Posts Tagged ‘reality tv’

Toddlers & Tiaras: Pop It. Lock It. And Lose It. The Hollywood Starz Hip Hop Pageant Is Da Bomb. Just Ask Thalya.

Saturday, October 12th, 2013




Dude. I gotta tell you. These pixie stix are way better than any of that s*** we had in the ’60s. I’m still straight buzzin’.






I had no idea that African cheetahs invented Hip Hop either. But look who’s wearing a crown now, honey.






They’re lucky my blood sugar is low or I’d go right back inside and get all Jerry Springer on someone’s a**.







Like what you see, ladies? Wait ’til they start cranking some Eminem. Trust me…the bus ain’t the only thing super-sized.






Seriously. These bitches are trippin’ harder than we ever did at Woodstock.







Imma big stinkin’ 24 year old woman who’s been sniffing hair spray all day. You really wanna do this right now?






The whole day was rather uneventful until my hair lady lost it and the Tiara Twins’ bus driver took his pants off.







She needed much bigger hair, but I’m not saying a thing. You saw that chick in the parking lot. She’d f*** me up.




I think MC Hammer said it best.

“I’ve toured around the world, from London to the Bay

It’s Glamour, Go Glamour.  Toddler Glamour.  Yo, Glamour.

And the rest can go and play.  Break it down.  

Stop.  It’s Glamour Time.”

Dat’s rite.  Listen to these dope beatz and learn how it all went down in Jersey, yo.

Toddlers & Tiaras was mixing it like a DJ and scratching it like they had a bad rash this week, all courtesy of the Hollywood Starz Hip Hop Pageant.  Because we all know there’s nothing a preschooler likes more than glitter and gangstah rap.

Held in picturesque Fairfield NJ, the competition was (…Spoiler Alert!…) only a short Path Train ride or a 2 day walk in traffic with no water back to New Yawk City.  And it was gonna bring out the confidence and swag in every contestant.

At least that was the plan as Director Jonel Stanek laid it all out for us.

Of all the Pageant Directors that have graced the T&T screen over the years, Jonel was definitely one of the most low key and normal.  Very nice and polite, but unfortunately she barely even ticked the CrazyMeter.  I was not happy.

I mean, if my girl Tonya Bailey can rock a Swarovski eye patch on Pirate Day and lick a Rainbow Bright lollipop like a porn star on whatever day that was that she licked the Rainbow Bright lollipop, not to mention my other girl Annette Hill backing dat thang up on MotownDay, the least Jonel could have done was pop in a grill or something.

It’s Hip Hop, fercryinoutloud.  If she didn’t want to stick anything in her mouth, she could have rocked a Flava Flav clock around her neck or something.  You can buy them at Bed Bath & Beyond for next to nothing if you use that coupon they’ve been sending me in the mail every seven days for the last four years.

When it was all said and done, Jonel didn’t really tell us anything that we hadn’t already read in TV Guide at the grocery store.  But at least she got to show off her new green one shouldered Wilma Flintstone dress.  So there was that.


Our first little princess was 5 year old Devin and her Mom Darci.  They were full of peace and love.  And probably feeling pretty groovy, too.

Mom and Dad Kevin were hippies.  Or used to be, anyway.  I’m not sure if you can still legitimately be a hippie in 2013 or not.  I should research that.

At first I thought that Devin’s older sister Cassidy was pulling our legs when she said that her parents were former Love Children, even though I could totally picture Mom falling out of a VW van on the side of the road somewhere.  And even though they did have an unusually large assortment of hula hoops scattered around the front yard, that doesn’t necessarily mean you grew your own in the basement of your parents’ house.

But then Mom took the whole gang down to the art studio to work on props for Devin’s Hip Hop routine and some of her ’60s fumes started to leak out from under the door.

Like when she explained that pageants were really just performance art and then went on to explain how African cheetahs somehow jumped a boat to America and ended up creating the Def Jam record label.  Like Planet of the Apes, but with more bling.

I swear the paint fumes were literally coming through my television.

And then Dad showed up out of nowhere, all tie dyed and hair going every which way like that Back to the Future guy.

Poor Dad.  Loved him.  But he didn’t get it.  I don’t think he even know where he was while he was talking to the cameras.  Because he’s just the Dad.  And then he disappeared back under the table and I decided that I needed to be his new best friend asap.

