Posts Tagged ‘Reality TV Recap’

Toddlers & Tiaras: When It’s Nothing But Prehistoric Pixie Stix And Bedrock Bling, It’s The Starz N Glitz Stone Age.

Thursday, July 4th, 2013




Mama’s just about to show Mr. Tony some Stone Age Realness and drag that fine piece of meat back to my cave. Dang.






What’s it gonna be, people? A crown on the head or a pie in the face? Figure it out, cuz Bozo ain’t playing tonight.






Pucker up, Baby Doll. Time to show them bitches how we get it done.







You might wanna hold on to your Big Girl Panties back there, Honey. Tony T-Rex is here, and I’m wearing Armani.






What a rip. The stupid crowns look way bigger on TV. Total crap. I quit!






These camera lights are way too hot. You know I specifically requested that my boogers and 64 oz. Mountain Dew always be served at room temperature.





Lawd, please stop me from throwing that tiny a** crown and about five of these damn people right out that kitchen window. I just can’t.




Yabba Dabba Glitter Glue.

If you like it, then you better put a bone in it.

Your hair, that is.  And you should probably stick a flipper in your mouth while you’re at it, because it’s time to walk those prehistoric pretty feet all the way back to the Paleolithic Pageant Era and see how they booty popped on hot lava.

Toddlers & Tiaras turned back the clock this week with a dinosaur-sized Starz N Glitz extravaganza, aptly titled the Queen of the Stone Age Pageant.  And it was everything that we’ve come to expect from my girl Cray Cray Carla.

You remember Pageant Director Carla Smith.  I know you do.  How could you not?

The last time we saw Carla was at that fiesta-themed pageant, where she was getting her burritos all in a bunch over dreamboat emcee Mr. Tony.  She wanted him for her boyfriend, and would do just about anything to whack that fine piece of piñata hard enough to make some sweet candy come pouring out on date night.

No lie.  I could probably watch Carla school girl giggle and smiley squint over Mr. Tony all day.

It would be like being back in study hall listening to that generic Big Girl BFF that everybody knew talk about the latest Channing Tatum movie until she couldn’t breath without her inhaler.  You know she practices writing her married name in the back of her notebook.

Love me some Carla.  And as I mentioned the last time, she is officially the designated driver when Pageant Director Annette Hill and I go out klubbin’, mainly because I can’t even imagine Carla with booze in her mouth.  Cray to the umpteenth power of Cray.

Clearly, Carla had seen Mr. Tony’s Facebook page the day he mentioned that he was hot for brunettes, because she was now rocking the same sultry shade of Desperate Housewives that’s on the Eva Longoria L’Oréal box at Walgreen’s.

Even Carla’s whacky Baby Goes To Communion hairpiece had gotten an HD technicolor upgrade for 2013.  Not to mention her new Dance Moms Bare Minerals makeup.  You could literally pause your DVR while Carla was talking and adjust every one of the 5,000 Panasonic colors on your TV screen without having to run the set-up program.


She’s gonna break some hearts, and put the Best Buy Geek Squad out of business at the same time, if she’s not careful.  Pump your brakes, Girlfriend.

Carla explained how the pageant was going to work, and then explained how cubic zirconia rhinestones were actually created from erupting volcanoes on the same day that all the dinosaurs died.  Really.

I guess if you can believe that Eva Longoria actually does her own hair in the kitchen sink, then magical prehistoric rhinestones aren’t really that much of a stretch.

Our first tiny contestant was 2 year old Charli, Mom Samantha and a potential new candidate for coolest pageant Dad..evah…Evan.

As Mom rambled on and on about her little DIT (…Diva In Training, duh…) and Charli’s surfer dude brother wandered in and out of every camera shot, I was momentarily blinded by not only the awesomeness of her Dad but also the awesome neon tee shirt warning all of America about all that awesomeness.

Too late.  My eyes.

Evan wanted to be Pageant Dad of the Millennium or something, and stands a pretty good chance of snagging that trophy right out from under Ava Perez‘s crazy sewing machine Dad the next time Mr. Perez gets all distracted by one of his now infamous needle threading Drama Queen meltdowns.

