whatever it is, it’s making everyone sneeze.  And eat.

A lot.

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo was back for another Redneckulous episode and as a TLC public service announcement, it would have been nice if the whole thing had come with some sort of Kleenex disclaimer during the opening credits.

By now, we already know that sitting through an entire episode pretty much requires a pack of Wet-Naps and a fresh flip top of floss at the finish line.  That’s no news flash.

Even the sneezes aren’t really anything new.

But this week we were treated to the kind of industrial-sized honks and woogies that would make any Coupon Queen proud, as whatever it is that’s floating in that thick Georgia air claimed a few more victims.

With only a week or so left before Alana‘s big pageant, it was time to get serious.  In preparation for the competition, Mama June had already bought a new BeDazzled cupcake dress and hooked Honey Boo Boo Child up with that crazy lady with the matching crazy a** striped hair from Deevas Dance Studio.  So now it was on to a makeup tutorial.

Always the budgeting penny pincher, June knew that between the new dress, that crazy a** hair lady and pageant entry fees that this was going to cost a good chunk of change to get Alana on the stage.  So saving some dinero wherever she could was key.

And since most pageant organizations now frown on bartering for their services with a Ford truck cab full of Brawny paper towels, it was clear that June was going to have to learn how to do Alana’s makeup on her own.  Cutting out a hired hair and makeup person could not only save upwards of $400, but it would also free up some elbow room in those congested hotel suites as everyone goes into panic mode four minutes before their age group is called.

Did I just say upwards of $400?  To do a 7 year old’s makeup?

Shut.  Up.  Seriously.  If I wasn’t worried about getting pegged as a perv or having to explain where I go every weekend and why I have so many little Ramada soaps, I would totally be downtown right now banging on the front door of CVS until the overnight cleaning crew let me inside to bag some Revlon and Aqua Net.  $400?  Sign me up.

Sparkle, baby.  And get that lipstick off your flipper.  My bad.

So it was off to the Style Salon for the Boo Boo girls and Mama, where Jennifer Garner was going to show them how to get Alana all Beautimous.

I know, right?  Jennifer Garner!  Do you think Ben Affleck‘s baby might be there in the chair next to Boo Boo?  I’m so excited.

Psych.  Wrong Jennifer Garner.

I guess the first clue should have been the outside of the building, that looked like either a holding cell where they stick you when the cops are stuck in traffic, or one of those after-hour clubs with no door knobs.

Second clue should have probably been the printed label wrapped around whatever meds you’re on that would ever make you think Jennifer Garner was going to be the one doing Honey Boo Boo Child’s makeup.

Like that’s ever gonna happen.

The Fake JG got right down to business on Alana’s face as June watched with that same kind of intensity you would have when your first pick up truck is getting detailed.  JG split Boo Boo’s face down the center and made her Super Modelicious on the left side and then handed the reigns to June.

Remember the episode of H. R. Puffnstuff when they kept screaming “MakeUP!!!” and then slamming a pillow case full of powder into Witchypoo‘s face over and over?

Yeah.  It was like that.  But worse.

(And hey…I heard that.  Maybe I’m not old enough to remember the show.  Maybe I just watched it on youtube for the first time this week, mmmkay?  Don’t be hatin’, bitches.)

By the time June finished tagging Alana’s right side with what appeared to be either gangstah symbols or an homage to that guy in KISS who has the star on one eyeball, it was a hot mess.  Guess she better start bankrolling another $400 and hit me up on my Sidekick.

Since it was clear that a hair and makeup person was now in their future, June and Sugar Bear took all the Boo Boos down to the VFW Hall for Wednesday Bingo Night, in an attempt at scoring the $1000 prize.

If we learned anything from the entire Republican National Convention caving in under the sheer weight of Redneck Power this month, it’s that nobody wants to do anything on a Wednesday night except watch Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.  Not even hardcore BingoHeads.

The place was empty, which should have given them pretty good odds at bringing home some bacon considering that all the Boo Boos combined made up roughly half of the building’s audience that night.

