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

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: Umm. Duh. Even A Door Nut Knows That It’s Time For Redneck Christmas In July. Glitzy…It’s Like We Hardly Knew Ya.

Thursday, August 23rd, 2012

 

 

For the last time. It’s called Teacup piglet. Not Tranny piglet. I swear you people are just Pignorant.

 

 

 

 

Listen up, pig. The only squealing I wanna hear at 5:30 in the morning are my Baby Daddy’s Shugie Noogies.

 

 

 

 

 

OMG. It’s like totally Que Me Gusta Alana Shakira Telemundo Yo Quiero Taco Bell.

 

 

 

 

 

I mean, c’mon. What Santa isn’t gonna want some of this sliding down his chimney on a hot July afternoon?

 

 

 

 

 

Zzzzzzzzzz……

 

 

 

 

 

 

Girrrl, pleez. Clutch the Pearls & Swine. The other boys are never gonna believe this Fierce s***.

 

 

 

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.

My two front teeth…my two front teeth.

Or maybe even just one of them…I know times are tough.  And actually, one tooth would still leave a sweet little opening to poke in some chew when the mood strikes, and would be just enough space to eject it back out into my empty root beer bottle when I’m tooling down the highway.

Yeah.  Forget the song.  Make it one front tooth, Santa.

You can check one present off your 2012 Holiday list already, because TLC and the Boo Boo Clan just hand delivered us a gift that is gonna keep on giving for months to come.

Maybe even years, if you count therapy time into the equation.

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo celebrated a Redneck Christmas in July this week, and it was pretty much everything I could ever ask for all crumpled up into one big ball, tossed into a burlap bag and adorned with a John Deere green bow courtesy of the Kuntry Stoe.

I know, right?  That’s the name of a real general store.

Did you catch that in the first 2.5 seconds of the scene?  Right now there are so many inappropriate Backwood Hooker Skank jokes running through my head that I may just need to step away from the laptop for a second before I say something that will alert those office I.T. guys who keep track of dirty nasties on your ip address.

Kuntry Stoe.  Do the math.

As Momma Boo Boo June explained it, the annual Christmas in July Extravaganza was a family run event to raise money for a local charity.

Say what you will about the Boo Boos.  Love ’em or hate ’em (…and I looooove them…) but they really seem to have a lot of heart.  Granted, that heart is more than likely going to require the unclogging of at least two of the three coronary arteries if they continue down that dangerously narrowing cheese ball path they have chosen…but as of today, the heart still works and it wanted to help others in need.

Of course, the snarky side of me immediately asked why they don’t just give each of their neighbors 52 rolls of Brawny paper towels and a case of Mitchum roll-on and call it a day.  For a second I actually wondered if these less than fortunate people were only hurting because by the time they got out of work and made it down to the Piggly Wiggly, June had already cleared the shelves and there were no rations left for their own pantry.

Coupon Queen: 1  Less Fortunates: 0  Suck it.

But June makes me laugh, so I’ll let this one slide.

The event basically consisted of covering the Boo Boo front yard with every inflatable Christmas lawn decoration ever sold in that back garden part of Walmart after they run out of lawnmowers.  Now I finally know who buys all that shizzle.

There were Santas, snow globes, nutcrackers and enough 12 foot tall reindeers to make any kid pee his pants if he wasn’t emotionally prepared for the sight when glancing out that train window as it buzzed the Boo Boo garage.

Could that train come any closer to their property line?  I need to see the back of that garage, because I’ll bet you good money that it’s like an Acela train conductor tradition to hang your hand out the window as you blow by and stick a wad of gum on the roof shingles.  I just know it for some reason.

It came as no surprise that June and Sugar Bear were doing all the hard labor.  The three older girls are already national icons when it comes to shlubbing around the house.  If it don’t come in a snack bag, they ain’t picking it up.

Yeah.  Chickadee is preggo, though I’m guessing she wasn’t training for the McIntyre Half Marathon before she did the deed.  But she is knocked up, and it was 100 degrees out there, so Teen Mom scored a Get Out Of Mayberry Jail Card.  This time.

Chubbs and Pumpkin on the other hand, were just dead weight.  Pun intended.

