Posts Tagged ‘reality tv’

Mob Wives: It’s Homecomings And Hoes In Da House. There’s Definitely No Love Lost Here…Welcome Home!

Tuesday, February 26th, 2013



It’s was like I opened a Hickory Farms freezer door and found a fresh cheese log still in the wrapper. Bam!




I like to take the two cheese balls and keep ’em in a jar so I always know where they are at all times.





Umm. Yeah. I’m gonna need those back, by the way. I got a hoe in da house and she brought crackers.





Anyone ever comes at me with a buttah knife, I’ll spread them out like Nutella on white bread.





Seriously. Did youz see those things? I swear she must hold ’em like this in the (bleepin’) shower.






Dang, girl.






MmmMmm. Better sand bag the front door. Something tells me there’s a Storm front moving in this weekend.



Welcome home, Renee!

Welcome home, Lee!

Finally.  The whole Mob Wives gang is back together again.

Or close to it, anyway, as two of Staten Island’s most infamous residents found their way back to the neighborhood this week.

Granted, Renee’s actual home is so new that she still doesn’t know where the fuse box is located, and Drita‘s husband Lee is technically still based out of some random Halfway House on the East Coast.

But at least they’re home, right?

We picked right up where we left off last week, as Drita relived the moment she opened her front door and found newly released Lee standing in the kitchen holding daughter Gizelle in his arms.

If she didn’t already (bleep) her pants when she saw him standing there by the sink, I’m pretty sure Drita (bleeped) them when she retold the story, because she was going off like she had just been to a One Direction concert.  Totally (bleepin’) awesome.

Also, since I’m fairly certain that on your first day of prison release you probably aren’t going to break a window and climb in through the back hallway, I’m going to assume that Drita’s other daughter Aleeya must have let Lee in when he rang the doorbell.

They never really clarified how he got inside a home that utilizes the same high tech video security system they have at Best Buy, but somehow Lee made it in and was hugging it up with his kids when Drita swung the door open.

She (bleepin’) bugged out.  Which she does a lot.

And Carla and Big Ang love that romantic shizzle.  They were hanging off the edge of the couch, totally jealz, as Drita explained how incarceration keeps a man fresh as a bone-in ham in the freezer, and that she couldn’t even wait for that thing to defrost on the counter before she tore into it.

Bow chicka bow wow.

As far as that whole fresh as ham in a freezer thing goes though, I’m not really sure what Food Network prison chef show Drita’s been watching, because every time I rent a jailhouse movie they are definitely serving up some ham salad, if you know what I mean.

But she would know better, I guess.  Plus, she still scares me a little.  So whatev.

For now, Lee was off to the Halfway House, leaving Drita to try and figure out what to do next.  Should she take him back?  Should she not even give him a chance?  What to do.

Luckily, Big Ang and RuPaul were both on hand to offer a few words of wisdom when it came to dealing with ex-cons and drag queens.

Don’t F*** it up, Fish.

Next, it was off to a charity art event with Karen, Ramona and my new Reality TV girlfriend Love Majewski.

It was a chance to shop, raise some money for breast cancer and to see Lovey wear the same one shoulder top that Wilma Flinstone always wore when she went to the Bedrock Opera House.  I swear.

Don’t ask.  It’s better that way.

Then Renee finally got her homecoming.

After weeks in Miami rehab, where we discovered that she bowled, went to movies and laid on the beach (…say what?  Sign me up…) Renee was back home in her new digs.

In TV Time it was getting close to Thanksgiving, so she was looking forward to a fresh start for the holidays with friends and family.  It would mean a chance to begin a new chapter in her life and put all the Junior wire tapping dramz behind her.

Thanksgiving would also mean that Drita was going to have to stop gnawing on that Easter ham sooner or later, and switch to turkey like the rest of us.

Come up for air, girlfriend.  He’ll be home for awhile.

But before the holidays, Renee wanted to get all the girls together and celebrate her homecoming in style.  Big ball bowling style.  So she set a date with Drita and then went back to trying to locate that fuse box before the winter storms season hit.

Across town, on the other side of da hood, Karen was chillin’ with her new homie Storm at the studio.  Word.

As you’ll recall, Karen had just recently invested in the studio because a financial advisor told her to spread around some of the monetary love from her Mob Daughter book, and since she knew absolutely NOTHING about the music industry, a studio seemed the perfect fit.