Alana didn’t really understand the whole concept and was initially happy to just disrupt everyone else’s focus and stamp out smiley faces on her napkin.  The rest of the Boo Boo girls basically ate snacks and dabbed the markers on their own noses while they chewed.  Shugie either slept or was really focused on his cards.  I’m not sure what was going on there.

Turns out that all the coupon fine printing has finally taken its toll on June’s eyes, which explained why she went full scale Mole Man every time a Bingo ball popped up out of that Bingo ball shoot thing.  Squinting like you do when your car first turns a corner during the evening rush and you get that full on setting sun burning into your corneas so badly that you’re afraid you’ll end up in one of those tragic Reader’s Digest stories about survival, June  could barely see the cards in front of her.

Guess that explains the whole makeup fiasco, too.

June called it her Bingo Face.  Whatchoo talkin’ about, Willis?

Controversy erupted at the close of the evening as Alana accused some lonely woman in the back of the hall of cheating.  Not that Alana really knew the rules.  But she lost.  And in the mind of a 7 year old child…and maybe mine as well…it always means someone else cheated.  Because losing sucks big ones.

As June explained to us how upset and disappointed Alana was at going home with nothing but Magic Marker finger, Mama was overcome with yet another one of her monster sneezing attacks, which I’m still contemplating using as my new ring tone.  I’ve never been too fascinated by the whole sneezing process until the Reality TV Gods gave me Honey Boo Boo, but now it’s like I’m nasally born again or something.

I’m pretty sure my television actually wobbled a little as June honked one out, it was so good.  Trust me…it was strong enough to send Dorothy to Oz and back before dinner.


After a quick nose wipe it was off to The Chic Boutique to meet up with Miss Georgia 2011, who was going to make a valiant attempt at teaching Alana some Klass.

Strutting up the sidewalk in total Baywatch slow motion, complete with a sassy Pam Anderson hair toss, Michaela Lackey had no clue what she was walking into once she finally made it up to Alana and Mama.

Obviously Michaela had not been able to contact Barbara Hickey, the Etiquette Coach who had previously tried to teach some table manners to the Boo Boos and see what she was up against with this family, or she would have been on the other side of the Georgia state line by now.  That lack of communication was most likely due to the fact that they probably have fairly limited visiting hours at whatever Insane Asylum Miss Manners was admitted to after Pumpkin tooted out a few good ones at the dining room table.

Hulu that episode.  Classic Gassic.

But Michaela gets an “A” for effort.

Hoping to give Alana tips on reaching her goals and maybe not talking with her mouth full, it was an exercise in futility.  The three of them poked around the boutique just long enough for Alana to run through a few wind chimes and try to knock a chandelier down with her face, and for Miss Georgia to perfect her fake smile.  She was dying on the inside, I tell you.  Dying.

Then it was off for some dessert, where Alana demonstrated how the Boo Boos like to take one gigantic piece of whatever happens to land on their plate and then slowly shove it down their throats like a wood chipper.  If it dangles out a few inches, so be it.

Alana then finished off the meal, and more than likely Miss Georgia’s television career, with a little gas and a face covered in at least three of the six major Food Groups.

Gah.  How much do I love this family?

With that job interview smile still pasted on her face, Michaela suggested that Alana may have some refining to do before she puts on a Miss America crown, and then slowly walked back off into the sunset with vaseline on her teeth and desperation in her eyes.

Thanks for playing.  We have some lovely parting gifts.

And speaking of gifts….it was time for Alana’s Birthday Party!

Honey Boo Boo Child was officially turning 7 and it was time to celebrate.  And nothing says Happy Birthday like raiding a Coupon Queen’s plastic shelving unit and regifting some hot sauce and liquid soap.

Yup.  Them other Boo Boo girls are some cheap a** bitches.

Pumpkin, Chubbs and Chickadee swiped some goods from Mama June’s Costco room and quickly wrapped them up with one sheet of gift wrap and four rolls of scotch tape.  Maybe five.