As Alana ran around hugging each inflatable as though she were using her pageant powers to give them life, Chickadee somehow managed to make a Lay-Z-Boy Santa recliner look like something you would stick to at your OB/GYN’s office.

The other two girls sweat it out, cramped it out, complained it out and swatted at gnats almost as quickly as they swat those stray BBQ chips that always fly out of the bag when you first tear it open.

Seriously.  Those girls could snatch a flying bullet mid-air if it had mustard on it.

Then it was off to practice for the Rock Wear portion of Alana’s upcoming pageant.

As you’ll remember last time, June and Alana had hit up the Deevas Dance Studio to get some pointers on a new Elvis routine that they could unleash on the judges.

Beautimous Amanda Carter had taken time from her busy schedule of bleach striping her hair and testing out all the Avon Fall 2012 lip smear colors to design a few pelvic thrusts for Alana.  She apparently also hootched…I mean, hooked…up Alana with a Deevas branded version of those I ♥ PINK sweatpants with the logo on the butt.

How is it possible that not one person ever knows their own true size when they buy those stupid pants?  Because that’s how it all starts.

Then before you know it…UGG boots.

Thanks, Amanda.  I’d kiss you, but you know…the whole lip thing.

Unfortunately, Alana was having a hard time remembering it all during rehearsal.  Since I spent way more time being distracted by the studio and the new Fall colors than I did watching the original lesson last week, I’m not sure if the moves were too difficult or if it was just the hot Santa sun.

But either way, Alana had a little dramatic Deevas Moment and laid on the stage like tomorrow’s dinner on the highway.  Except roadkill doesn’t have Helvetic font on its a**.

Now I don’t know if it was due to the hot sun, or the excitement of Christmas in July, or head trauma from laying on the stage floor, or what…but for some reason Alana was suddenly gifted with the power to speak Spanglish.

de veras!

(Google it.  It’ll be fun, and will kill some time at work.)

It wasn’t quite Ricky Martin Spanglish.  Or even Charo on the Love Boat Cuchi-Cuchi Spanglish.

Think more of a Beverly Hills Housewife finding out that her Valley Girl daughter had slept with the gardener and the cowboy who was in town for a Rodeo Benefit while they were on a road trip to Georgia.

Then just slop that all up into a half-price burrito with a double coupon, and somehow when Alana said “OMG. Oh My Door Nuts” it all made sense.

At least in my world.

Plus the Door Nuts reminded me of a Redneck joke about Deer Nuts.  Wanna hear it?

Q. What’s the difference between Beer Nuts and Deer Nuts?

A. Beer Nuts cost $1.75…Deer Nuts are under a Buck.

Get it?  Under a Buck.  Like a boy deer.

Hilarity.

Now if Glitzy the Pig wasn’t squealing all night you could go to bed and ponder that last paragraph while realizing that you’ll never get that time back.

Again, whether due to the heat, the excitement or general pageant pig gender confusion, Glitzy had been keeping the Boo Boo household up all night for snacks.  And then repeating the whole process again at ButtCrack A.M. for his sunrise feedings.

June don’t play dat.  Girlfriend needs her beauty sleep.

Alana loved that pig and considered it her lucky charm to win the upcoming pageant.  She loved it like a family member.  Maybe even more than some of her family.

But keeping a pig in a baby crib in a house with one bathroom and two converging Acela trains just wasn’t working out.  You know it’s bad when it turns out that the pig is louder than the rush hour commuter rail.

So as much as June hated to do it…Glitzy had to go.

Which meant a family meeting where she and Sugar Bear could break the news to Alana and the girls.

After Chubbs, Chickadee and Pumpkin high-fived each other with the realization that there would now be more food for them to snarf down, Alana cried and it got really sad.

And really slow motion.  Like a Lifetime movie almost.

With one of those songs that always plays on General Hospital when they’re just about to pull the plug on Jason Morgan and his brain tumor lilting through the Boo Boo house, Sugar Bear picked up Glitzy in slo-mo and handed him to Alana for one last raspberry kiss.

Then he scooped up the poor little gay pig and left through the front door, where I actually expected to find Jane Seymour standing with open, welcoming pig arms since the bitch is in every Lifetime movie ever made.

But no Jane.

And now, no more Glitzy.

After a quick Kleenex dab to my eyes, it was off to the Mud Bog!

