Posts Tagged ‘Reality TV Recap’

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: It Was Your Worst Nightmare. Vampires, Sickle Feet And Moody Teenage Girls.

Wednesday, October 30th, 2013




That’s right, kids. You can count all the Krazy Moms on just one hand now.







That Philly Mom be hatin’ all up on me. I got your big hoagie right here, lady.







Do you seriously not see me putting on muh face right now? Back it up. Just. Back. It. Up.






And then she tried to go all ‘Girlfriend’ up on me like some gangstah bake sale bitch at the mall.







Srsly? And they think I’m insane?







All I wanted was a birthday party, the new iPhone and a pony. Who ordered all the clowns?






Imma ’bout ready to snatch me an iPad and some weave if Flashdance don’t stop playing that damn Candy Crush.





We’ve all had them.

Things hiding in closets.  Things that go bump in the night.  Things that lurk in the shadows and touch your face while you sleep.  Yoga pants and Ugg boots.

Creepy stuff, for sure.

But if we’re talking true gothic horror…try being trapped in a room with five Dance Moms and five tweeny bop girls for an hour.

Then we’ll see who wets the bed.

It was Nightmare Week on Abby’s Ultimate Dace Competition, which I guess was somehow different than every other week in AUDC Land.  I wasn’t sure how they were going to differentiate this one from any other episode since I’m a little spooked every Tuesday night, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt.

And this week was legit Scary Spice.

After shipping PowerTwin #2 back to the Atwood Double T Ranch at the end of last week’s country jamboree, it was down to the Final Five dancers.

All girls.  All giggly.  And all hovering at just above or below that terrifying teen age benchmark where all that matters in life is picking up the pieces from the devastation of the Jonas Brothers break-up.

I was scared just watching them file in for the latest challenge.

This week it was Abby Lee Miller‘s favorite skill set.  And she couldn’t wait to get the party started.  So let’s do this thing.

The theme:  Nightmares.  Be afraid.  Be very afraid.

The skill:  Technique.  And don’t screw it up, kids.

The challenge:  Ballet.

The chance that Rachelle Rak would stand up during the judging portion of the show:  100% times a billion sassy apple bites.  Don’t you worry.  It’ll happen.


Right away, McKaylee‘s Mom Shari got all excited about the ballet challenge because she had been running a ballet studio back home for what sounded like 50 years, thus guaranteeing that McKayKay was going to sail through this week’s obstacle course.

Last week Shari also got herself all wound up about the Country Western theme because she claimed to be running a dairy farm out of the family barn, so I guess that if you need to work on your grands ronde de jambes or pick up a quart of 2%…Shari is your gal.

The Filly from Philly was also pretty excited about this week, but for different reasons.

Giaaaaanna‘s Mom Cindy figured that her arch nemesis Jessalynn and tiny sugar squirt JoJo would finally be headed home soon now that Honey Bow Bow was up against the Big Dawgs.  That and the fact that JoJo should be running out of hair accessories soon, which clearly disguise the power source for the little dancing machine.

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

The winner of this week’s challenge would get to pick which two dancers would perform in a duet, while everyone else would be handed out solos.  Mind Games!

I mean…do you carry the entire weight of a solo dance on your shoulders in front of the judges, or put yourself at risk of your duet partner totally f***ing up a twosome?  And how do we live in a world with no more Jo Bros?  I just can’t right now.

Lesley Bandy was back to lead the girls in another little Nutcracker number.  I still haven’t bothered to Google Ms. Bandy and get the dirt, but she came running in like Peter Pan’s mother and that’s really all that mattered this time.  I bet she gets her hair cut every week and smells like Chanel No. 5.

With only five little dancers left, the ballet challenge was over before it even began.

JoJo was cut first.  Again.

Why that girl doesn’t just start the challenges already sitting down with her Mom is beyond me.  It would save us a lot of time.

McKaylee won the challenge, so I guess all that ballet and extra calcium paid off.