Is David still out there somewhere?  (No pun intended, of course.)

Whereas Ava’s Dad is just straight up (…no pun intended, again…) Liberace Fabulous, Charli’s Dad is pretty Home Depot Normal despite his penchant for wearing pint-sized tiaras and busting out uncomfortably spot-on imitations of 3 year old girls coming down from a chemically induced sugar buzz.

Oh.  And their sissy dog used to do pageants, too.  Little sissy dog pageants, complete with little sissy dog outfits.  And he even had a little sissy dog wiglet that clamped on his head like a dorm desk light, which must come in real handy when he’s all alone at night licking his non-existent nibblies in horrified shame.

The dog, I mean.

The next little princess was an All-Cap SpellCheck nightmare, thanks to 2 year old Maddisyn-Rae and her Mom TreShanda.


(Almost that entire sentence just got underlined in red by my computer, thank you.)

Maddi Moo Moo and Mom Mom lived with Baby Daddy/Boyfriend Michael Michael in the same house with Michael’s parents Antonia and Harvey, some cousins or sisters (…I forget…) as well as another baby or two, some stragglers and at least three of the guys from Bel Biv Devoe.

Fo’ realz.  That hizzle was packed to the fo’ shizzle with people.  And the whole reason that Mom Mom and Mike Mike moved in was so they didn’t have to pay Rent Rent and could spend their money on Moo Moo’s pageants and designer dinosaur costumes.

I know, right?  Shut the front door.  Or sign me up…and then shut the front door.  If it even shuts with all those people wedged up against it from the other side, I mean.

Maddi was a cutie, and looked exactly like Aretha Franklin would look like if you washed her and then left her in the dryer too long.

That’s also probably why the Motown label always said you should hang your Divas out to dry.  If Maddi wasn’t so busy eating everything that she could scoop out of her nose, I’m sure she would have done a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T, but the nasal nosh went on for the entire hour so no songs tonight.  Sorry.

Maybe she can sing the theme song for the television show that TLC better be developing for her grandparents, who were HIGHsterical.  (If I had a penny for every time someone told me “That tail looks like a jalapeño pepper !” I’d be a rich man.)

Grandpa made me spit my drink out a few times and wish that Sanford & Sons was still on cable.  If there’s any room left, I need to live with that family.  They were that funny.

The third and final Stone Age wannabe was 3 year old Savannah and Barnum & Bailey Mom Natasha.

Seriously.  If you still have Clown on the Toilet nightmares like I do, this episode probably set you back at least 6 months in electro-shock therapy.


All Savannah really wanted to do was play hockey with Dad Andrew and his crazy gelled-up hair (…or was that the longest mullet ever?..) but since Mom had taken on a second job to pay for pageants, being a goalie was going to have to wait until the balloon animal job market dried up.

Snakes on a Plane.  Clowns in the Bathroom.  Whatev.  I don’t want to see either of them reflected in the vanity mirror while I’m doing my bidnezz.

As for Stone Age props, the local mall didn’t leave much to the imagination, so Charli and her family went dumpster diving for parts to build a Flintstone car.  Like the one you move with your feet while balancing a gigantic dinosaur sparerib on the roof.

That car.  With a hole in the roof for Dino‘s head.

If Evan really wants to be Pageant Dad of the Universe he needs to either stop sweating so much, or stop showing us how much he sweats.  Wet or not, though, he’s still a riot.

(Spoiler Alert:  I don’t know what back alley trash heap they climbed into, but that Flintstone car looked exactly like the real Flintstone car after it was built.  It’s like they dug through the actual Flintstone’s trash cans just to make a fake Flintstone car.)

Back at Maddisyn-Rae’s house, Mom was losing her nutty over a specially designed dinosaur costume that arrived just in time for the pageant, but unfortunately didn’t fit.

Who knew boogers were so fattening?  Portion control.  That’s all I’m saying.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And Dreamboat Mr. Tony Time!

Carla’s fantasy lover was back to work the room, styling in his pinstripes and hotel lounge swagger.  If some of those Pageant Moms had actually been wearing bras, they would have totally taken them off and thrown them at the podium.  True dat.

I love you Mr. Tony!!!!!  Have my pageant baby!!!!!