Mom was a body and face artist, which meant that she painted people head to toe like they do at MAC Cosmetic counters during new product launches (…I still don’t know why anyone needs to wear eye shadow on their junk, but whatever…) and was planning on covering Devin in cheetah spots before sticking her in a cage and shipping her off to America to invent rap.

That whole family shops at Whole Foods.  You know they do.

The second contestant arrived in a cloud of diesel fumes as 5 year old Adrianna and Mom Jennifer introduced us to their biker family.  Hogs.  Harleys.  Hip Hop.


Adrianna was one of those blonde cuties who couldn’t keep her tongue in her mouth, but will hopefully grow out of that phase before she hits middle school because the world really doesn’t need another Miley Cyrus right now.

I really liked her and could tell she’ll be a looker when she grows up.  Which is no big deal, because her Dad Aaron was such a biker dude that he’ll crack the skull of any boy who even looks at his daughter’s Facebook page.

Dad is so out of his element with pageants that he fits right in, if that makes any sense.  I love Dads that support their kids.

You could tell they are all a total panic at family cookouts. Invite me next time, please.

But if you were really looking for a party, you needed to drop by 5 year old Malina‘s house for Indian food and trash talk.  Because that’s where Dad Harry and Godmother Thalya were going a few rounds.

Or ten.  Or twenty.

Fat jokes.  Mustache jokes.  Beard jokes.  OhNoYouDin’t.

Harry was one of those big guys you see at the mall with a chin strap goatee and about 5 pounds of gel stylin’ up 1 pound of hair.  Because you never know when the wind might kick up and you need to look fly for your lady friends.  A’ight?

Thalya was one of those big girls you see at the mall with mismatched sweats and a death grip on her cell phone.  Because you never know when you might get a text asking “Where You At, Girl?” and you know reception sucks in the Food Court.  ‘kay?

Malina, on the other hand, was a straight up Bollywood Bratz doll with big eyes and a tiny body.  Not a medical condition per se.  Just typical Little Kid Syndrome where you’re just waiting for the rest of your body to catch up to your head.  Been there.  Done that.

She was a hoot, all wide eyed and bug eyed and trying not to get in the middle of the whole Harry vs. Thalya Yo Mama Challenge.


Mom Lisa was also there, kinda, but she pretty much got trampled by Thalya every time she tried to break up a fight as Malina fine tuned her booty pop.

When Thalya finally blew her first major nutty of the episode (…Spoiler Alert #2…) and threw down with Harry in the kitchen about his constant joking and insults, it should probably be noted that the whole scene looked exactly like The Muppet Show with all those crazy jiggly arms going everywhere, wobbly boom mics unintentionally hanging in the camera shot and Dad galunking out of the scene just like Sweetums used to do when he was sad.

When Thalya wasn’t smacking her cell in the palm of her hand, she was going to be doing Malina’s hair and makeup on Pageant Day.  My psychic powers kicked in right about here and I predicted how this whole thing would end up playing out at the end.

Pageant prep wasn’t going any smoother for the other two nuggets, either.  Devin didn’t like to practice and had a super-sized meltdown due to a ‘problem in her brain’ which sounded like something that should have been addressed when she got her chicken pox vaccination.  She crawled under the table and stared at the wall for awhile.

Like Father, Like Daughter I guess.  Groovy, man.

Adrianna was having issues with the new one minute time limit on Beauty Walks, and was struggling to figure out how to cram an additional 30 seconds of finger kisses into the new ruling.  I know the feeling, sister.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And…Tiara Twins Time?

Seriously.  Are we sure that there are really only two of them?

Because these twins are freakin’ everywhere.

Every.  Where.

Even when they’re not the subject of an episode, these two smiley kids somehow manage to score some screen time.  I swear their PR department must be as big as that gigantic transport vehicle they try to hide in the barn, because at least once a week the two girls either make a cameo on T&T or casually walk behind Anderson Cooper right in the middle of his newscast.  Just because they can.


You remember the Twins.

Alycesaundra and Giavanna.  And Mom Kelly.  And Dad Ron.

They live on that farm that grows mud.  Or dirt.  I don’t know.  No one will tell me what secret thing they harvest twice a year so I have to make it up every time they are on TV.

The last time we saw Ron, he was getting his eyeball poked out by a peacock.  And the time before that he was dragging sheep and turkeys across the stage.  And the time before that, he was pulling his wife’s blouse up over her head so all of America could see her…umm…you know.

I already used “The Other Tiara Twins” joke last time, so I’m clearly running out of good jokes about bad boobs.  But we almost saw some stuff.

In widescreen HD.