You go, little cowgirl.


She and Mom and Mom’s crazy eyes assigned the duet to JoJo and Kalani, and JoJo’s Mom was not happy at all.  Something about throwing them under the bus.

Turns out that Jessalynn and Shari have known each other since Shari’s cows were just calves and this whole competition was clearly putting a strain on their friendship.

Spoiler Alert:  They should fight it out, right?

Bur first…rehearsals.

JoJo and Kalani’s Vampire Attack duet was looking a little clunky at first as frustrated choreographer Tessandra Chavez tried to deal with not only glaringly different levels of dance expertise but also whatever was going on with her own bangs.  You might wanna walk away from the scissors before somebody gets hurt, ma’am.

Fake Kristie Ray Mom Kira pointed out that her girl Kalani was clearly the better technical dancer as JoJo tried to gracefully hoist herself up onto a Jekyll and Hyde park bench without tipping the whole thing over and crushing her partner.

Down the hall, choreographer Matt Cady was  giving Giaaaaanna some Zombie Dreams behind a rolling headstone as Cindy slouched all over her Mom Chair like the cushions were greased with Philly cheese.  Love me some Cindy, but she has the worst posture I’ve ever seen.  She’s lucky Lesley Brandy doesn’t come in there and slap her right back into yesterday.

Fercryinoutloud.  Sit up straight, woman.  You’re on the television.

When she gave herself a solo during the challenge, I’m betting that McKaylee had no idea she would end up swinging from Lesley’s Peter Pan wire in Shannon Beach‘s Bird of Prey routine or she would have sent JoJo up into those rafters instead.  I don’t know how thin the air was up in the ceiling tiles, but it must have been pretty heavy down on the ground because Mom Shari was hyperventilating herself into unconsciousness the first time they yanked her daughter off the floor.

Mom was a nervous wreck.  But honestly, even if the wire was mysteriously cut by one of her competitors during the performance and McKaylee plummeted to Earth, all those dairy cows probably gave her strong enough bones to survive the crash.  Chillax.

The last solo of the week, entitled Possession, belonged to Trinity and her sickled feet.  It was basically the never-before-seen Linda Blair dance routine that was cut from the original Exorcist movie.  I think it’s still on the special dvd boxed set if you can find it, but most people have never seen the number.

Since Trinity had spent most of her life doing gymnastics on a 2×4 wooden Home Depot beam, she’d been trained to sickle her Spider-Man feet to hold on for dear life.

But now she had to unlearn that technique.  Fast.


Spoiler Alert #2:  Good luck with that.

While the kids all worked on their scary dreams, another nightmare was unfolding down in the Craft Room as the Moms started hot glueing and coming unglued at the same time.

Cindy started in again about what a pain in the a** 9 year old JoJo was (…nice talk by the way…) as Shari just sat back and let it all go down.  No defense of her BFF Jessalynn’s daughter at all.  Nuthin, I tell you.

Needless to say, Mama Jess wasn’t having it and got all up in Shari’s face, who volleyed the ball right back at her with a fabulously awkward ‘GuessWhatGirlfriend?’ and some crazy heated PTA meeting arm work.

Hold up.

Can we just all agree right here that white suburban mall walker moms should never try to get all ‘GuessWhatGirlfriend?’ on their white suburban mall walker mom friends?

Like, never?

Unless it’s something like ‘GuessWhatGirlfriend? I was really feeling the burn going around that last turn by Cinnabon.  You wanna split one and then go to Kohl’s?’

Because otherwise, it just doesn’t work.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s HIGHlarious.  But it doesn’t work.  There’s probably a reason that VH1 hasn’t called you for an audition, Shari.

And what was up with that cardboard cut-out family that Jessalynn had on her makeup table?  Please tell me you saw it.

It was like those paper doll cut-outs you bring on your first school vacation to hold up in front of every famous landmark when someone takes a photograph so the person who was home sick doesn’t feel like they missed out on the trip of a lifetime.