T&T Drinking Game Alert:  Take a shot every time Carla walks behind Mr. Tony’s well sculpted gym butt while he’s trying to work.  Oh, yeah.  Mama likes.


All three of our little contestants had a few seizures before going on stage.  Maddi and Charli cried so loudly that my downstairs neighbors pounded on their ceiling for me to shut my kids up, while Savannah kept going into a silent WishIWasPlayingHockey zombie-like state.

Must.  Play.  Hockey.  Now.

Side note:  I swear I saw some random non-pageant kid drinking from a flask.  Straight up.  No chaser.  Please tell me that someone else saw that.

Apparently, Maddi Boo Boo can’t go on stage without Mike Mike waving a stuffed animal (…also coincidentally named Boo…singular…) behind the judges.  So leaving it packed in the car probably wasn’t his best move that day, nor was his casual stroll out to the parking lot to retrieve the dog.  We’re in Crisis Mode, dude.  Pick it up a little.

Grandma Antonia gave yet another example of why she needs her own television show by going totz bonkers during Maddi’s performance.  If it was me, instead of that wide eyed judge who looked like one of the neighbors on Green Acres, I would have scoffed up one of those pink crowns when no one was looking and handed it to Grandma just for that crazy dance.

Savannah’s flipper fell on the floor and sent Clown Mom into a tail spin as she raced to wash it off before Tony Suavé called her number up on stage.

Really?  You make balloon animals that kids suck on for the entire length of the circus, but you can’t allow the Five Second Rule to go into effect just this once so we don’t hold up an entire ballroom?  Plus, I know  for a fact that you bite the end of those long skinny ones and stretch them out before you even blow them up into pirate swords.

That other kid on stage eats her own boogers, ferchrissake.  I don’t think a little rug fuzz is gonna put your kid in ICU.  Relax.


Stone Age Wear was exactly what you would expect.  Lots of Pebbles Flintstone and animal print.

Charli squealed on stage with her dumpster car, clearly moving faster than Maddi, who just stood there in a fog.  I feel your pain, sister.  I can barely brush my teeth after a nap, much less work a stage.

Savannah shook up the theme by dressing all in leaves and performing as Eve, even though she looked more like Poison Ivy from the Batman movie.  But it was really cute, even though she was 78% fake hair.  I think she got extra points from at least one judge for not falling over under the weight of all the weave Mom pinned on her little skull.

Then some kids won some stuff.

But not Maddi Moo Moo.  Nope Nope.  Just Runner-Up.  Not even a crown to throw out the damn window.

Yeah.  Mom was not happy.

Charli won pint sized Queen and then had another meltdown.  This time her hair went just as spaz as her brain.

Savannah won Mini Supreme, which made Mom smile a real smile and not just a fake clown smile.

Mama don’t dress up as no clown just for runner-up, bitches.  Mmmkay?

And then, while everyone was distracted by what appeared to be some 42 year old woman winning the Ultimate Grand Supreme title, Evan raided the prize table, piled on as many tiaras and sashes as he could at one time and then shot out the side door before Security could even get the crowns off his head.

Wilma, we’re outta here.  Flintstone feet, don’t fail me now.

Yup.  It’s good to be Pageant Dad of a Modern Stone Age Family.

Yabba Dabba Doo!


Toddlers & Tiaras: Who’s Saree Now? It’s Time To Pop In Your Flipper And Sing A Glitzy Hurray For Bollywood.

Friday, June 28th, 2013




Seriously, people? It’s Bollywood, not the Lone Ranger. How ’bout you all Google it before you show up on a damn horse next time?






Bitch, I know you’re not tugging on my weave while I’m choking to death on this plastic tooth.







Lawd, I’m tired. Last night I had a dream I was named after some really thick Kardashian girl.







What The Hell am I supposed to do with this piece of tin?







Soldier Down in the lobby. I repeat: We have a blue Persian Parrot Down in the lobby. Send backup.







Don’t look at me. They wouldn’t even let me bring my rifle inside. But hunting’s pretty sweet, Bro.







I swear I’m either gonna break some water or some gawd dang diva skulls in about two minutes.




Here we go again.