This time Ron was dressed as a hip hop cop for some reason.  Momentarily anyway, before he stripped down to nothing but his sheer mantihose as Alycesaundra twerked herself off the edge of the stage.

Or at least I think it was Alycesaundra.  I’m still not very good at telling these two girls apart.  That, and that fact that my focus was elsewhere.  Pretty much at Alycesaundra’s height, but trust me…it was elsewhere.  Bow Chick A Tour Bus.

On a slightly more positive note, I can finally check off “See Ron Lyerly rub a police badge on his nibblies” from my Bucket List.

Anyway.  Back to this week’s kiddos.

Thalya blew her second nutty getting Malina ready for Beauty.  Nobody liked Bollywood Bratz’s hair and Thalya was getting cranky.  Dad was on her like I dunno what…and Girlfriend wasn’t having it.

Crazy Liza Minnelli doppelgänger judge Johnny Ray Browning was back for another pageant, being all Fierce in his Joan Rivers Five Easy Payments metallic scarf from QVC and uncomfortably touching that creepy Dateline soul patch a little too often.

Devin had this week’s Last Minute Emergency Pee Panic and had to be air lifted to the restroom ten seconds before she was supposed to be on stage.

Sorry kids, but my girl Paisley Dickey still owns the title of Biggest Pre-Show Pee Queen, so the rest of you can just go in your pants.  Save yourself some stress and don’t even try to steal that one from her if you know what’s good for you.


Or the cheese dip.  Or the boogers.  Cuz there’s only one PDickey in the hizzle, yo.

Go see her movie, though.  Love.  Her.

The Hip Hop portion of the show began with some Sassy Sistah in the audience taking iPhone photos with her brass knuckle cell case that pretty much said all that needed to be said.

The routines went from gender bending baggy shirts and saggy pants to hand painted cheetahs learning how to breakdance in captivity.

FYI…Judge JRB didn’t care for gender bending of any sort, which made me spit Diet Coke out my nose for so many reasons that I can’t even begin to list them right now.

He sure is Fabulous, though, isn’t he?

And then some kids won some stuff.  But not necessarily what they wanted to win.

Including Malina, who only pulled a Novice title.  Which was no big dealio until Dad blamed it on Thalya’s haircare.  Or lack thereof.


Thalya lost her marbles, grabbed her cell phone (…cuz you never know…) and stormed out of the building into the parking lot, screaming, swearing and checking texts the whole way as some poor winded TLC camera guy tried to keep up.

She was a big stinkin’ 24 year old woman, dammit.  A hard 24, maybe.  But still 24.

And just ’bout ready to pop off on someone as soon as she could get her hands on a frying pan, because Thalya don’t play.

Most of what she said was (bleeped) out, except for the parts where she kept talking about how hungry she was after slaving away all day on Malina’s losing hairstyle.

She was done.  She was over it. Nobody disses her mad skills.  Plus, she had munchies that were giving her a tight weave headache.

Thalya ended up abandoning everyone else in the building, leaving them to figure out how to get all their luggage and loser crowns back to NYC as she laid a patch of rubber on the pavement and gunned it for the nearest drive-thru.


Word to yo’ Pageant Mama.

You can’t touch this.


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

Wednesday, October 9th, 2013




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






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








OMG. Just…OMG.







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






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





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






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






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




Five.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.

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

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

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

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

Because it’s Broadway, baby.

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

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

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

Or at least the hard knocks part.

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

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


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

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

The theme:  Broadway.

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

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

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

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

Ever.  Even with the kids in the room.

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

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

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

It’s called Broadway, baby.

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

Poor misunderstood Jan.  Been there.  Done that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, it was Showtime!

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

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

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

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


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

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

Because it’s Broadway, bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

Sit down, Flashdance.  You’re drunk.

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

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

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

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

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


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

Yes, Robin.  Pussycat Dolls.  We remember.

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

The Bottom Three ended up being JoJo and the TBoyz.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


And then there were  Five.  Six.  Seven.


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

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013




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







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







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





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






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






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






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




Google it.

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

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

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

Unconventional?  Yes.

Boring?  Never.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And right in front of the kids.

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


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

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

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


The theme: Unconventional.

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

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

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

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

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

Umm.  Yeah.  Batman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

There was a lot of crying this week.

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

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

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

Girlfriend be buggin’.

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

Good luck with that, by the way.

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

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

That’s about all I could figure out.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, it was Showtime!

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then everybody started crying.

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

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

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

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

And then there were eight.



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