Family friend Crazy Tony and his platoon of crazy 4 wheeling buddies all came to the aid of sad Alana.  And nothing cheers up a kid like getting dirty.

Mud Boggin’.  Tubin’.  Face plantin’ in the ditch.  It was a Redneckified day at the amusement park, complete with the opportunity for the boys to drag June on her muddy booty backwards down a hill towards the water like marine biologists do when a whale can’t breath.

And then it was finally time for Santa!

Sugar Bear, for whatever reason, had a stock pile of three Santa suits to choose from as he dressed in the Boo Boo Boudoir.  As June lay seductively on the bed, he exposed all his whiteness and almost burnt out the contrast options on my television.

How do I explain this one?  Let me think….

How many of you have ever tried to watch bootleg porn that wasn’t properly calibrated for the type of monitor screen you were using?  And the picture gets stretched out so much that all the porno actors look fat and appear to be rolling around the bed more so than getting busy?

Anyone?  Show of hands?  Come on.  You can tell me.

Well.  It was pretty much just like that as Sugar Bear stripped down and June hoisted her goods up on the bedspread and made some kind of tongue flap thing happen in her mouth.

If you think finding out the truth about Santa could scar you…try that one on for size.

Unfortunately, the mood was ruined by June’s realization that the bedspread was covered in toenail clippings.

I’ll wait while you process that one.

Not gonna lie.  As much as I should have been horrified, I was more mesmerized with the concept that one of the girls would actually take the time to stop gobbling cheese balls, get off the couch, go to the bathroom, find the nail clippers in what you know has to be a big hot mess of a vanity drawer and then go all the way into their parents’ bedroom just for a pedicure.

Maybe it’s just me, but that whole scenario just seems like a lot of work for three girls best known for striving to achieve the opposite of a lot of work.

Quick flip of the nails onto the rug and it was good as new.

Christmas in July was a success, for the 12 kids who showed.  From what I gathered, if you brought a can of StarKist you got to sit on Sugar Bear’s lap in 100 degree humidity.

In a Santa suit that smelled like the opposite of Beer Nuts.

But it was for a good cause.  A little creepy.  But a good cause.

Gah…I love these Boo Boos.

Right as we were about to bid a fond Y’all Come Back Now, Chickadee went and cramped up on us.  Big time.

Teen Mom is only 34 weeks out in her pregnancy, so the last thing anyone wanted was a preemie baby on a hot summer night.  I mean, they just got rid of the pig.  Is one night of sleep too much to ask?

One call to 911 and a couple of 14 year old EMTs were on the scene escorting Chickadee, and all her drama, out the door.  One kid looked pissed that he had to stop his video game in the middle to drive out to Casa Boo Boo, but duty called.

As the ambulance laid a patch of gravel, June and Chickadee were off to the hospital, leaving a smelly Santa and a pageant princess in the dust.

OMG.  It’s like totally to be el continuedo.  Mucho continuedo.

We miss you already, Glitzy.

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: That’s Right. You’d Better Redneckognize How Beautimous Life In The Country Is For Pageant Princess Alana. Holla!

Thursday, August 16th, 2012

 

 

It’s so much better than sex. You get way more than one person will ever need…and they double bag it so it never breaks open in your back seat.

 

 

 

All I know is this family eats and talks a lot of Biscuits.

 

 

 

 

OMG. Enough mustard for a small country? I literally just Oooo’d myself right here in the condiment aisle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Redneck Clean-up. Aisle 4. Bring a mop.

 

 

 

 

 

You know how the old saying goes. Chew on the Nips…a Lifetime on the Hips. Or sumthin…

 

 

 

 

Pthffffft. Hot Dogs are ready, girls.

 

 

 

 

 

Hold on.

I just need to undo the top button on my pants and catch my breath.

It’s true, you know.  What they say.

The second date is almost always better than the first.  You’ve already been introduced, gotten to know each other a little better and can now let your guard down and be yourself.  You can leak a few family secrets, or maybe even leak a few bodily functions.

Just don’t get too comfortable too soon unless you’re prepared for some seriously jaw-dropping moments that could potentially scar both your retinas and your plasma screen.

And never go past second base or show your Forklift Toe until at least the third date.

That’s right.  Here Comes Honey Boo Boo was back for a second round of Redneckosity and…love ’em or hate ’em…the relationship definitely got a little more intimate.