Pageant Time.

Time for Toddlers & Tiaras to check off another chunk of crazy on that BeDazzled Bucket List.  But what could they possibly come up with next?

The new season has only been around for about three weeks and we’ve already come face to face with fierce drag queen judges, lesbians and non-lesbians throwing down in hotel lobbies…and the mother of all Hood Rat muthas.  (Shout out to Englewood!)

Is nothing sacred?

Not really.  Except maybe the cows in India.

Oooh.  Good idea, dude.

And that’s probably pretty much how the Glitter Girls Bollywood Pageant was born.

After a quick introduction, Pageant Directah (…that’s how she said it…) Tasha Land explained how this whole Indian themed thing was going to go play out this week.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember seeing Tasha on T&T before now.

I’m not saying she’s never been on the show.  I just don’t remember.  I’m pretty sure that I do remember seeing her slap a bitch down on Oxygen’s Bad Girl’s Club and throw another bitch’s suitcase over a balcony railing while screaming something that got (bleeped) out on the audio track.  I could be mistaken.  But I doubt it.

Regardless of where I’ve seen her, Tasha was a hoot.

She was totally the kind of brassy sassy girl that you always hear on the midtown bus screaming into her blinged out cellphone, starting and ending every sentence with “Gurrrl.  Just.  Shut.  Up.” and then laughing so hard that one Sephora eyelash falls off and her purse dumps upside down on the floor.

She needs to go on the Wendy Williams Show asap.

Two minutes into the episode and Tasha already knew that she was in over her head since not one Pageant Mom had taken the time to read her Facebook explanation of what the word Bollywood actually meant, and now they were all rushing to iParty to buy the wrong costumes.


Indian doesn’t always mean we’re having guests over for Thanksgiving, people.

Without crossing into Paula Deen territory, Tasha delicately tried to explain the difference between feathers on your head and that movie where the kid won a buttload of money on Who Wants To Be  A Millionaire?  She had absolutely no idea what to expect at her pageant, so it was easier to just laugh really loudly and flip her weave.

She’s a hoot, and is now officially invited to join Annette Hill and me when we book that T&T party bus and get kicked out of a Texas bar.

Gurrrl.  Just.  Shut.  Up.

Our first little contestant this week was 2 year old Khloe and Mom Abby.

Holy crap can Abby smile.  Like all the time.  Even when she’s a stress bag.

She reminded me of those bubbly bank tellers who always get reprimanded for holding up their line by chit chatting and giggling with every customer instead of just giving them their balance and sending them on their way.  I like happy people, so she scored some bonus points right away.

Which I immediately took back, because Mom had named her precious little squirt of a baby after Khloe Kardashian.

Yeah.  That Khloe.  Let that one sink in for a minute.

Hi, Grandma.  Here’s my new baby girl that I named after some big, loud coat tail riding fame whore who is only famous because her big, loud fame whore sister has a big a** and got caught doing a sex tape and has a baby out of wedlock with a Dbag rapper and now somehow makes a katrillion dollars selling hoochie dresses at Sears.

Wanna hold her?

Mom then listed all the Supreme titles that Khloe (…the little one, not the big one…) had won up to this point.  All of them.

Mega Supreme.  Ultra Supreme.  Face Supreme.  Super Über Supreme.  Mega Ultra Super Über Face Supreme.  Diana Ross & The Supremes.

All of them.  She didn’t miss one.

And to make it even more entertaining, Khloe was a screamer.  Not a scaredy cat screamer.  Or Boogie Man under the bed screamer.  Just a screamer.

Question: How old are you?  Answer:  AAAAAAAUUUGGGHHH!

That kid was so cute.


The second princess was 6 year old Ma’Leeh and Mom Garriel.  And they came packaged with a bonus gift with purchase princess, tiny 2 year old sister Nadia.

Mom was about 23 months pregnant and not moving too quickly.  Ma’Leeh was dramatically laying face down on the teeter totter with no friends while Nadia dingle dangled aimlessly on a swing set.

This family is clearly not known for their speed or sense of urgency.

Mom fessed up to being the Lazy Queen and to blatantly playing favorites with her daughters.  Nadia was her favorite.  The other one, What’sHerName, not so much.