Here’s Daddy at the Pyramids of Egypt.  And the Penguin Room at the Aquarium.

Smile and say ‘GuessWhatGirlfriend?’  Click.  Instagram.

Finally it was Showtime!

Backstage, Trinity showed us what two days before turning 13 looks like.  And it was everything you remembered.  And then some.



Gah.  Duh.  Mom.  You’re soooooo annoying.  Are you like blind?  I’m trying to put on my makeup.  Go talk to your old friends and leave me alone until I move out of the house.

OMG.  LOL.  My Mom is so totz lame.  And it’s my Birthday.  Send.

At the judging table, Richy Jackson was rocking yet another sleeveless monogrammed shirt and a half dozen plastic watches.  Rachelle was revving her sassy engine, clearly waiting for just the right moment to hit the ejector button and fly out of her seat.

Wait for it, America.  Wait for it…

Abby was fairly low key, considering all the sloppy technique she had witnessed during rehearsals.  She was just ready to see some dancing.

Somehow Trinity’s demon child ended up with a Frankenstein face.  Not sure what happened there, but it didn’t stop her from jumping up and down and over and under her possessed bed like she was at the 2014 Purgatory Olympics.  Winner gets a gold medal and a lifetime of curled toes in the flames of Hell.

Abby was not that impressed, but Team R&R enjoyed it quite a bit.

McKaylee’s dive bombing bird dance was good stuff.  She swooped and flew around like she’d been doing it all her life back on the Cirque du Soleil farm.  No wonder they never have problems with crows in the cornfields of Nebraska.

Richy even gave her two fingers and a Poodle Shake, which initially alarmed me when I thought he said Noodle Shake in front of the kids.  But false alarm.  They were just pink Payless Poodle slippers that he flung onto the table for all the world to see.  Happy Dance!

JoJo and Kalani’s vampire dance?  JoJo looked like she had ketchup and Kool-Aid juice box drool all over her face and Abby said the whole thing just made her eyes bleed.  

We’ll leave it at that and move along.

Last but not least was Giaaaaanna and her graveyard smash.  And it was.

Part Bob Fosse, part Tim Burton, Cindy’s kid just wrecked the stage.  In a good way.


Richy flipped her off and Rachelle jumped to her feet to unleash a 1, 2, 3 and an Apple Bite.  Which is trademarked when she tweets it.  No lie.

Can you actually trademark an Apple Bite?  And what makes an Apple Bite different than a Beyoncé Head?  Or getting rear ended in traffic?

Boom.  Boom.  And Pow.

When it came down to the chopping block, my girl Trinity was cut.  And she lost her poodle noodle right there on stage.  It was so sad, not only because she’s one of my favorites, but because she did that hiccup cry that tells you she was really having a meltdown.

Poor little nugget.  She needed a hug.  And a paper bag to breath into.

Luckily, before she completely blacked out and her braces rusted shut, Rachelle came to the rescue and whipped out her Big C.

The Call Back Card!

Pandemonium ensued.

Kids screamed.  Kids cried.  Cindy was all like WTF?  Another pass for JoJo?  Rachelle even got to perform a little more as she handed over the CCard like it was the Nobel Prize for Sickle Toeing or something.  I think they even played the them from the Lion King in the background.  It was a moment.

Then the moment was over.  And there were still five.

OMG.  Best.  Birthday.  Ever.

Until next week.  When this totally happens…

Dat’s rite.

Hold onto your big a** bows and trademarked Sass t-shirts.

Asia‘s in the hizzle, bitches.


Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: It Was A Downtown Hoedown And Wild West Showdown. Let The Cow Pie Fly.

Wednesday, October 23rd, 2013




Girrrl, pleez. I got some friends in low places, but I never seen dancing that ratchet. MmmMmm.






And then Rachelle stood up in those booty shorts. Thank you Lawd that it’s already 5 o’clock somewhere. Hit me.