Having a Mother who hoards office supplies as well as toothpaste certainly has its benefits when it comes to last minute gifts.  And you don’t have to fight all that Black Friday traffic down at the Galleria when you can just go from the bathroom to the dining room and get all your shopping done while you’re still in your underwear.

Mama and Shugie had set up a Slip n’ Slide and a Sno-Cone booth in the front yard to create the ultimate birthday park, and Alana took a total spaz.  She loved every minute of it and spent the entire day buzzing between the slide and the pool and the pool and the slide.

Even June tried to climb the inflated steps on the slide, but that didn’t exactly go as planned.  Something about the rope being on the wrong side.  And maybe the fact that she’s substantially big and proud with a Forklift toe.  And water slides are basically gigantic balloons filled with non-supportive oxygen.  You can do the physics math on that one.

But it’s the thought that counts.  And Alana loved her hot sauce and her family…and that’s all that mattered.

It was the best birthday party ever.

Capped off with the best sneeze ever.  If you’re into gross, slimy sneezes that is.

Chilling out in her lawn chair, Alana finished off the show with a sneeze that pretty much blew out the portion of her brain responsible for long division.  Girl…it was nasty.

Who knew?  She must have picked up some manners from Miss Georgia after all, because Alana clamped her hands over her face to hide the evidence and then just sat there in horror wondering why nobody behind the camera could hand her a Kleenex.

That made two of us.  Nobody could help?  There’s an entire room in that freakin’ house with nothing but paper goods and nobody could run inside?

Not one person came to her rescue.

Ten minutes later, she was still sitting there.

I didn’t check, but it could have been another twenty before she finally…slooooowly…stood up and slipped past the cameras like cartoon characters do when they turn to rubber and just slide off the chair in search of the elusive tissue.

Next time is…Ah-Choo!…Pageant Time.

Big honk if you love Boo Boo.

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: Well, I Was Born A Chalk Miner’s Daughter In A Cabin By A Train In McIntyre. Smell My Breath…It Must Be Time For Sketti!

Thursday, September 13th, 2012




Moon Pie. Whoopie Pie. Shoo Fly. I don’t care whatchoo call it. All I know is that there is way too much stuff going on down there. Yeeuck.





Not gonna lie. I can smell my own breath now and it’s kinda making me hungry.






My lemonade brings all the boys to the yard. And they’re like “Hey…Sketti with Lard!” Muah.





What the hell? I’m pretty sure Eden Wood isn’t sitting outside hawking Solo cups in the hot sun. I’m Honey Boo Boo Child, bitches.





I know! How about a free roll of Brawny with every glass of lemonade? Unless we get more than 847 customers… Then we’re screwed.



I’m always kind of at a loss right after every episode of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

It’s not a bad thing.  It’s more like that awkward first few moments after you break up with someone and you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next.

Now you know I love me some Boo Boo.  Nothing but love.

That’s been well documented over the years.  I Redneckishly own that one.

But despite my lifetime charter membership in the Honey Boo Boo Child Fan Club, I still find myself wandering aimlessly in circles around the living room trying to figure out my next move as soon as I turn off the plasma.

I mean, really.  Do I wash my hands, take an antacid, open another bag of cheese balls, sterilize the remote, clean up all the soda I spilled during one of my giggle fits, pinch myself to prove it wasn’t all a dream or just have someone pull my finger and call it a night?

I never know.

Tonight, just to be safe, I checked off everything on the list because the show was that Cray Cray.

After the first of numerous near train derailments off to the left side of that wobbly garage (…which we now know storm by like clockwork every 10-15 minutes, thank you Anderson Cooper…) Mama June was trying to gather up all the Boo Boo Girls for a shopping trip.

Naturally, being a city slicker, I assumed that meant they would all grab their cells and their lip gloss and head to the Mall for an afternoon at Abercrombie and that place with the monster cinnamon rolls that you can smell all the way down in the JCPenney wing.