If Nadia was crying or pouting, Mom explained that she would drop everything and run to her rescue.

If Ma’Leeh was crying or pouting, Mom would just drop her.  On her head, probably.

When an army guy in fatigues came out of nowhere and swooped in to snatch up one of the kids, I thought it was some kind of Child Services military training but it turned out to just be Dad Marcus in his uniform.

False alarm.

And finally, we met Honey Boo Boo Child 2.0…the Glitzy Hillbilly known as 4 year old Brooklyn and her Mom Sabrina.

It was like someone had come in and cleaned up Alana and her family just enough so they could go to fancier restaurants.  Mom had some of last year’s streaky highlights in her hair and Brooklyn had a stupidly cute face which she used to her full advantage.

Because only a cutie patootie face lets you get away with cutie patootie tooties in the middle of a television interview.

Toots.  Honks.  Farts.  Let’s call a spade a spade, shall we?

Get it out of your (…intestinal…) system before high school or it ain’t gonna be pretty at the prom, sister.  But for right now, as long as I’m not the one driving her to preschool in a car with the windows rolled up, I guess we’ll cut her a little slack.

But just one.  Cut one, so to speak.  See how I did that?


Brooklyn had been retired for a whopping four months, basically because she started losing pageant and decided to bail.  Mom called it retiring.  My Mom called it quitting.

Tomato.  Tomahhhhto.  Whatev.

Dad Kyle thought the whole pageant thing was a waste of time, and was way more interested in the dead hog laying in the back of the pickup truck.  Somebody’s having bacon with their eggs tomorrow.

He also randomly picked the age of 24 for the day when you kill your first grizzly or deer or elusive sasquatch and bring it home and your ex-pageant wife just sits there watching The Chew instead of offering to help hoist it up onto the garage door and slit its throat.

Because that’s what happens when you do pageants.  You wear makeup and watch TV all day.  Kyle said it, so it must be gospel.

Back at Ma’Leeh’s (…that’s a lot of apostrophes…) house, Mom was laying on the couch rubbing her SuperPregger belly and freaking out that Ma’Leeh had a loose tooth that was going to cost her the crown.  Even in Bollywood you either need two front teeth or a flipper.  And Ma’Leeh was at risk of having neither at the moment.

Luckily, Dad came to the rescue.  If you can pull a piece of shrapnel out of your buddy inside a moving tank with just your bare hands and a paper clip, I guess ripping a tooth right out of your daughter’s skull isn’t really much of a challenge.

Close your eyes.  Think about unicorns.  Boom.  Done.  Now go stick it under your pillow.  Daddy loves you.

While Ma’Leeh was bleeding out, Brooklyn was back at the lodge trying to learn how to do that Indian dance they do every season on So You Think You Can Dance.  As Coach Lindsay Ray Wright tried to bluff her way through some finger snaps, Mom voiced her concern that every girl was going to look the same at the pageant because they would all be wearing Sorries.  Or Saris.  Or what are they called again?

And then she just blankly looked back and forth as if some Indian woman was suddenly going to randomly pass through the living room on her way to Kala Ghoda.

(Google it.  I had to.)

Khloe was going to be dressed as a persian parrot for the Bollywood Outfit portion of the pageant because I guess they have a lot of persian parrots in India.  Who knew?  But she was too tired to care.  All that screaming wears a girl out.


Poor thing barely had the strength to blow enough baby snot out of her baby nose to patch all the sheet rock in the nursery before she konked out for the night.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Tasha still had no idea what was going to happen and instead chose to just flip dat weave one mo’ time and prepare herself for the most ridiculous thing ever, which may be the tag line for Glitter Girls Pageants for all I know.

Love.  Her.

For the Beauty portion, the little Kardashian Kid had a meltdown.  She was tired.  Lawd, she was tired.  And cranky.  Brooklyn chose to shake her tootie booty at the judges and then just sulk on stage with her arms crossed like something was wrong in her dressing room.  Divas to the Dance Floor.