Kickin’ it in the hizzle with Storm and his backwards hat, Karen was a textbook silent partner.  Except for the silent part.

What should I do?  What’s that knob for?  What’s that switch for?  Can I push that big red one?  How did they make Kim Zolciak sound like she could sing?

But Storm was totally dope and coolio wid it as he busted out a few hip hop phrases that flew miles over her white Italian girl head.  Fo shizzle.

Karen knew what Single & Ready to Mingle meant, though, and almost swallowed her gum when she realized that Storm might have been flirting with her a little bit.

Hmmm.  Mama liked, and the Gravano Gravy was starting to heat up.

Stay tuned, Big Daddy.  Stay tuned.

And speaking of trying to score.  It was time to hit the bowling alley.

Drita, Ang, Ramona and Karen all joined Renee to celebrate the completion of her stint at rehab and to prove that bowling really ain’t there thang.  Really.

As Big Ang gave birth to bowling ball baby after bowling ball baby (…our girl prefers the drop, splat and roll technique over the more traditional three finger toss…) everyone else aimed for the gutter and drank beer.

Except Renee, who won the game like a pool shark.  If pool sharks bowled, I mean.

See yah, suckahs.

Turns out it was a slow news week on Mob Wives, so next up we killed some time watching Neil get a haircut.  Riveting stuff, I tell you.

Big Ang’s on again, off again, in again, out again husband was currently back in the house, and apparently part of the deal was that he get rid of that boy band faux hawk and clean it up a little.  So they hit up the local barber shop for some grooming.

Because that’s what Big Ang wanted.  And she’s the boss of him.

While Neil was getting buzzed, Karen and Drita enjoyed a spa day together.  Which is crazy, because last season they almost threw each other off the penthouse roof top, right?  Crazy.

Maybe if Renee and Ramona had shown up like they were supposed to, it wouldn’t have been so initially awkward.  But they didn’t.  So it was.

Side note:  For some reason VH1 felt it necessary to blur out all the Drita side boob action on her massage table, which was odd considering that 5 channels up the dial at the Oscars telecast the same things were flopping out of every Armani Privé gown on the red carpet.  Go figure.

Karen and Drita talked about Lee coming home and the irony of the two of them laying face down together on tables instead of cement sidewalks.  And then they had cocktails.

Even though Renee and Ramona couldn’t be bothered to follow through on their spa date, they did manage to hit the streets for some quality bonding time during an evening walking tour of Little Italy’s best pastry and coffee shops.

Hard to believe, but it had already been one year since Renee’s Dad Anthony “TG” Graziano “went away” (…that’s how they say it on the Island…) after getting caught up in that whole Junior turned Rat Snitch fiasco.  Combine that with the memory of Ramona’s grandfather Benjamin “LeftyGuns” Ruggiero, who passed away on Thanksgiving Day 1994 and you had the makings for a stroll down Memory Lane.  

Ramona wanted to set up a memorial for Lefty, and Renee wanted another grandé mocha sumthin sumthin, because she always seems to be holding a Starbucks cup now that she is back from rehab.

As if going to a barber shop didn’t already captivate a nation, Big Ang then headed to the lamp store to buy some light bulbs.  Nine of them.

I know what you’re thinking.  Most people would probably go to Costco for such a bulk quantity, but Ang don’t play dat.  Did I already mention it was a slow news week?

Carla accompanied Angela to Lamps ‘r Us in case she needed any assistance with such a massive quantity of LEDs, and it gave them both a chance to gossip about Joe‘s divorce papers and custody issues while the sales guy nervously scurried around trying to find a box of miniature chandelier bulbs.  Because Ang is the boss of him, too.

It also gave us all a chance to realize that at some point during the filming of her own spin-off show, Big Ang had gotten exceptionally MmmHmm YouGoGirl sassy.  Like two snaps and a circle VH1 sassy.  Or maybe it’s just me, but I don’t remember her being so over the top during that first roof top throw down all those many episodes ago.

Everything is eye rolls and OhNoSheDin’t and big hand gestures and don’tchoo get my hair wet, Boo.  And you totally know that Big Ang uses the eraser end of a pencil when she types unpunctuated tweets on her keyboard.  Cuz acrylics ain’t cheap, haters.

