Posts Tagged ‘Reality TV Recap’

Toddlers & Tiaras: Shut The Air Lock And Shut It Down, Girl. It’s Universal Royalty’s Queen Of The Galaxy.

Friday, June 14th, 2013




How ’bout you little nuggets grab a juice box and let Mama show you how it’s done, mmmkay?






Lawd give me the strength to not pop off on that child and to not break a hip in the 2016 Olympic gymnastic trials.







I see dead people…and the CEO of Pixar telling me to dress like Buzz Lightyear. And a Hooters Girl.






She better not be pointing at me or I’ll kick that tiny a** to Infinity and Beyond.








Twerkin’ by the mats. Go NeNe.







Every time a cowbell rings, an angel gets their wings. And a crown, or I’m gonna lay hands on some judge in the lobby.






The continental breakfast was a nice touch, but the free circus hats? Hell, yeah I’m coming back next weekend.



Lawd have mercy.

Put your hands…and your photon laser beam guns…up in the ayah and testify with Toddlers & Tiaras.  Never underestimate the power of prayer and pixie stix.

Can I get an A-Hill?

That’s right.  Annette Hill and the Universal Royalty Beauty Pageant took it to church this week.  Big Time.

Granted, that church was on Pluto, and the choir robes looked a little more like cupcake dresses and Science Fair solar system dioramas…but it was still a religious experience.

It was the Queen of the Galaxy competition and Pageant Director Annette wasted no time in explaining how this rocket was going to be launched into outer space.

Oh, Annette.  Where do I start?  As you know, it’s been well documented over the last few years how much I love me some Annette.

I think it was way back during that Tribute to Motown Pageant that I first realized my girl was off the hook.  That was the episode where someone accidentally popped in a James Brown cd too early and Annette almost had to be airlifted out of the studio in a medical chopper.

Girlfriend does love her Motown.  Werk.

She was cray cray back when she was still rocking that librarian bun and those fancy Joan Rivers readers.  But now that Annette got her hair did and got rid of the chain on her glasses, she’s unstoppable.  When we finally wreck the clubs together, I hope she’s been saving some of that Good Morning America money, because bail ain’t cheap.

The theme was Space.  The Final Frontier and all.  But with glitter instead of stars.

For some reason, Annette hoped that there would be a dancing astronaut, which was such a random statement that it was pretty much perfect.  Plus it gave her a chance to pop her head like like she was about to start a fight in Walmart while a cartoon flying saucer flew across the screen.


TLC…I bow to your awesomeness.

Annette also showed us her Space Face for some reason, which was a delightful combination of a pageant girl pouty face and a Kardashian Instagram selfie.

Our first little contestant was 4 year old Katlyn and Mom Kymberli.  Flashback.

This was not their first trip to Toddlers & Tiaras, and as soon as I recognized Mom I was ’bout to drop down and thank the Lord…but she beat me to it.

Lawd, Mom and Grandma Kelli were pretty much Everything.  Period.

Let’s just say that I hope there’s room in Annette’s SUV, because you know I just found us two more BFF girlfriends for Klub Nite.  They are totally the ones who would make Annette stop the car in the middle of a four lane freeway to pray to Jesus for enough toll money so we could use the express lane.

Everything was Lawd this and Lawd that.

Lawd, help me get this Jane Jetson wig on straight.  Lawd, give me strength to open this damn pickle jar.  Lawd, strawberries are Buy One Get One at Sam’s Club.

You name it.  Just make up a sentence, stick Lawd at the beginning or the end and there you go.

The last time we saw them both getting their gospel on, Kymberli had some crazy a** blonde weave that I’m pretty sure was glued on sideways, but this time around she traded up to a more colorful number that’s a little more on trend for the season.

Imagine Katy Perry and Beyoncé having a Smurf baby Love Child at the VH1 studios and you pretty much know what I’m talking about.

Lawd, that’s some blue hair.

Grandma Kelli, who likes to be called NeNe…as opposed to last week’s Toddler Mom Naye Naye…had that loud Food Court laugh that I love so much.  From a mile away, I tell you.  Even over the Vitamix blender at Smoothie King.  When she’s not trying to text the Lord, NeNe pretty much acts exactly how you would expect a Grandma named NeNe to act.