Favorite daughter Nadia took up all of Mom’s time in hair and makeup, so Dad had to go up on stage with her while Ma’Leeh got 30 seconds of attention in their hotel room.  As Mom raced through the process with a scalding curling iron, Ma’Leeh almost gagged herself unconscious with her snazzy new one tooth flipper until Grandma let her spit it out all covered in what looked like more of Khloe’s nose goo.

Gross.  I know it wasn’t, but it totally could have been.  That was at 10:26am if anyone is keeping track, because Mom said so.

After racing to the stage, Ma’Leeh rushed through her beauty walk and got scolded by Mom, who was now 36 months pregnant and not in the mood.  She could have cared less how her daughter felt.  She even said that.

Dad said that Mom should criticize the kids in a productive way, which I guess is different than a constructive way…and then it was Bollywood Time!

Khloe was now officially exhausted, and slipped out of Mom’s grip like a Slinky going down a flight of stairs and fell asleep on the lobby floor.  I mean, fell asleep in less than one second. Like a Spring Break blackout or something.  For realz.  I was kind of jealous.

Trust me, Girlfriend.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been face down in a hotel lobby wearing sequins and smeared lipstick.  Been there.  Done that.  But I’ve never been able to fall asleep with all those people checking in and rolling luggage over my head.

Totz jealz.

And that was a joke, by the way.



Abby managed to shake Khloe awake long enough to carry her up on stage so she could act like a baby who had just been shaken awake.  NASA, we have lift off.  And simultaneous meltdown off all our protective shields.  This flight is so over.

Brooklyn looked like a gypsy prostitute.  Mom’s words, not mine.  Ma’Leeh werked the stage like Beyoncé on some kind of curry high and then ignored Mom by sitting alone in front of the stage.

Mom cried when she realized her least favorite daughter didn’t need her anymore.

Totally unrelated to the story was this random tiny potato sack of a baby dressed in Indian clothes that some Dad was boinging around the stage like she was on a yo-yo string until he finally sat her down on the cutest stuffed elephant pull toy evah.  I don’t even know who that was, but it was a scream.  Five point bonus.

Then some kids won some stuff.  None of our three won the Big Dawg though, and for the most part it didn’t go over very well.

Brooklyn was happy enough with Mini Grand Supreme, and actually seemed more concerned about leaving to go eat freshly slaughtered bacon with Daddy and throw that freaked out cat of hers down the play slide one more time.

Seriously.  Did you see that at the beginning of the show?  PETA on line 2 for Brooklyn.

Khloe had meltdown #786 while Ma’Leeh walked away to the accompaniment of the saddest guitar music every played on Lifetime TV.  And that includes all the Jane Seymour movies on the normal channel and the movie channel.

She was jealous of the winner.  She was jealous of her sister.  She was jealous of everything.  And she was missing a tooth on top of it.  Sucks.

And then it was over.

Say goodbye to Bollywood, little Kardashian.

And gesundheit.


Dance Moms: They Say That There’s No Room For Any Rotten Apples, But Cathy Just Hijacked The Show Again.

Wednesday, June 26th, 2013

2Don’t touch that dial or adjust your television set.

You’re not on the wrong channel.

The show formally known as Dance Moms was back again this week.  Sorta.

Or as I like to call it…the second installment of the Candy Apples Variety Show was back again this week.

Due to the combination of somebody in the Lifetime back offices having some noticeably poor planning and organizational skills when it comes to juggling two different Abby Lee Miller show tapings, and someone else’s hot mess of an idea to blatantly cross promote the two shows as long as there’s leftover B-Roll, America was once again subjected to a full hour of commercials for Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.

And the Ohio Department of Tourism, of course.

That should explain your confusion if you tuned in after the opening credits.

It probably also explains the slowdown in your internet speed, because not since that North by NorthWest Kardashian Baby popped out last week has the Twitterverse encountered such a firestorm of opinion.

If you were looking for…I don’t know…the actual Dance Moms this week, you came to the wrong place.  This was Candy Apples territory.  Again.

And all those little tweeny boppers who made the switch from Pretty Little Liars to Lifetime weren’t happy at all.

Now I’m all about good marketing and promoting your shiz so we all remember to reset our DVRs when Dance Moms finishes up the season.  I get it.