The Devil went down to Pittsburgh and she was lookin’ for a soul to steal. She was in a bind. With a big behind. Willing to make a deal.






Who’s sorry now? I’m talking to you there, cheese steak.







OhHellNo, Blondie. You did NOT just call me a little bit country and a little bit hoagie roll.






Srsly. How old are these songs? Hasn’t anyone ever heard of Justin Bieber?







Bitch, pleez. When you look this good, ain’t nuthin left to do but save a horse and ride a cowboy.




Giddy Up, ya’ll.

Saddle up your horses and muffle your Mamas, because it’s a Wild West Showdown at the AUDC corral.

This week Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition did the Mash.  The Nashville Mash.

And it was a country smash.

After last week’s patriotic flag fest, the switch to a country western theme was a pretty smooth transition.  Not only did it give the gang one more week to burn off any leftover red, white & blue sparkly stuff that may have been laying around the wardrobe room, but it also made for a pretty sneaky segue right into Lifetime’s new Nashville show if you weren’t paying attention.

I mean, one minute Abby Lee Miller was driving a kid outta Dodge and the next thing you knew we were all watching open auditions for Hillbilly Idol.

How did that even happen?  I see what you did there, Lifetime.

But let’s start at the beginning.

The theme:  Country Western.  Hee to the Haw.

The skill:  Jumps.  Bigguns.  And lots of ’em, cowboy.

The chance of seeing Richy Jackson in something fabulously outrageous:  100%.

As the 6 remaining dancers rolled in (…7 if you count The Return Of The JoJo Bow…) they were all greeted by Abby and her red bandana.

Yup.  Ms. Miller done gone and went country.  I think.

It was actually more of an odd cross between that Rosie the Riveter “We Can Do It” lady and a Costco-sized bottle of Aunt Jemima maple syrup.

You have to be kinda careful how you work a red bandana nowadays.  You just do.  But at least it wasn’t Village People western leather chaps with butt cut-outs.  So there’s that.


After getting clarification on this week’s theme, some of the Moms got pretty excited for a heapin’ helpin’ of country choreography.

McKaylee‘s Mom Shari seemed to be especially over stimulated at the prospect of a hoedown because they had a real live barn in their backyard at home.  Like the kind they have on CMT.  Which she swore would totally give them at least one hind leg up on the competition in the Twerkin’ and Twangin’ and Tuggin’ on Cow Teats category.

Shari has some big eyes.

The mini challenge this week was going to allow the Winning Mom the opportunity to save one person from the ominous Bottom Three on Competition Day, as well as give all the other Moms a chance to kiss butt like it was their day job.  Let the games begin.

Since she was already countryfied in her red bandana and gang tagged graffiti logo tee, Abby was going to stick around and choreograph the mini challenge.  For realz.

Jesus take the wheel if I get to see Abby Lee Miller jump in the air.

Just take it.  And then back it up over me, because I’ll be dead already.

After sending the kids off to grab the cowboy hats she forgot backstage, Abby showed them all how it’s done down on the farm.  On whatever farm it is where you get two national television shows about dancing and never have to actually dance on national television.  Ever.

That farm.

But more power to her.  It must be some kind of dancing telepathy or something, because the kids all figured out exactly what to do even though Abby just wobbled around a little like those inflatable whacky waving hand balloons you see down at the Music City car dealership.  Come on down!  Our prices are insane!

Some of the kids embraced their inner redneck.  Some didn’t.

JoJo, have a seat, please.  You know where it is by now.

Poor Giaaaaanna needs to either start dancing within an invisible electric dog fence or get GPS attached to her ankle, because that girl is eventually going to wander off stage and never be heard from again.  I lost count of how many times Abby screamed at her for not being in the same zip code as the rest of the dancers.


After weeding out the weak like you do before a cattle auction begins, Abby ended up with Travis, Trinity and Kalani all standing around looking at each other in straw hats.

Time for a Jump Off!

(I’m not even gonna tell you what I thought she said.  And with the kids in the room.)