(Memo to self:  Get a sassy nickname asap.)

There was also another woman sitting on the couch who never talked.  And a dude that I swear was half of Milli Vanilli back in the day.  It was a full house.

Next up was 3 year old Ava and her cute Mom Ashley.  I know she was cute because she said it about a bazillion trillion times.

Ava was a paranormal ghostbuster and liked to shoot zombies, which was fine by Mom, who had already picked out a crop top, Nike high tops and booty shorts for the upcoming Apocalypse.

She said that.

Dad Mark was also living in the house, even though he had already signed the divorce papers and was dating other women.  Awkward much?  His upper lip looked a little sweaty when he tried to explain that one to America.

Sorry Mom, but Ava was also redoinkulously cute in that smiley Asian baby way.

So cute.  And her pageant coach was cute, too.  There was a lot of cute in the hizzle.

Cambrie Littlefield was back!

Unfortunately (…for her, right?…) I’m already committed to Pageant Coach Katie Boyer in my fantasy pageant coach pool, but Cambrie is a close second if Katie breaks one of her pretty feet and goes on the disabled list.

Every time I see Cambrie she looks like she should be in a country music video.  Not the twangy kind, but the Carrie Underwood kind.  With a wind machine, because if that is really all her own hair she must get hate mail from every Mean Girl in Jersey.

Cambrie’s stunningly pretty and nice and I mean, c’mon…anyone who can wear thigh high boots while ghost hunting with a 3 year old deserves to at least sing back up for that guy on The Voice.

The third little princess was 7 year old Iyslah (…Pat, I’d like to buy a vowel…) and Mom Ruby.  All the kids this week were patooties, and Iyslah looked like a mini JLo playing Selena on the Disney Channel.


This was their first Glitz Pageant, so you knew where this one was headed already.  But with some practice, you know Iyslah will nail it.

Her Grandfather was some kind of commissioner or traffic cop or mayor and brought everyone down to city hall for National Iyslah Day.  Watching her speak like a Big Girl to all the town’s elected officials made me smile.  Not as big a smile as hers, but pretty big.  If she doesn’t stick to pageants, you know that Iyslah is going to be the first female sumthin sumthin in that town, because she owned that podium.

You go, girl.

Meanwhile, Pageant Prep was in full swing for Katlyn & Company.  After a drama filled trip to Weaves ‘R Us for an orange Jane Jetson bob, it was off to the gymnastics center to practice her Space Wear routine.

Blah.  Blah.  All that really matters is that Grandma NeNe did a somersault.

Yeah.  That totally happened.

Lawd, have mercy.  It was like a slo-mo version of that “I’ve Fallen And Can’t Get Up” commercial, and it pretty much made my entire year.  Why they felt it necessary to make a grandmother attempt a gymnastic maneuver with that much junk in the trunk, I dunno.

But thank the Lawd they did.

By the time she landed upside down with her legs spread wide up in the air, my cable reception got clearer and now I have free HBO.  I can’t hear it over her laughing and all that thanking Jesus for not rupturing her spleen, but it’s free.

Love.  Them.

While NeNe was doing her splits, Cambrie and Ava were at a pool hall seeing dead people.  I’m not really sure how they ended up at a former brothel turned pool hall, but there are so many pool stick and blue ball jokes I could make right now that my head hurts.

Ava saw some dead people and Cambrie posed by the pool table like she was on the cover of the cd for that music video she should already be starring in.  Don’t make me say it again.


Iyslah’s rehearsal was a little less dramatic, though she did do the same chair dance that I saw them do on the Pussycat Dolls Tour.

Finally, it was Showtime!  Well, after NeNe had to stop the car so Mom could run back in and get the makeup bag she had forgotten, that is.  Lawd, get me some ginkgo biloba before I forget my own name.

So.  Before we go any further.

Annette…you been holding out on me, girl.  Nobody told me that if (…I mean WHEN…) I finally get to judge on Toddlers & Tiaras that I get a free circus hat.  Excuse me?