My biggest concern is that by the time we get back to Pittsburgh and the ALDC, these kids who have been MIA for the majority of this month are probably going to have already graduated college and gotten jobs in summer stock theater somewhere.

What if they don’t even have braces anymore?

And don’t even get me started on two weeks without my girl Kristie Ray.

Not acceptable.

I expect a call from Lifetime explaining how they plan to make up for this error, and what I’m supposed to do with all these “I Heart Kristie” t-shirts I was planning to put up on eBay today.  I even used glitter glue, fercryinoutloud.

Clearly I should just put her face on a milk carton and hope someone has seen her wandering the cold, lonely streets of PA looking for the ALDC cameras.

Don’t get me wrong.  We love the conflict and hissy fits and water fights between Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein and the Moms.  But a full hour?  Twice?

It was called Batman & Robin for a reason. Not The Penguin Show.

So according to my dedicated online research, which could potentially get me flagged as a creeper if anyone actually knew which chat rooms I checked up on after the show (…I used to read books, you know. Now I just make sure to delete my laptop history and go to bed…) it’s clear that the majority of you did some channel surfing during the episode.

And despite all the Moms, and one DadMom, being 2nd string this week…there were still a few chuckles.  And you know I like the chuckles.

So I give you the Pittsburgh Quickie.


All the highlights that you may have missed while you were complaining online somewhere or checking in with that Spice Girl on America’s Got Talent.

And, yes…little Sophia Lucia was even spotted on AGT spinning around behind the curtains.  How many more stages does that little kid really need to pee on before she marks her turf in all fifty states?

But I digress.

We’re here to catch up on Dance Moms in under 5 minutes.

As soon as we saw that Chaos Cathy had created a whole new agriculturally friendly Pyramid Video in Photoshop, we knew she meant business this week.  Now she just needs to have all the kids get some new headshots so she doesn’t have to keep using those creepy Facebook selfies.

Cathy and Anthony Burrell continued to butt heads all week as they prepped for the Masters of Dance competition on local docal Columbus, Ohio.  He was trying to take over as the new Candy Apple King and she wasn’t having it.  Even his constant celebrity resumé name dropping didn’t phase Cathy.  Or me.

Anthony also wanted the boys to do push ups without wetting themselves while the girls just stood around putting on makeup and talking about the lines at Sephora.

Or something like that.

Jalen’s Dad Rick called the MomCouch the “Kiss And Cry Room” which was slightly ironic, since he’s the only one who ever cries in there.  Man Up, dude.

The highlight this week was pretty much Cathy and sluggish Vivi-Anne spending some quality bonding time categorizing the 4,000 bunny statues and bunny wreaths and bunny figurines and bunny KitchenAid appliances that Cathy had crammed into her home.  Just.  Whoa.  Say NO to the bunny.

If those things ever came to life, it would be Planet of the Apes all over again.

Bunny Hoarders.  Coming this Fall to Lifetime.

The group routine was a full-on ecstasy induced Klub Kid Studio 54 routine set to the music of scenester Malik So Chic.

Bitch, please.

If you were out of the room you also missed some headwear drama when Hadley‘s little neck couldn’t support the massive Lion King accessory that Anthony had chosen for her tribal duet with Nick #2.  Who goes into a performance without a dress rehearsal?

Let’s be honest.  I don’t even go to the mall without walking around my house once or twice to make sure I look good from all angles in the Food Court.  Geez Louise.

Then some kids danced.

Amidst all the AUDC promos and sniplets of Maddie performing on the finale show, they even won some stuff.

I’m assuming that Mom Melissa must have been at Bloomingdales during the AUDC filming, because we never saw her face even once while Maddie rolled around on the floor in front of two fingered Richy Jackson and that Broadway Flashdance lady.

You remember Maddie, right?  She used to be on Dance Moms?

Oh, snap.  I went there.

And now you’re caught up.

I appears that after a quirky Oprah-looking Chatter Show next week we might finally get back to our normal drama filled hilarity at the ALDC.  Keep your fingers crossed and save those tears for your pillow.

Yeah.  I’m talking to you, Rick.

But until then, in the words of that trashy girl in high school…

Enjoy your quickie.  The first one’s free.

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