Personally, I love me some Boo Boo.  I don’t know why.  I just do.

Probably for the same reason that I keep going to Walmart even though I don’t need anything in the store.  It’s cheaper than Six Flags, the snacks are better and you come away with enough memories and emotional scars to last a lifetime.

Anyway.  Now that we all had a week or so to digest both their lifestyle, and the equivalent of a military surplus plane’s cargo drop of cheese balls, it was time to get down and dirty with Alana Thompson and her backwood crazy a** family.

And not just in the mud.

Mom June Shannon, best known for her substantial girth and her equally balanced mirth, is also pretty dadgummed famous for being Reality TV’s Coupon Queen.

And this week we got to see how the Pros do it when all the Boo Boo Girls (…didn’t they just perform at the Olympic Closing Cermonies?…) hit up the local Piggly Wiggly to count and clip their way into a coupon frenzy.  As Mom explained, the Coupon EX-Games are like sex, only better.  Way better.

Proudly cheap, and already fully stocked with enough free toilet paper to wipe the Too-Tay of every resident in her town through 2018, June grabbed her wad of Sunday clippings and entered the store like a chubby gladiator going into battle.  If the Piggly doors weren’t already automatic sliders I’ll bet you anything they would have parted like the Red Sea regardless.

June had arrived, and Piggly Wiggly stock took a 21 point dip before she even got Alana behind the shopping cart.  It was on.

Like watching Schoolhouse Rock on a television with tin foil on the bunny ears, we witnessed the distribution of nutritional fun facts, the demonstrating of questionable mathematic skills and the kind of pre-planned attack that is usually reserved for storming third world countries as June quizzed Alana on every purchase before dumping 42 boxes of whatever into the cart.

Girlfriend knows her shizzle.

I hate Ramen noodles.  But for free?  Hell, yeah those 10 boxes would be coming home with Daddy.

Pumpkin on the other hand, was not quite as captivated by Mom’s coupon magic act and instead took to standing in an empty shopping cart pretending she was one of the Pussycat Dolls at the Macy’s Parade until  both she and the float missed that turn on 34th Street and dumped backwards into the kettle chip display.

The first WTF Moment of the episode (…don’t even try to count them all…) came when a container of Rust Remover was discovered in the cleaning aisle.  By itself, the item didn’t warrant a coupon or an informercial, but when it was discovered that the product could remove Mom’s neck crust…well…that was a game changer.

Shout out to the trigger fingered TLC cameraman who managed to zoom in on June’s donut neck for the freeze framed close-up shot so quickly that no one in America had time to look away.  Think of your home siding after you’ve spent all afternoon power-washing in the hot sun, and then you lift up one strip of vinyl and find all the woogies that have been there since you closed on the house 42 years ago.

Yeah.  Neck crust.

Sunday I am going to church to light a candle and thank the Lord that nobody found a bottle of Draino, and move on to the next subject.

Since Teen Mom Chickadee was about to pop out another Boo Boo, everyone was in full on Baby Shower mode.  Mom and Alana were painting up those wooden letters you buy at Michael’s to spell out Kaitlyn Elizabeth‘s name while Glitzy the Pig sniffed and snuffed all over the bed.

As you’ll recall, through the magic of strip mall ultrasound, everyone had already seen little Kaitlyn’s Bisquit, so they knew in advance that it was going to be a girl.  Besides offering convenient curb side parking and determining the sex of the child, the ultrasound tech had also managed to ruin any chance I have of ever enjoying strawberry shortcake again without throwing up in my mouth a little.

While we’re still on the subject, I’m also going to assume that if you don’t see a Bisquit during the ultrasound, you must see the Pillsbury Doughboy staring back at you like someone trapped on the Other Side of a Poltergeist television set.

Help Me.

Arts & Crafts always makes everyone over heat, so the gang headed outside for some Redneck Water Slide action.  (Six Flags…are you listening?  That’s two things more fun than you already.)

Since Dad Sugar Bear was off flooding the cranberry chalk bog (…will someone please tell me how they mine chalk and what that even means…) the Boo Boo Girls all hosed down a conveniently located plastic tarp, oiled it up with either soap or dish detergent or WD-40 and got their bootleg Six Flags slide on.