But no.

Who knew they only lived 100 feet from the Flash Foods Convenience Store?


Google Maps actually shows a train track, a garage, a house, some year-round Christmas icicle lights, crap in the yard, the other train track, a 25mph road and then a convenience store.  All in one corner of a screen shot that doesn’t even require any scrolling.  That’s how close everything is to Casa Boo Boo.

You don’t need a coat.  Hell, you don’t even need shoes if you’re Pumpkin.

Since we learned a little later in this same episode that Pumpkin doesn’t know how to spell the word “lemonade,” it kind of goes without saying that she probably isn’t any better at sounding out “No Shoes, No Service.”

That quickly became evident as she barreled her way into the 7-11 knock-off with all ten toes slapping the linoleum like Planet of the Apes when they all broke out of that zoo.

Run by Manager/Aspiring Hip Hop Krunker Donta, the store even came complete with a lightening bolt superhero logo and a co-worker who I believe was somehow related to Queen Latifah.

I pretty much grew to love the show even more…Right.  About.  Now.

Whereas most managers would see them coming across the parking lot and either hit the under-counter panic alarm or lock up early, Snoop Donta Donta welcomed the gang with open arms.  He even liked to call Pumpkin’s shoeless style her ‘Bamm Bamm look.’

Like the Flintstones in that episode where they paid a Board of Health fine for not wrapping their feet in wooly mammoth skin before touching open food.

That Bamm Bamm.

As Alana terrorized the store like a low-rent Kardashian, trying on every pair of sunglasses on the spinner, Queen Latifah’s cousin commented on how…umm…how different the Boo Boo Girls were, and how they certainly kept things interesting.

Donta loved them, too.  They were unique.  Like his Teef.

Big smile.  Big gold Flava Flav grill.

That’s right.  McIntyre, Georgia.  2010 Census Population: 650.

And at least one of them has gold teeth.

It was definitely right around this point that I grew to love the show even more.  I remember now.

After scooping up a few bags of junk food, the girls made the trek back home and then it was time for Alana‘s Date Night with Sugar Bear.

As the entire world wide web has discussed at one point or another, part of the Boo Boo Charm is the fact that they really all love each other and that…well…they’re real.

Since Dad Shugie works seven days a week plowing fields and harvesting chalk (…is anyone ever going tell me how they actually do this?…) he doesn’t get to spend enough time with his daughters.  Both the real one(s) and the almost real ones.

So Date Night was a big deal for both Alana and Sugar Bear.

Hearing him recall how Alana had taken his breath away when he first saw her as a baby did give me a slight fuzzy.  And luckily he didn’t spit a juicy wad of chew back up into that bottle he has on the dashboard and ruin the mood.

It was Destination: Fun Factory for Dad and Daughter, which was pretty much a Dave & Buster’s knock-off where you could roller-skate, slide, swing, eat and pinball yourself into a prize ticket seizure.

Alana was in Heaven.

Since neither of them are at risk of being drafted onto the Olympic skating team anytime soon, they both needed a little help on the rink.  After finally figuring out which foot got which disco roller-skate, Shugie and Alana wobbled out onto the slick floor grasping their training crutches.

Made out of Home Depot PVC piping, the contraptions were basically right angle bumper guards like you’d see in hotels to prevent the Help from plowing laundry carts into the wall as they take sharp turns while texting in a foreign language on the cellphones that they’re not supposed to be carrying in the first place.

But these had little wheels.  Like nursing home walkers with axels.

A few face plants and butt plops later, Alana scored a giant inflatable cartoon Thor hammer and they went home like conquering heroes.  Best.  Day.  Ever.


Now I don’t know if there’s a slow gas leak in the house, or it’s related to diesel train emissions, but for whatever reason the oldest girls have the worst time keeping their eyes open during daylight hours.

When they’re not eating, they’re rubbing their eyes or yawning and barely have the strength to break the seal on a fresh jug of cheese balls.