That doesn’t mean I love her any less.  It’s just an observation, mmmkay?  Snap.

Then the Wives took us to church.  Literally.

Lefty Gun’s memorial service included prayers, speeches and someone who looked like Whitney Houston in her I Wanna Dance With Somebody video singing a hymn.


I had to Google her to find out all the deets because I liked her voice, and because that’s what I do.  According to her website she’s an up and coming performer that I should have probably already known, but since I don’t shop at Arden B or buy my makeup at Walgreeen’s, I didn’t know who she was.

(Hey.  I’m just telling you what her site said.  Chill.)

But she had a great voice.  So check her out.  Esnavi‘s the name.  Singing’s the game.

Don’t get too comfortable, though.  After surviving Storm Sandy and horny Producer Storm, there was one more storm slowing brewing on the Island.

Storm Carla.  You could tell something was coming.  Not sure when, so I’m sure you still have time to board the windows and stock up on non-perishables.

But something was coming.

First off, Carla had a little sit down with Joe and his new live-in girlfriend Raquel.  Carla had never actually met the woman, even though she had already judged her and talked smack in five boroughs.  But this time they met up face to face.

It went well, considering that deep down Carla doesn’t honestly believe anyone should own the deed to Joe’s kahunas unless it’s Carla herself.  But Raquel is a nice girl and barely flinched when Carla tossed around the phrase Hoes In Da House like it was a new dance club anthem.

Hoes In Da House.  Put your hands up in the air.  And close your legs to married men.

Big Ang would have totally gone all OhNoSheDin’t if she was there.  MmmHmm.

In the diner, Carla and Raquel agreed to play nice, even though Raquel thought she was full of (bleep) after Joe paid the bill.

I could totally sit through a show that was nothing but Joe’s whacky eyeballs.

Love that dude.

Finally, the storm inched even closer during a sushi dinner with Love, Karen and Drita.

Love had heard that Carla was talking about everybody.  Again.  There seems to be a lot of that going around.

And whether you actually diss Love, or her Girls, it’s all the same.  You wouldn’t kick a pitbull puppy if its mother was sitting right there, would you?  Der.

Remember when Carla swung that tiny butter knife in Renee’s face a few weeks ago?

Big whoop.  Love actually stabbed a guy.  Or two.

So you do the math.

And then stock up on those non-perishables, because something’s coming.


Dance Moms: Rotten To The Core. The Real Housewives Of Pittsburgh Are Back, And They’re Throwing Shade And Bottled Water In Yo’ Face.

Wednesday, February 13th, 2013




You might wanna chill, girls. I got this.






I know, right? I can’t explain my awesome hair either. It just kinda happens.





I hate to squeak and freak, but I’ve gotta work the red carpet, shoot a movie and feed My Little Pony.






Look. I still have ice cream on my pants.






Hello, Applebee’s? Please tell me you’re still open. Mama needs a cocktail.






Not gonna lie. Some of those Dance Dads are mighty fine. Mmm Mmm.





Oh Hell No, Bitch. I know you did NOT just get my hair wet.





Lawd have mercy.

Seriously.  I had no idea dancing could be so exhausting.

I can’t imagine actually doing it, if just watching it wears me out like this.

Dance Moms just took every show on my DVR and once again mashed them all up into one chaotic, oversized throw down.

We had Real Housewives drama as everyone got all OhNoSheDin’t all up in each other’s faces.  We had RuPaul realness as queens threw shade all over the room.  We had Mob Wives on the attack as water and knock-off pocketbooks flew every which way.  We had Monday Night Football as testosterone fueled Dance Dads fist pumped and chest bumped each other right into the sheetrock.  We had Animal Planet as the female of the species tried to sink their fangs into soft fleshy neck tissue to protect their young from outside predators.

And there was definitely some What Not To Wear going on up in there.  Just saying.

We even had a Saturday morning cartoon if you count little Sophia Lucia squeaking around Studio A, but she was hardly there long enough to move the needle so she doesn’t really count this time around.

Honestly, if they hadn’t stretched this week’s episode into a 90 minute Abbypalooza, I’m not sure there would have been enough time for any actual dancing.  Don’t plan on getting much work done at the office today, because this is a long one.