You ever try to cook Thanksgiving dinner and completely loose your grip on the bird and can’t figure out how to pick it back up off the kitchen floor?  The more you grab for it, the slimier it gets until it shoots into the living room or out the front door?

It was like that.

I love these guys.

But since Alana is first and foremost a Pageant Princess and not a holiday tradition, it was time to practice.  And where does a mini diva go to learn how to shake and spread her legs like Elvis?  (Elvis the Singer, not Elvis the Elf.  Alana was a little foggy on that one.)

Deevas Dance Studio.  Der.

Looking exactly like the place you used to stop at on the highway when you were little to buy Indian moccasins and whatever those tambourine-looking spirit wind catchers were called, Deevas was all pine knots and booty pops.

Run by Amanda Carter, who is apparently a big deal in the pageant/wind catcher world, the studio was June’s first choice to choreograph Alana’s new Rock & Roll routine.

Remember that girl in high school who tried to frost her own ‘do on a lonely Friday night and pulled too much hair through the cap?  And then she ended up with giant slabs of bleached out stripes all over the place and tried to pass it off as something she saw in Cosmo?

And then she went to the Mall on the day that Lancôme had their Big City cosmetologist at the counter and got made up like she was going to Mardi Gras but then just wore the makeup all day and tried to pass it off as something she saw in Vogue?

And then she put a plastic bag over her head so she didn’t mess up all that hard work and then somehow managed to pull a pink t-shirt on over her head like Celine Dion does backstage at Vegas without getting any lipstick on her teeth?

Brown lipstick, I believe.

Remember her?  No reason.  Just asking.

Deevas.  It was Beautimous.

After ingesting enough cheese balls to feed most of Asia last week, Mom and the girls had decided to go on a diet and it now was time for the week #3 progress report.

If you took The Biggest Loser and filmed it in a barn, you pretty much got what went down on Weigh In Day as the Boo Boo Girls each stepped up for the tally.  Chubbs and June both lost a few pounds, while Pumpkin somehow mystically absorbed their fat molecules from across the room.  It may have had less to do with magic and more to do with her constant mouthful of anything that didn’t move in the house, but regardless, she was going in the wrong direction.

To balance out the Boo Universe, as Chubbs was sucking in fat, Glitzy the Pig decided to toot some out and began leaving a trail of piglet poo all over the dining room table.

Yeah.  I said dining room table.  Like the one you eat off of when you’re not snacking on stray cheese balls in the couch cushions.

Now as any good Toddlers & Tiaras expert knows, when a little princess suddenly has to go wee right before she goes on stage, it’s the Mom or Dad’s job to pick her up and run through the ballroom like she’s a ticking ACME bomb about to go off in the Coyote’s face.

But for some reason when a teacup pig has to make a doodie, everyone just gathers around and watches like a butterfly is somehow going to emerge from that fuzzy cocoon.

I dunno.  All I know is that I’m never eating at their house, no matter how much they beg me to come over.  A sexually ambiguous boy pig wearing a dress shouldn’t be dropping his stuff all over the table.  That’s where I draw the line.

Luckily they had 783 rolls of Brawny on hand to sop up the oink doink, and still managed to get to the baby shower on time, where the highlight was June and Sugar Bear doing that baby bottle chugging contest everyone always does at Teen Mom baby showers.

If it was good enough to get you knocked up, it’s good enough for a party game, I guess.

As 5 year old cousin Bryan looked on in disbelief, June managed to bite the end of the nipple right off the bottle, swallow it whole and then spew up whatever they were chugging all over the opposite wall.

Yeah.  The opposite wall.

Speaking of power-washing.  She’s a keeper.

No wonder Shugie has been with her for 8 years.  Unmarried years.  Sorry.  Spoiler Alert.

To prep for the upcoming pageant and their first ever anniversary/date night, June next took the girls to a local day spa for some facials and foot stuff.

You need to find time to watch the reaction of the salon girl who kept coming on camera looking as though she had just heard the truth about Santa Claus.

Call in sick.  Or quit your job, it’s that good.  Just watch it.  Over and over.

She was all like…umm…ahh…yeah.  They were…it…she was.  And I’ve never…they were…their personalities.  Umm.  I can’t feel the left side of my face and my vision is kinda blurry.  Is that you, Grandma?  I’m coming.