A free top hat decorated with ostrich feathers and shiny stuff?  Yes, please.

Lawd, those two boy judges.  Just. Lawd.

Anyway.  Annette was all wound up and couldn’t wait to give away a trip to Space Camp.

Umm, yeah.  Hello.  Space Camp.  Forget that gigantic 5 story pink Barbie condo that Tonya Bailey gave away last week.  We’re talking NASA.  Get this prize and you can freakin’ fly over Tonya’s pink house.  Just make sure you wave hello.  She’s a hoot.

Space Camp.  Not gonna lie.  The visual of some tiny little sparkly kid in a cupcake dress bouncing upside down in zero gravity as a stray wiglet floats by like a Star Trek Tribble did make me smirk.

But that prize is sweet.  Totz Jealz.

The Beauty portion of the competition went like they always do, except for the Top Hat Boyz who hated everything.  Not enough bling.  Too poofy.  Not poofy enough.  Too many cowbells.

I just wanted one of those hats.

(Memo to self:  Get a fabulous chapeau to go with your sassy new nickname asap.)

Space Wear is when the party started.

Ava hit the stage as Buzz Lightyear and whipped those airplane wings around so many times I thought she would cross into the hotel’s No-Fly Zone.  Katlyn’s orange wig stayed on her head during her front roll, which nobody thought would happen, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.


Thank the Lord and about 50 bajillion million bobby pins for that one.

Iyslah’s outfit looked like a tiny tyke version of that Lady Gaga dress with all the Saturn rings dingling around it.  It was very cool, but one of the Top Hat Boyz felt it was too dark and, of course, not blingy enough.  Never blingy enough.

Apparently, in Space no one can hear you scream…or over accessorize.

NeNe clanged her cheering section cowbells in the air like she was back in Mayberry calling Opie home for lunch, which really irritated the delicate ear canals of at least one Top Hat Boy.

Then some kids won some stuff.

During crowning, Ava stood way up high on her Dad’s legs wearing the cutest little Oriental costume that made her look like she was performing the finale of Miss Saigon.  If NeNe hadn’t been laughing and clanging those damn bells so loud I swear you could have heard a helicopter land.

(That joke is pointless if you never saw Miss Saigon.  Don’t over analyze it.)

Thank you, Lawd.  Katlyn scored Miss Grand Supreme and then almost choked to death on a straw during her final interview.

Unfortunately, poor Iyslah didn’t get squat.  Hopefully Annette snuck her some stuff when it was all over, because she looked so sad.  I’m sure she hugged her for me.

And a special thank you to the Spirit World, for giving Ava the Ultimate Deep Dish Grand Supreme.  That’s right.  Top Prize.  Space Camp, bitches.

Mom said Holy F*** (…nice talk, by the way…) and screamed and hugged Cambrie like they were at a Bieber concert.

(Memo to self:  Make a fan out of money like Ava was holding and start paying for everything with Liberace flourish asap.)

And then it was over.

As quickly as it had appeared, the Universal Royalty Shuttle was gone.  Back to wherever it is that they go to refuel, fix their hair and get ready for wherever the next round of Space Sparkle takes them.

But it’s all good.  Tonight when you look up at the stars and see that twinkle, just know that all is right with the world and that somewhere out there Annette Hill is slow dancing with an astronaut to a James Brown groove.

Cuz that’s how she do, mmmkay?


Dance Moms: It Was Two Girls, One Solo, Six Crazy Moms And A Couple Of Really Bad Hair Days. Math Is Hard.

Tuesday, June 11th, 2013




My Slim-Fast Milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. And they’re like…it’s better than yours.







Seriously. I don’t even know why I showed up this week. What the Hell?






Now remember, Ethel. We can’t let Ricky find out we tried to break into the Copacabana or we’ll have some ‘splaining to do.





Hope you all got yourself some oven mitts, cuz you just got served a little sumthin’ too hot to handle, bitches.







Umm. Hello. I think the technical term is “Suck It, Haters.”







You know your kid looks like that Toy Story cowgirl that used to come with a Happy Meal, right?