Coming off of last week’s win, you would think that Abby Lee Miller would be smiling as everyone filed in for the Pyramid of Shame & Supension, but that wasn’t happening.  You could tell she was already cranky when she snarked at Brooke for spending the entire ride to the studio uploading pictures to her Instagram page instead of putting her hair up in a bun.

And so it began.

Just to mess with their heads, Abby started the Pyramid from the top down.

Kendall finally made it to the top spot.  Finally.  Jill did an end zone victory dance and messed her hair up a little more.

Maddie and Nia were hanging in the middle.  Better than the bottom, not as good as the top.  Nia definitely didn’t appear to be on her game.  Stay tuned.

Sitting on the bottom were Paige and Mackenzie.  Paige was there just cuz, and Mackadoodle got called out for being Dead Weight.  Also on the bottom was a photo of the MIA Chloe, with a big magic marker “Suspended” tagged on her face like gang graffiti on a dumpster.

As you’l recall, Mom Christi had completely melted down last week after argument #974 with Abby and had physically dragged Chloe out of the venue, shoving paparazzi and 9 year old fangirls to the floor as she vowed never to return again.

The Password is: Suspension.

Looks like they got a week off to catch up on homework and buy some more sparkly Chico’s tops.

Since having magic marker scribble on your face isn’t humiliating enough, Abby then taped Brooke’s 8×10 glossy over Chloe’s on the Pyramid, like she never even existed.

At least Brooke finally made it back up on the wall, bun or not.

This week they were headed to Detroit.  Motor City.  For yet another Starpower competition.  And another dance your face-off with their arch rivals, the Candy Apples Male Revue.

Yeah.  The boys were back in town again.  And judges love them boys.  And in case you missed it the first 20 times, Abby once again explained how boys get better scores than the girls, in the hopes that they will continue dancing and not worry about getting wedgies in gym class.

Kendall got another solo, as did Maddie.  You remember Maddie, right?

Paige and Nia got a duet.  And then everyone got to rehearsing.

As Nia and Paige started getting into their Wild Child & Wallflower routine, we finally got some insight into why Sasha Nia has been dragging her tailpipe this season.

Our little Diva suffers from RND.  Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy Syndrome.  A mouthful, and something that had never been discussed in the last three seasons.  It’s a neurological disease that basically hurts.  A lot.  You can Google all the info.  It just came out of the blue this week, and we found out that Sasha used to be in a wheelchair for a bit.  But she doesn’t let it get her down, and by the middle of the show this week she was getting her LaQuifa What? face back.

You go, girl.

Then we headed to Ohio and the Evil Dance Lair.  Before you even see the cows you know it’s Ohio, because they always play that Drive-In Movie music as we go inside the Candy Apple’s Dance Center.  Literally, I can’t even look at Ohio on a map anymore without wanting to go to the snack bar for a dancing weenie and buttered popcorn.

If you have no idea what a Drive-In Movie theater or a dancing weenie is…please just go do a book report on it or something.  I can’t be that old.

Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein was plotting the next attack with her new dancing boy toys while she activated her Apple TV video pyramid.  It’s way cooler than Abby’s scotch tape presentation, but since it’s only four boys it’s not as impressive as it should be.

Bboy Jalen, Miami Dancing Machine Gino and Zack Attack were all present and accounted for, as well as a newbie Brandon.  One of last week’s kids was already missing, but I forget which one.  And this time we had three Dance Dads in the hizzle and they were all going off like it was Super Bowl Sunday.

And you know that Zack’s Mom Gina was loving it.  She’s not a trouble maker, and even back on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition she pretty much just sat back and let that Jennifer Lopez Mom slap the crazy right out of Yvette.  But what Dance Mom wouldn’t want to have three dudes fight over who’s gonna open the limo door for you?

Bring it on, boys.  Mama likes.

The boys routine was all about a mystery girl they see in a magazine who gets them so tightly wound that they have to spin on their heads and dance like One Direction.  It reminded me of the first time you found your Dad’s Playboy and disappeared for two hours in the treehouse.  TMI?

While the boys practiced looking at girls in magazines (…insert your own tasteless joke here_________ ) the girls were back in Pittsburgh working on their Mountain Avalanche dance.  Nia’s foot was starting to act up again, and Mom Holly was getting concerned.