By the time it was revealed that June had a gnarly toe due to a warehouse forklift accident I almost blacked out.

Seriously.  If we get some new foot fact every week I’m going to have to be sedated.

(Remember, last week on T&T we found out that gay Uncle Poodle was completely missing one toe due to a lawnmower or ninja attack or something.)

I need to know how much they pay those mani/pedi techs…because it ain’t enough.  Not even close.

Date night at Crockett’s Cafeteria was a hoot.  How Sugar Bear can keep a wad of chewing tobacco on his face all day and never notice is beyond me, but he did.  There was enough syrup and sauce and chew juice dripping on that table to raise the humidity outside a few degrees, but it was clear they loved each other and even leaned in to either steal a kiss or lap up some goo.

Romance is alive in McIntyre.

We finished off our second week with the Boo Boos with a visit to Lucy Lu’s Boutique to pick out a new pageant dress for Alana.  Seems that all the free food doesn’t come with free calories because she no longer fit in her old pink Anderson Cooper Show dress.

Owner Lacey Jowers gave us an impromptu lesson on how you create a pageant dress, which was not as captivating as the History Channel’s story on how they built the Statue of Liberty, but still kind of fun to watch.  I really liked her.

I didn’t realize how they start out with a boring dress and then build it bigger and better like you would do with LEGOs when you make a rocket ship.  Except they use special “Sparkle, Baby” Swarovski LEGOs and it requires sticking the kid with Project Runway needles every time she takes a breath.

To reward Glitzy for taking a dump on the dining room table, Lacey Lu Whoo agreed to make a mini version of Alana’s dress that the confused piglet could wear on next season’s RuPaul’s Drag Race.

You better Work, pig.

By the time Glitzy left squealing and wee weeing all the way home, Lacey pretty much stabbed herself in the eye to make it be over.

And then it was.

Y’all come back now.

 

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo: Alana Is Back And She Done Brung Her Family With Her! Get Ready For Some Mud Splashing, Glitzy Pig Squealing Fun!

Thursday, August 9th, 2012

 

 

That’s right, bitches. I’m back. And you’re gonna need a jug of Honey Booze Booze to wash down all of this Redneckosity!

 

 

 

OMG! Triple bonus coupons on Brawny, right when I was down to my last 423 rolls of paper towels.

 

 

 

 

I don’t need no manners. The smell of pigs feet and my Rubbermaid hat bring all the boys to the yard, thank you.

 

 

 

 

Everyone hit me up in the chatrooms as soon as I posted that I do Mud Facials and Cheese Balls. What’s up widdat?

 

 

 

Seriously. I work seven days a week and I still have to go out and hit me some dinner every night? That’s messed up.

 

 

 

I don’t even know where babies come from, but check out that TV! If you get knocked up you get free cable! Score!

 

 

 

 

Sheeeoooot.

I love me some Honey Boo Boo Child.

There.  I said it.  I own it.  And now I can’t take it back.

Being, at least in my own head, the blogosphere’s authority on All Things Reality I get to watch some fine hot messes just so I can report back to all of you.  And sometimes when I have to pass all the juicies along, I have to make something out of nothing if the show is not up to my exceptionally high standards.

Pimpin’…and bloggin’…ain’t easy.

But then at other times, the Gods of Reality simply dump a bucket of pigs feet and television magic on my head and it just happens.

This is one of those moments.

Ladies and Gentlemen.  Rednecks and Etiquettes.

I give you Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

After months of nervous hand wringing and coupon clipping, the most recent undisputed Toddlers & Tiaras breakout star finally plopped out onto our television screens this week like a newborn baby calf, all covered in a gooey coating of cheese ball dust and bat s*** crazy.  And the World is now either a better place for it, or is frantically spinning towards the end of civilization as we know it.

That one is up to you to decide, because the internet arguments will undoubtedly drag on longer than Huntin’ Season, and I’m just here to report the deets as I see ’em…with perhaps a few questionable embellishments if I deem them necessary.

But you already know how I roll.  So let’s do this.

Alana Thompson, the 6 year old pageant firecracker, still likes to Holla for a Dolla and win moneeeeey.  There’s no doubt about that.  But now she is taking us on a behind the scenes view of what really goes down in her Georgia hometown.  And there is Reality TV gold in them thar hills, along with a made to order sitcom family right out of Central Casting.