So can we all talk about how much this whole judging thing totally blows big chunks?




And here we go again.

Another week of Dance Moms drama.

This week, the ribbons were Pink and the homeland security threat level down to Orange, thanks in part to Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein and her cry baby Mantourage having already scurried back to Ohio with their cow tails between their legs after being spanked at the last competition.

With Cathy safely behind enemy lines inside the Evil Dance Lair known as Candy Apples, you’d think that Abby and the Moms would have a chance to catch their breath…but no such luck.

Celebration boogie on the other hand?  There’s always time for that.

At least for Abby, who was seated at the front desk poppin’ and lockin’ like a mime in a box as the Moms all filed in for this week’s assignments.

We don’t see Ms. Miller in a good mood very often, so it was a little disturbing to witness.

Shimmy Shimmy Coco Puff disturbing.

She reminded me of that crazy lady you always see on the cross-town bus who never blends her cheek blush into her face.  The one who sings and seat-dances for the entire trip and then only when the driver lowers the front door to let her out in front of Marshall’s do you realize that there’s not even an iPod attached to her ear buds.

That lady.

Clearly, Abby loves her Fifty-Cent.  So much so that I have to pause and thank whoever had the production foresight to keep her behind the front desk barrier, because you know she was totally wearing a pair of low rider Lane Bryant gangstah shorts and flashing way too much granny pantie for a show that airs before 10pm.

Abby’s in the house, yo.  Can I get a whoop whoop whoopie pie?


Boom.  And then Kristie with a K returned.  Love.  Her.

Sassy Mama JLo was back, all styling in another one of her signature Sassy outfits with SassyPants Asia by her side being all Sassy & Stuff.

Asia had been MIA during last week’s two hour sobbing extravaganza due to television and magazine gigs on the West Coast.  Because she’s Sassy like dat.

But they were back now, and tiny Mackenzie almost swallowed her Jawbreaker candy when she saw Asia bust through the studio door.  Sorry Mackadoodle, but it’s gonna take a lot more than grease pencil freckles to keep up with that firecracker.

But first, the Pyramid of Shame.

You can tell even Abby is starting to regret coming up with this concept because she pretty much raced through the results like the building was on fire.

Bottom row was full of Asia, Nia, Kendall and Paige.  There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to their positioning other than the fact that they weren’t Chloe or Maddie.  So deal.

The Mezzaine level was reserved seating for MackaSmacka and the aforementioned Chloe and Maddie.

And you might want to tighten those weaves and hold onto your hats, because Sad Sack Brooke Hyland was on the top of the pile.  Freakin’.  Finally.

As you’ll recall, last week Brooke had been bumped up to the Senior Dance Team and had actually gotten to perform with someone who wasn’t wearing orthodontics.

That alone was probably what got her top billing.  But, whatever.  Take the prize and run like the wind, honey.

This week the ALDC was headed to Ft. Wayne, Indiana for yet another PowerHouse Dance Competition.  So more of my favorite disco strobe light towers and projection screen backdrops that are impossible to read without night vision goggles.

Seriously, people.  Get it together.


The group routine was going to be an emotionally charged dance called Living With The Ribbon.  Since it was all about cancer, and this was Lifetime TV, you knew that at some point there would be lots of tears and loads of that background piano music they always use in Jane Seymour movies.

But everyone of us has been touched by cancer somehow, so it’s no joking matter.  The studio got pretty quiet, and Melissa cried.

Chloe and Maddie scored solos, as well as MackYak and Asia, and you could already smell some kind of preplanned competition brewing between the pairs.  You could also smell grape or cherry, but I think that was still coming from the remnants of Mackenzie’s Jawbreaker.  She’s going to have to wear those braces until she’s 43 if she doesn’t knock it off.

As the Moms hit the MomPerch to get Kristie up to speed, the girls got to rehearsing the group number for the first time.

The routine was basically Brooke all tangled up in a mile of elastic ribbon, doing all her usual Cirque du Soleil flips while the rest of the girls symbolically tugged on her survival lifeline.  It was pretty impressive.