I actually thought it might be aching like your joints do when a storm front is moving in, or when animals go totally spaz before an earthquake, because next thing you know…in walked Sophia and Mom Jackie, fresh from the movie shoot or photo shoot or modeling shoot or crap shoot or whatever Witness Protection shoot they’ve been on for the last three weeks.

They’re baaaaaack.

But only for about 23 minutes, so don’t get too excited.  But it was long enough for Jackie to squirm around during one of Abby’s screaming fits, for Sophia to start trending on Twitter and for Kelly to pump Jackie for all her Hollywood contacts.  Then they were gone again.

If only the pain in Nia’s foot would disappear as easily.

As Kendall started her first crying episode of the week, Nia finally couldn’t take it anymore (…the pain, not Kendall’s weekly crying jag…) and headed to the doctor’s to see wassup with her RND.

Clearly it must have been an intern she and Mom met with, because the medical professional told her it was ok to go back to the dance studio as long as she didn’t dance too much, which didn’t even make sense.  You can dance as long as you don’t dance, ok honey?  Have a lollipop.

But Sasha is a fighter, and she’s gonna work through it like a boss.

Finally, it was Showtime!

I’ll say it again.  The entrances into the venues are more entertaining than the actual competitions lately.

The Candy Apples brigade arrived in a Real Housewives of Beverly Hills stretch limo that almost sideswiped the ALDC Enterprise rental van.  As Abby and Cathy entered the auditorium they were once again greeted by all those Justin Bieber girls holding up iPads and Hello Kitty cells, screaming like their roller coaster just lost its brakes.

Abby bellied right up to the Boy Bar and started pointing out that none of the Candy Apples team was actually from Ohio, which set Dad Rick off like a bottle rocket.

Since they don’t wear name tags, I’m assuming he’s Jalen’s Dad, because he hugged him at one point.  But regardless, he and Abby got all up in each other’s grill and started talking trailer trash s*** until Melissa broke it up.

Seriously.  Richard’s a bigger bitch than half the women on the show.

You can talk to your wife like that, but not to me.  I don’t talk to my wife like that, because she doesn’t talk to children like that.  What’s your point?  What’s your point?

Honestly, if this was Days of Our Lives they would have made out right there in the lobby.  Hot, sloppy, angry dance teacher kind of make out.

But luckily it’s not, and they all headed to their dressing rooms.  Except Cathy became disoriented and went right into the ALDC room and got everyone all worked up again.

Abby and Holly went a few rounds as well, and Professor Frazier called Abby a Monstrosity of Evil, which I believe is a Japanese film.  Then Abby pulled the duet because Holly was being a RickBitch and nobody speaks to Abby like that.  Holly ended up in the ladies room with Kelly, sobbing her eyes out and getting mad that she even allowed Abby to get under her skin at all.

Then somebody remembered that it was a dance show, and the kids did their thang on one of those bar mitzvah hotel dance floors.  Originally I thought it was an auditorium, but then I saw that the room was set up exactly the same way they set up the Ramada for pageants on Toddlers & Tiaras, so I have no clue where this thing was going down.

All I know is that nobody could see around Abby because all the seats were floor level pricing.

And don’t get me started on the Wild Dance Intensive backdrop.  Total Jungle Love.

For a dance competition?  Trees and safari decor and so much busy Amazon artwork that any kid who was wearing a green costume completely disappeared like a chameleon on a rain forest leaf.  Who comes up with these things?

Kendall’s solo was pretty tame.  Gino’s solo looked like we all went back in a time machine and watched baby Marc Anthony on a Telemundo talent show.

Maddie’s solo was a Maddie solo.  She likes to hold both sides of her head a lot when she dances.  I give you the Migraine Mambo.  Judges?

In the Candy Apples locker room, the Dads got the boys all pumped up for their Playboy routine like it was bottom of the 4th quarter and there was no beer left in the cooler.  I think Gina was a little turned on.

Zack even channeled Tom Brady and Peyton Manning during his backstage motivational speech.

If the power grid could have handled it, I would have bet money that Beyoncé was going to show up for a Halftime Show.  A second bet would have been that the blonde judge was going to throw her panties up on stage when the boys started dancing.

This chick was Into.  It.  Big time.

Then some kids won some stuff.  Google it, because the important stuff went down after crowning.  Or awards.  What show is this again?