They’re real, and they don’t make no excuses about it, which is why I love ’em.  They don’t care if we like them.  They don’t care if we hate them.  They just want to be left alone to do their extreme couponing, win pageants and do Redneck stuff.

Mom June is still big, loud, proud and thrifty.  Fame has in no way diminished her desire to scarf up every multi-pack of toilet paper and 2-ply Brawny within the city limits, all at a considerable discount by the way, and display them like the biodegradable equivalent of Precious Moments figurines on approximately 8 linear miles of plastic Home Depot shelving.

Fame has also in no way diminished her desire to hold in any bodily functions, regardless of their point of origin.

Burps, honks, toots, farts and Super Sneezes were all seamlessly integrated into pretty much every one of her conversations.  If you can look past the stigma that society usually puts on letting one rip during a television interview or Target run, it really is almost an art form.

This week was a Meet & Greet of sorts, so we could all get to know and love the Family, who are all packed into a house that looked to be wedged less than 6 inches from the train tracks.  I don’t even know how that one got past the Zoning Board, but I bet property taxes are about $15.34 a year if you round up.

Imagine living near an airport where the plane actually lands on your roof, and then inside are 5 women and 1 man (…who could really use his own flipper, by the way…) all fighting over one bathroom.  In the first 3 minutes of the show you didn’t need a NASA degree to figure out why they were all so loud and why everyone chose to wash their hair and road kill in the kitchen sink.  I only hope they don’t multi-task when they’re under a time crunch, because venison is stringy enough fresh off the highway.

Dad Mike, aka “Sugar Bear,” works seven days a week mining chalk.  I have no clue how you do that, or whether it’s done in a chalk mine or harvested off trees in the Fall, but whatever it is…he does it.  And he does it non-stop apparently, so Georgia must be the Chalk State or something.  I’m a little fuzzy on some of my 7th grade Social Studies, so I apologize in advance on that one.

Sugar Bear never actually said it, but I bet that getting out of that Amtrak station once in awhile probably makes him smile a big, spacious jack-o-lantern smile, so I’d be curious to actually see his time card.

There are also three gum poppin’, mud sloppin’ sisters hanging around the house, and you didn’t need that degree or a DNA swab to know they all fell off the same turnip truck.

(Side note.  Apparently, you also didn’t need to know English to watch this show, because approximately 98% of the production was subtitled as though I had just tuned into Spanish HBO.  Granted, they all talk in a southern drawl with a mouth full of snacks, but I think I can make out what they’re saying on my own.  If I wanted a foreign art film I probably wouldn’t be hitting up Honey Boo Boo on a Wednesday night.  But thanks, anyway.)

Lauryn (“Pumpkin“) was the crazy pig feet bobber in the family, and proudly proclaimed that she was pretty much born without manners.  Jessica (“Chubbs“) could cram enough cheese balls in her mouth to warrant a call to the Guinness World Record people all while wondering how she got her nickname.  Anna (“Chickadee“) was the 17 year old pregnant teen in the family, since according to MTV everyone in Georgia should have at least one.

Taking into consideration that Anna is 17 and Mom is only 32, you didn’t really need a calculator to figure that one out.  You actually didn’t even need all your fingers and toes.  At one point between toots and sneezes, June commented on how proud she was of Anna for staying in school until she popped.

As if on cue, a few scenes later Anna then showed off that high school edukashun by not knowing what an “abdomen” was…so…umm…yeah.

The first family trip was to the Redneck Games down the road a bit, and June hit the barn nail on the head when she warned us that there were some “broke down” people in that town.

Ok.  Broke Down is one thing.  But not even an Emergency Broadcast System scroll across the bottom of the screen would have prepared me for some of the Vajiggle Jaggle that Georgia unleashed at the Games.  When Mama Boo Boo said some blub would be eating some bikinis up, Girlfriend wasn’t lying.

You know how when you make an omelet and you toss in some ingredients and then watch them slowly soak down into the warm cheese until they completely disappear from sight?

Yeah.  It was like that.  Except your oven doesn’t get as hot as the Georgia sun.  Or as moist.  Now try to get that visual out of your head.

You’re welcome.