Trinity knocked out a ceiling tile and ended up winning her umpteenth challenge, which meant that Mom Tina was going to end up in therapy again for bashing yet another child’s hopes and dreams.  Just the thought of having to leave two tiny dancers hanging on for dear life by the end of the episode made a little more crazy leak out of Tina’s head.

She makes me smile.

JoJo and Trinity were paired up in an American Spirit duet choreographed by Tarua Hall, which gave them both a chance to whip each other with those annoying ribbons that have been used during every Macy’s Parade and Olympic Opening Ceremony since 776 BC.

It also gave JoJo’s Mom Jessalynn the chance to kiss up to Tina like she was sucking the chrome off a trailer hitch.  You go, Girl.  Pull out the big guns.

Side note:  I don’t know if they film this show out of sequence or all in one day or what’s going on.  Dunno.  But Tarua has been wearing the same thing for 8 weeks.  I don’t know if we’re being scammed by Lifetime or if Miss T just likes that fur collar.

But it doesn’t really matter, because she is a hoot and will f*** you up if you can’t stay on the 8 count.  You don’t want her to take off her glasses, honey.  No you don’t.

Next door, Kalani and her coin operated riding bull saddle contraption were working up a sweat, Rhinestone Cowgirl solo style.  Well, shoooot.  Can we just agree this little bitch got Fierce since last week?  So Fierce that choreographer Matt Cady was hiding behind Mom Kira on the couch.  Werk.

Giaaaaanna also scored a solo and was back with Tarua and her fur collar to learn how to be Nashville’s Sweetheart.  I don’t really know what happened during that rehearsal because I was too busy watching Mom Cindy spread out in her comfy chair like a Boss.

She’s from Philly, you know.

Last but not least, there was a Wild West Showdown going down crosstown with Travis and McKaylee, courtesy of choreographer Victor Rojas.


I’m dying to say something about his retro star spangled satin warm-up jacket and how I totally remember him from when the Harlem Globetrotters crash landed on Gilligan’s Island, but Victor danced with Janet Jackson and I really need an in with her…so he gets a pass this time.

Victor, I salute you.  And that snappy track suit with the pockets big enough to carry eight-track cartridges down to the discotheque.  Keeping It Real and Staying Alive, dude.

Back in the Hot Glue Room, the Moms were Blinging and BeDazzling when Jessalynn asked Cindy why she felt the need to always talk shizzle about her daughter Honey Bow Bow.  She asked her that.  Right there.

OhNoSheDin’t.  YesSheDid.

On an aside, Cindy told us that she didn’t say anything that she wouldn’t say right to a Mom’s face.  Or in line at Walmart when your card gets declined.  Or in the parking lot at Walmart when you ding her car with your cart full of bulk snacks.  Or in the restroom at IHOP.  Or in the middle of a funeral if you’re taking too long in line.

She’s from…well, you know by now.

The whole confrontation exploded into a bunch of (bleeped) out Mob Wives mouth pixelation (…they must share the same Dance Moms Bleeper Blur Guy who has to follow Jill Vertes around all day…) and then ended with Cindy trying to imitate JoJo’s sassiness, which awkwardly looked more like the shakes you get when your blood sugar drops too fast than any actual booty popping.

Sit down, Philly.  Have some apple juice before you black out.

When it was all over, it was no Kristie Ray vs. Yvette Watts.  But it was fun to watch, which Kira and Sheryl did from the other side of the table while everyone else multitasked their aggression.

OhHellNo.  I’m not getting Crazy Glue on my acrylics.  Not happening.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And Casual Friday, I guess.

My boy Kevin Manno had ditched his signature skinny suit and opted for some country cool this week.  A vest and string tie and a pair of those high heeled boy boots that you shouldn’t wear unless you’re on Dancing With The Stars.  The ones that are half cowboy and half not cowboy.



Abby had a Halloween sheriff’s badge pinned to her junk and Rachelle Rak seemed to be fairly low key for someone who’s middle name is ‘Sas.’