Add to that the seemingly never ending expectant Teen Mom energy drain, and Chickadee was almost catatonic as they all laid around the house discussing child birth.

It has always been pretty clear that Chickadee has no idea what is about to happen to her lady parts in a few weeks.  Now I’m really starting to wonder if she even knows how she ended up in this predicament in the first place.

To put it into perspective, Dr. Alana explained that Baby Kaitlyn was getting ready to come out of Chickadee’s Moon Pie.  I immediately swore off Moon Pies.

And Whoopie Pies, just to be safe.

Mama June then explained that some Moms uncontrollably Ooooo themselves during childbirth.  I immediately crossed “home birthing” off my Bucket List, since witnessing a pocket pig squeeze one out on the dining room table almost did me in last time.

By the time Dr. Alana assumed that you pull both the baby and your biscuit out during delivery, it was clear that nobody in the room actually had a freakin’ clue what was about to go down in Georgia.

So for a distraction, it was time to play “Guess Who’s Breath?”

Trust me.  You don’t need to read the rules.  The title is the rule.

The next time you’re struggling to keep your guests entertained, simply blindfold them and shoot a blast of yesterday’s warm cheese breath into their open mouth and nose holes and then let the hilarity ensue.

You just need to Hulu that scene, because I can’t do it justice.

Picture that Monday morning when you opened your school locker only to discover that you had left your egg salad sandwich inside a paper bag all weekend.  And your locker faces the window.  And it’s Springtime.

It was like that.  Except somebody ate it and then put their tongue waaaay too close to your front teeth.

There was actually so much hilarity ensuing that before they knew it, Chickadee left a little unintentional wet spot on the that gigantic furniture outlet microfiber couch.

Literally.  A spot.  And it was wet.

It would have been nice if someone had told June that the game was over before she mauled the animal markings and took a quick hit off her finger tips.

And you wonder why I walk in circles after the show is over.  Love.  Them.

The rest of the show was all drinkin’ and sellin’ and eatin’.

To raise some additional funds to support Alana’s glitz addiction, the Boo Boos all decided to set up an old skool lemonade stand.  Since Alana had outgrown both her cupcake dress and her old hair, this was going to be an expensive venture the next time the pageant bus rolled through town.  So every penny counted.

After scribbling out some poster board signing that reminded me of hotel picket lines when half the Help has been fired for laundry cart texting and the front desk guys refuse to pitch in and pick up the slack, June showed Alana how to concoct the ultimate, perfectly toxic Go-Go-Lemonade.

Five pounds of sugar.  Five.  And then some lemon juice.  And then some more sugar.

I know, right?

At 50 cents a cup, it’s definitely cheaper than the street value for pure crack but easily just as addictive.  So it was game on for the lemonade stand.

After a whole bunch of screaming and traffic stopping, they made $25 and basically paid for about five pounds of sugar and some lemon juice.

But it was quality time.

To celebrate the unexpected cash flow and a slow Roadkill Season, June whipped up a special treat for everyone.

It was Sketti Night!  Which is like Prince Spaghetti Night.

But it’s not.  It’s Sketti Night.

Sketti and Butter and Ketchup Night, actually.

It was DIY sauce time as June showed Alana the secret family recipe for seasoning sketti and clogging arteries.  Butter and Ketchup.  Nuked.

As whacked out as it may sound to some of you, there are actually hardcore Italian restaurants who serve the creation.  For real.  More people have heard of the recipe than you would imagine.  Half of them have probably had at least one surgery to insert a stent, but still…the recipe is popular.  And sometimes arteries just clear themselves, right?

Keeping up with those Italian tradition, June and Alana flung wet pasta at the cabinets to see if the meal was done.  Stick it and you can lick it.

(That’s what she said.  Booyeah!)

Something told me that this was not the first time that the Boo Boo kitchen had witnessed flying food.  I just had a feeling.