(Spoiler Alert: It wasn’t the ALDC.  Yikes.)

It all started one mo’ time in the hallway between The Rickster and Abby.  Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?  Then Abby dissed congested Vivi-Anne, who follows Mom Cathy around like she’s inside one of those invisible electric shock fences or something.

Then Jill blew a nutty because she heard Cathy talk about Kendall.  And then everyone started screaming.

Cathy got disoriented again and ended up back in the ALDC dressing room.  Wait for it…wait for it….

Boom! Abby threw her water at Cathy.  Cathy swung her pocketbook at Abby and clocked her in the back of her head and shoulders.  (Side note…Abby spent the rest of the scene hugging herself like she had just fallen out of a ski lift.  It was a pocketbook honey, not a forklift.)

As Cathy tried to run out and meet up with all her flying monkeys, Jill tossed another bottle of Poland Springs on her head and then it just went bazoinkers.

Like Real Housewives of Atlanta when Kim and NeNe go at it.  That kind.

There were camera guys in everybody’s way as Jill and Cathy pounced on each other.  Cathy stole Kelly’s water and hosed down Jill.  Some random guy who looked like he tallied votes for the Oscars grabbed Cathy and pulled her out of the room.  Jill went nutty.  Cowboy Hat Nutty, for those of you who remember her first nut.

Then Abby called her Mom.  Melissa was afraid that Abby was going to have a heart attack.  Kelly couldn’t believe that she was the sane one this week.

And shouldn’t someone have tried to track down a few of the children?  Where were they, anyway?


Oh, what a World.  What a Dance World.

Toddlers & Tiaras: International Fresh Faces Unleashes Big Growls And Big Hair Under A Circus Pageant Big Top.

Saturday, February 9th, 2013



No Oompa Loompas allowed. Just lots of clowns. Lots and lots of scary clowns. And some candy.






I know that little girl did not just show up with big a** frizzy hair on my watch.






Would it have killed them to pick me up a mocha grandé turbo blast? They could have called my cell.





Ok, baby. You can wear Daddy’s crown for the picture, but then you have to give it right back.






Oh. Hell. No. Miss Thing did not just stand there in that weave and call me out for my frizz.





This is literally the 5th pair of fancy sunglasses that I’ve lost. I swear that Coach Nikki bitch is putting ’em on ebay.




If you’re scared of clowns, this one probably ain’t for you.

And if you’re scared of clowns and glitz pageants…then you’ll most definitely have a seizure, because this week Toddlers & Tiaras bought out an entire block of seats under the tent and took us all to the Big Top, whether we wanted to go or not.

The International Fresh Faces Big Top that is, complete with lion tamers, low flying acrobatic gymnasts, a stage backdrop that looked like it had been folded up in a storage unit since last year’s competition season and a fake Britney Spears.

And it was like Britney always says.

When I crack that whip, everybody gon’ trip just like a circus.

Ringmaster Angie Pearson explained how it all worked when it came to this intricately themed full glitz extravaganza, in case there was anyone out there in the Free World who was not familiar with the term circus.

Ironically enough, the only Rule was that there were no Rules and all the contestants were encouraged to “Think outside the box.” 

I hate to break it to you, honey, but I’m pretty sure that Toddlers & Tiaras lost the lid for that container a long time ago, so thinking outside of it shouldn’t be an issue for anyone involved.

Angie (…I’m calling her Blonde Ang, just so nobody confuses her with Big Ang from that other circus show…) was nice enough, but once again not as looney tunes as I prefer my Pageant Directors.  She reminded me of the grown-up version of some ’80s sitcom kid, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly who.  Maybe even ’70s.  I’m thinking Brady Bunch or one of those TV Land people.

But she was into it, and that is the most important prerequisite for a Director, next to being full-on cray cray.  Plus, she was all for spraying and painting and decorating you kid to their maximum glitz potential, as long as they didn’t cross that delicate line into Oompa Loompa territory.


The first potential princess we met was 22 month old Oliviana and her Mom Delia.

As you already know, each week at least one person per episode is contractually required to have either an outrageously tweaked  spelling of their first name or some Klingon-esque pronunciation that no one outside of their immediate family would ever stand a chance of knowing.

TLC makes them sign something.