(Spoiler Alert:  I was wrong on that one.)

Richy was oozing Pink Flamingo Realness and iParty Straw Hat Couture and totally deserved an abundance of glam photos in this week’s recap.  When I finally go Vegas Showgirl hunting in the woods of Nashville, you know I’m hitting him up for some camo so I blend in with my surroundings.

Backstage, Jessalynn got all Mean Girls In The Bathroom with JoJo as they both discussed how to dispose of Cindy’s body behind the building after the competition, speaking just loud enough to assure that Giaaaaanna and her Mom could hear every word.

Psych.  Mind Games.

Trinity and JoJo’s ribbon dance went pretty well until the end.  Trinity clearly smoked JoJo in the routine with her Asia Monet Ray Face and dominatrix ribbon snaps.  At least until JoJo’s ribbon got tangled up with hers at the every end of the dance.

Or did it?  It’s a question that may never be answered.

Sheriff Abby told JoJo that ‘cute’ was over and had left the building.  It was time to dance from the neck down.

Backstage, if Cindy could have mustered the willpower to stand up, I’m certain she would have done The Wave like they do at football games.

Cindy’s my name.  Couch Slouchin’s my game.  Go Philly.

JoJo cried when she got off stage.  That made me sad.  In doses slightly smaller than her hair bows, I don’t mind the little spark plug.  She’s still growing on me.  Kinda.

Kalani hit the stage and rode her age-inappropriate saddle gear like some kind of schoolgirl Beyoncé as she whipped her lasso and hair around like one of those hotel pay-per-views.  Dang, Girl.

Richy stood up and gave her the finger.  And then Rachelle stood up and I realized that I was wrong about her subdued ensemble.  So wrong.

More like a fringed bra and booty shorts with some other patriotic stuff happening down there under the table at the kuntry stoe.  The Rak wished that she had worn a hair clip just so she could rip it out and get her freak on right there in front of everyone.


PS.  Today’s outfit brought to you by the fine folks down at Boom Boom & Pow.  With 20 locations in the metro area, there’s sure to be one by you.  And if not, just wear your daughter’s shorts after she leaves for school.

Work it.  Want it.  Own it.  And then wash it, please.

Srsly.  Rachelle is so full  of Rachelle that you can’t help but love her.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Rachelle’s soul suddenly jumped into Richy’s body through his wide open mouth and he popped up out of his seat, threw himself upside down on the desk like one of those music videos they only show after 11pm and almost made Abbby have a cigarette.

Next up, Travis and McKaylee did their dueling gun fight down at the saloon.

McKaylee was too tall and Travis looked like that Toy Story cowboy who always fell down every time a real human being walked into the room.

There was some discussion amongst the judges as to whether Woody should have jumped higher than McKaylee since he was a real boy now, but we never got the final call on that one.

To finish us off, Giaaaaanna sat on a front porch rocking chair and picked at a guitar while Pa whittled something out of a stick until some city slicker got too close to the farm and then she catapulted herself into the air and went for her shotgun.  Her dance was really not that bad, but she wore those ace bandage-y cheat feet shoes that didn’t match her skin tone and it was all downhill to the mud bog from there.

When it was all said and done for the week, JoJo, Travis and Gianna were in the Bottom Three.  Tina had a minor aneurysm and then saved Giaaaaanna from elimination.

Jessalynn gave what was probably the best Side Eye glance in the history of all Reality TV and then Travis got sent home to merge with his Power Twin Tyler in the hopes of regaining his weakening strength.

So basically, not only does Tina now need more therapy after this week’s competition, but she also has to sleep with the light on.  I wouldn’t want to be on Jessalynn’s bad side.  Would you?  Imagine waking up with JoJo staring down at you.

As Travis and Sheryl headed out of Dodge, the remaining cowgirls all headed to the AUDC saloon for some juice boxes and straight bourbon.

And then there were five.


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.


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