As of late, the dining room table seems to be reserved for craft projects and pig poo, because the Boo Boo Clan believes in eating their meals in whatever spot their butt happens to land.  Being a proud couch eater myself, I bow to their mastery of the craft.

There were plates and food and messes from corner to corner.  I’d hazard a guess and say that roughly 60% of Alana’s meal didn’t even make it into her mouth, which prompted June to admit that she isn’t exactly known around town as the Mom who forces proper etiquette on her children.

You think?

But that’s why I love the Boo Boos.

Any family who knows how to have that much fun is ok in my book.

So wash down that nasty Moon Pie with some leftover SugarBuzz lemonade and we’ll see you next time, mmmkay?

Pull my finger.

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo & Mom: Anderson Cooper Gets All Caught Up With Alana And June. And Still Has Time To Talk Crazy Tanning. Trifecta!!

Tuesday, September 11th, 2012

I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating.

Sometimes I love this stuff way too much.  Especially when the stars align just right and the Reality Gods start the week off by dropping a big one right on your head.

Today was one of those days.  And it was a little slice of Hot Mess Heaven.

Anderson Cooper kicked off Season 2 of his revamped Anderson Live in true Redneck Style, all highlighted with bronzer, innuendo and a whole lot of incoherence.

I mean, come on.  Does it get any better?

Considering the gossipy summer that our boy AC just endured, if your first new show starts out with “Oh, Anderson…you know you love the Slurpees,” then…well…you’re talking my kind of smack.  It was all the things I love in one sloppily wrapped package.

Anderson Cooper.  Honey Boo Boo Child.  Mama June.  Tan Mom.  Crazy faces.

Seriously.  Just pinch me.

With co-host Kristin Chenoweth all freshly revived from her recent on-set unconsciousness and ditzy as ever, Anderson mixed up a big glass of Go Go Juice and in his best none-CNN voice got us up to speed on Honey Boo Boo Child and all that delightful Redneckosity that we’ve been obsessing over since he last gave Pageant Moms the Pageant Treatment.

Because Alana had to scoot off to school (…I know, right? Yeah…she goes to school, people…) she and Mama June Shannon had to call this one in remotely, which pretty much guaranteed that little Boo Boo would blast off into SpazOrbit as soon as the camera monitor light flickered red.

And she did.

So not only were we distracted by Mom wearing makeup and a smokey eye (…take a moment to process that one if necessary, because she was rockin’ it…) but now we had Alana gettin’ all sassified on Skype while everyone in the studio tried to figure out what the F*** was in her OJ this morning.

Whatever it was, I want some.

To paraphrase Kristin…if you’re gonna be a Mess, be a good Mess.

Testify.  And Redneckognize yourself the power of Honey Boo Boo Child.

Since this was my lucky day, no sooner did we digest our Honey Boo Boo cereal than in wobbled UVA-List celeb Patricia “Tan Mom” Krentcil and her enabling husband, Rich.

I’m not even sure what happened after the introduction.  And neither was Anderson, who clearly has the best WTF face in all of television today.

Tan Mom rambled on and on about this and that and flipped her lengthy Jersey claws so close to Anderson’s face that I was afraid she would ruin his HD career in one nervous swipe.  String together a full sentence and spit it out, honey.

The ongoing legal battle over whether she did or did not take her daughter into the tanning bed all those many months ago is still in limbo.  But that hasn’t prevented Tan Mom from milking her 15 minutes like they were the last quarter hour on a tanning package about to expire at the end of the month.

She’s been everywhere lately.  Most infamously at a Drag Show where she fell down a couple hundred times and showed us that yes…she does indeed wear underwear and like her cocktails.  Allegedly.

Tanning, it seems, was just a hobby for Patty.  Much like scrapbooking or collecting butterflies or golf I guess, which allowed her to get out of the house and…then…well, people…it’s…they don’t…she…orange lights and it….I would never…painted facade…

Well, I’ll just let her explain.

Yeah.  What she said.

Insert your own WTF face right here ____________.

And then have a Slurpee on me.  You know you want one.

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