For some reason I kind of expected two “N’s” in Olly’s name, but this time around it was Mom who snuck one in on us.  Even though she spelled her name like it should rhyme with Ophelia, Mom had to go and make us learn how to say Duh-LEE-ya.

Not DEE-leeya.

I swear.  Sometimes this show is just too much work after a hard day.

Even though I’m not a big fan of micro-thin penciled-in eyebrows, Mom seemed really nice and friendly.  She smiled all the time and had really super excited eyeballs when it came to pageants.

She also liked to wear sunglasses on her head for extended periods of time inside a building, which drives me crazy, but Delia fully supported her kid and sometimes that’s more important than looking like you just wasted a half hour searching for your shades when they were on your noggin the whole time.  So she gets a pass.  This time.

But that support was nuthin’ compared to polo-wearing Pageant Dad Rob.

Dude was into it.  Big time.

When he wasn’t blending into that pink bedroom with the pink frilly curtains and pink pageant trophy wall, pink polo Dad was all about The Glitz.

But not in that creepy Wish I Could Fit In That Sparkly Cupcake Dress Myself kind of way that some previous Pageant Dads have aspired to…but more the I Want To Be King Of The Pageant World When I Grow Up kind of way.

He wanted to be a judge, a director and CEO of Rob’s International Pageant Emporium and Sparkle Bootcamp.  Because that’s all he thinks about all day.  For realz.

Ok.  Maybe it was a little creepy.  But not much.  Plus he had one of those odd scruffy half-beards that you always see on Bowling Night, and those things can suck all the flamboyance out of anyone’s potentially fabulous demeanor.

So put your taser down.  He’s cool.

Our second little contestant was 6 year old Katlyn and Mom Renee.

Katlyn liked to get her way.  Or else.  And Mom usually let her get it, because the alternative meltdown was just not worth the spike in blood pressure or cholesterol levels.

Mom reminded me of those women who lay on the beach all day and then waitress all night at touristy restaurants.  She seemed kind of tanned up and shiny, and had hair that never seemed to dry.  And that’s what those waitresses always looked like after chilling with their boyfriend lifeguards all day, so that’s why I said it.  And you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I liked Renee.  She was hard core PM (…Pageant Mom.  Der…) but not to the point of being committed to some asylum for her own safety.  She just expected perfection, and was honest enough to say that her kid was rotten, which took the pressure off of me from having to say it and then get blasted in the chat rooms.

I mentioned Katlyn liked to get her way, right?  Don’t forget it.  Or else.

The last little nugget was 4 year old Alivia (…not Olivia, because that would have been too easy…) and her Mom Lauren.

Alivia had enjoyed the Terrible Twos so much that she decided to continue functioning in that terrorizing mindset for as long as possible.  She was a real cutie pie, but don’t look at her or talk to her or breath the same air as her unless you get her permission.

She liked to boss Mom around.

Except for an unhealthy obsession with glitter eye shadow and that Jergens face moisturizer that sparkles (…Spoiler Alert: Just wait until you see her reflect the camera lights on Pageant Day…) Mom gets the thumbs up from me.  She was even rocking some “Alivia” ink on her right arm, which made her look like one of those pretty girls who could neuter a guy with one hand if he tried to harass her at a karaoke bar.

She’s edgy, and we like edgy.  You could just tell she knows how to throw down without spilling her drink.

And speaking of throwing down.  Bite sized Oliviana hit the mixed martial arts studio to learn how to pinch a neck artery and finger kiss a table of judges at the same time.

Mom and Dad and Mom’s sunglasses brought Olly to Ultimate Fitness so two bald guys in Under Armor gear could suspend her upside down and body slam her on the mat, all in the name of stability and confidence building.  Trust me…next year when she can stand on her own and jump from the ropes like they do on Pay-per-View, Oliviana is going home with the big trophy or break someone’s nose trying.

But only after she gets her French tips done, of course.

Not to be outdone, Alivia hit up the Island Day Spa for a spray tan.  I’ll never quite understand why tan girls feel the need to spend the money on airbrushing procedures that don’t send them home any darker than when they first walked in the door, but they do it all the time.  I just don’t get it.

But she had fun, and got to make some goofy faces that looked like she was sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a Warner Bros cartoon, so all in all it was a good day.