Pumpkin bobbed for pigs feet in one of those big plastic bins that you store your Christmas decorations in while Chubbs and Alana belly flopped in the mudbog.  They didn’t win the mud prize unfortunately, most likely because they couldn’t hold a beer and belly flop at the same time like one Vajiggler did.

Again.  An art form.

There was also a brief moment when June proved that she’s Sexy and She Knows It by booty grinding up against some Redneck cowboy butt just long enough to burn my retinas, and my tears burned like a midnight cheese ball toot.

Back home at the train station, everyone gathered around the world’s largest cup holder couch to shovel down even more cheese balls and talk about how fat they were getting.

Seriously.  More?  Is there like a secret cheese ball room somewhere that we are not privy to yet?  Do we get to see it during the final episode or something?

I swear, it was literally the kind of endless supply that Feed The Children should be dropping out of planes somewhere.  They were so busy passing around the industrial vat of round puffs that they never even noticed a train conductor walk through the house and steal a 6 pack of toilet paper for the ride home.

Between fistfuls of the magic cheese confection, everyone complained about how fat they were getting and then had a cattle auction weigh-in.  Then they went back to the cheese balls.

Since Alana is still a pageant princess under all that yellow dust, everyone hit up a Natural Faces practice competition to get her revved up for the next big glitz show.

Unfortunatley, Alana lost again, and went home with nothing.  And losing at a practice competition that pretty much awards the winner with a bag full of nothing has got to suck.

But luckily, nothing cures the blues like a teacup piglet with a manicure, right?

Move over all you Reality TV pocket sissy dogs, because Glitzy the Piggy has arrived.

Dad swung by Posh Pigs, which is some kind of pork store apparently owned and operated by a former Spice Girl, and snagged a little squealer for Alana.

And believe me, if anyone or anything is capable of drowning out the roar of those trains, it’s Glitzy, because that little piggie went wee wee wee from the minute he left the store right up until he made my ears bleed and then blacked out from piglet exhaustion.

Posh Spice had hooked him up with some purple and green pig nail polish too, so watching a piglet question his own sexuality was a nice touch.  Alana was going to dress that little boy piggy up like a pageant girl until he chewed his own pork rinds off, or died trying.

One of the talking points when Alana lost at the Natural Faces pageant was her refinement and polish (…go figure…) so Mom had hired an etiquette specialist to jump off a box car and swing by the house for a training session.

Barbara Hickey, from the Etiquette School of Atlanta (…who is now most likely in secluded rehab somewhere far away strapped to her bed with restraints…) drew the short straw and arrived with her laminated Miss Manners presentation boards to put Alana and Pumpkin through a quick bootcamp.

In hindsight, Mrs. Hickey should have bolted as soon as she made eye contact with the pig.  But people with manners don’t bolt unless there’s no caviar.  So she mustered up enough strength to enter the Coupon Queen Paper Towel Restaurant and attempted to show the girls how to eat with utensils.

Watching someone with manners slowly deteriorate into a mere shell of their former self, complete with back sweat and the kind of fake smile you use when meeting old classmates at reunions, was delightful.  By the time Pumpkin asked if it was rude to pass gas at the dinner table, Mrs. Hickey would have thrown herself through the glass window pane if all those F***ing paper towels weren’t blocking her exit.

As the dust from Mrs. Hickey’s tire spin out was dissipating, Mom and Alana hit up the local H&H Auction to bid on some past expiration bundt cake and home goods.  You have no idea how much I loved this show right around this point.

It was basically held in one of those armory looking places where they always lay out all the belongings after they empty a house on Hoarders Buried Alive.  I need to go there.

Honey Boo Boo Premiere Week ended with a quick trip to the strip mall ultra sound store.  No lie.

A couple of goo squirts on Anna’s belly and the world got to see the future Kaitlyn Elizabeth staring back at us in horror.  I’m pretty sure the fetus was even holding a post-it note that said “I’ll stay in here, thank you.”

And since you never know when a pageant judge is going to ask you where babies come from, we finished off the evening learning way more than anyone should ever know about southern hospitality and Poppin’ Fresh biscuits.

Whacking them on the counter will never be the same.

And neither will Reality TV as we know it.

Because Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

Love ’em or hate ’em, they’re here to stay.

And I love ’em.

Holla.


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