Next, since TLC apparently kept the Here Comes Honey Boo Boo subtitle guy on permanent retainer, we got to meet Katlyn’s Grandpa Freddie as he showed off the animal cage he had created for Circus Wear.

Obviously, Grandpa had no idea what Circus Wear was.  Or what Katlyn was going to be doing in that cage during her “little play.”  Or why there was even a camera crew in the driveway.  But at least we could understand Freddie’s confusion, because they crawled all his lines across the bottom of the screen just in case anyone out there in the viewing public was unfamiliar with the English language.

Freddie smiled a big smirky smile, Katlyn had another meltdown on a bench and Mom regretted quiting her night job at the Beach Comber.  Ya’ll come back now.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Blonde Ang was all excited, and had apparently spent so much time choosing her multitude of outfit changes that she hadn’t had time to iron the backdrop, because that thing was seriously creased.  Like when you first pull your Thanksgiving tablecloth out of the bottom drawer after a year creased.  Or vacuum salesmen’s pants when they forget their travel steamer at home and don’t have time to let them hang on the hotel shower rod.  That kind of creased.

It was bad.

Oliviana woke up cranky pants.  Alivia woke up cranky pants.  Katlyn woke up feeling hateful towards her false eyelashes.  It was going to be one of those days.

After the usual hair and makeup dramzzz, the girls all (…pretty much…) made it to the stage for the Glitz portion.

Olly was almost late due to the mother of all hissy fits, but Dad and his polo got her there just in the nick of time.  She wasn’t really feeling it and Rob ended up doing more pouty faces and judge kissing than she did, but unfortunately a parent’s scores are not taken into consideration when the final tally is added up before crowning.

Alivia added “don’t take my picture” to the ever growing list of things you can’t do to her and worked the stage in some really tall hair.

Katlyn’s hair, on the other hand, was called out by one of the judges for being too frizzy.

I forget the judge’s name, but when you check your DVR she’s the one with the big crazy a** frizzy hair.

Yeah.  The irony of that moment was not lost on anybody.

When it came to Circus Wear, it was more of the same.  Only more circus-y.

(Is that even a word?)

Olly’s Ringmaster shoes didn’t fit, which again made me question why all these families spend next month’s mortgage on clothes that they don’t try on until it’s crunch time when they’re numerically lined up in a hotel ballroom.  I just don’t get it.  Again.

Luckily a friend of theirs just happened to be lurking around the lobby with a pair of infant pleather boots (…I always keep a spare in my fanny pack, don’t you?…) so Olly once again made it on stage just in time.

Second verse, same as the first.

After wobbling through Rob’s homemade circus arch, Oliviana basically stood there until Dad ripped off part of her costume.  Delia watched the whole thing from the audience, clutching one of those hard old lady candies between two fingers so she wouldn’t choke on it during the chaos.

The whole thing was a little surreal.  And I’m not really sure if tearing away Olly’s collar piece was pre-planned or not.  But regardless, it inspired her to keep on going and she started popping off her Ringmaster cuffs.

Yikes.  Luckily Dad finished his routine before it got anymore uncomfortably inappropriate.  Oliviana’s a serious patootie, but when you’re only 22 months old, chances are you’re going to act like you’re 22 months old when you hit the stage.

Alivia’s Britney Spears circus routine also started out with a festive arch entrance, but by the time she fought her way through the tangle of tinsel she was already out of steam.

Don’t get me wrong.  She made a great effort. But if you stay up until 1am the night before the competition, sometimes a girl just doesn’t have it in her to hula hoop and whip a stuffed lion with attitude.

Maybe she just needed some of Katlyn’s coffee, because after Mom Renee pumped 12 ounces of Starbucks Go-Go Juice into her daughter, Katy busted out of Grandpa’s cage like she was on Broadway.  The elevator muzac version of Rocky‘s Eye of The Tiger was a nice touch, too, as Mom busted out the dance that all the waitresses do at closing time.

Mama’s milkshake could definitely bring all the boys to the yard.  She had it going on.

Then some kids won some stuff.

All three girls scored trophies that ended in “sumthin sumthin–Supreme” so they were all excited.  Everyone did super neato this week, so I’d say the circus was a success.

Then it was time to knock down the tent and go to bed.

You’re right, Britney.  We be trippin’.

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