And since it’s cancer, jokes are still off limits even though I’m dying to say something about that huge piece of elastic probably coming from a pair of Abby’s Denim & Co pull on jeans.

The ones from QVC.

I won’t ruin the moment.  But really, how cool are pants that you can pull almost all the way up to your arm pits in case you forget to put on a bra before you leave the house?  I mean, c’mon.  Genius.

Up in the MomPerch, it didn’t take JLo long to figure out that Holly was sitting in the wrong place on the couch.  I guess there’s assigned seating or something.  Maybe there’s stickers on the cushions.  I try not to stare at their butts.

The whole ongoing Christi vs. Kelly throw down was rehashed again and JLo couldn’t believe all the dramz.  You now she kinda wanted to smack Christi around a little just to pretend it was in support of Kelly.  Old habits and all.  Let’s do this!


Other than being one of those Academy Awards seat fillers who plop themselves down when Gwyneth Paltrow goes up on stage to snag an Oscar, Holly didn’t really have much to do this week.  She should have just Skyped the whole thing in and caught up on her stories.

Through the process of elimination, Jill and Christi were now temporary BFFS and headed downstairs to do something or other while the rest of the Moms stayed on the Holodeck.

Back in the studio, Abby unveiled her latest Master Plan.

Chloe and Maddie would be performing the same dance.  In the same outfit.  To the same music.  At the same competition.  OMG.  Twinsies.

Christi had spent the last 2 1/2 seasons complaining about an uneven playing field between the girls.  So take that, lady.

As for the Asia vs. MackSplat face-off, I was thinking that Asia would do something sassy and that the other one would do some dance that required pigtails again.

And sure enough, MackaWhackaHiDeeHo was given another spunky western number while Asia busted out moves that you usually only see after someone drops Ecstasy in your cocktail.

Gah.  Love me some Asia.

JLo left the MomPerch long enough to go check on Asia’s booty pop, which required that she remove her LA stilettos and prove what I knew all along:  Bitch has Barbie Feet.

You know what I’m talking about.  Those feet that stay in high heel position even when you take her shoes off.  I swear.  It was right there on the television screen.

I bet if you push on her stomach you can pull her pony tail and make it longer.

The next day, Lucy and Ethel…I mean Christi and Jill…were certain that Maddie and her sibling were receiving extra help on their routines when no one was looking, and decided to go into full on Ninja Mode to capture cell phone footage of the crime.

But they put designer sunglasses on first.  Because that way no one would ever suspect an SUV with an I Heart Dance bumper sticker of any criminal activity.

Seriously.  Those two.


Mark my words.  By the end of this season if one of one of them doesn’t have a giant vase stuck on her head I’ll buy you lunch.  And pay the tip.

After dropping Jill down through the sky light on a bungee cord, they got their shot, squealed out of the parking lot and headed to Kohl’s before anyone knew what had happened.

They also lost a rim, Jill hit her head on the dashboard and Christi’s tail pipe is now secured to the under chassis with a coat hanger.

Seriously.  WTF? Will somebody PLEASE flat top that parking lot and fill in those potholes?  I’ll bet there hasn’t been one day when some kid didn’t sprain their ankle falling into one of those sinkholes.

Once all the Moms were safely back inside that evening, Abby pulled one last sorority prank and forced Christi and Kelly to go down into the bathroom and Rit dye that gigantic elastic band breast cancer pink.

It kinda looked like a season ending cliffhanger with Christi washing blood off her hands until I saw Kelly and knew she was still alive.  False alarm.

Then everyone had one last good cry before the competition.  Abby gathered Moms and kids together and they all lost it a little as they remembered those who have been touched by cancer.

Even SassyPants Asia got choked up remembering her Dad’s dog Diego.  It was a moment of unintentional comic relief that made you realize that even though she can Save A Horse And Ride A Cowboy like a diva bitch, she’s still really only 7 years old.

Just wanna squeeze those cheeks.

Finally, it was Showtime!

I’m going to pretend I didn’t see Maddie giving herself bronzer cleavage and just move on to the good stuff.

Sure enough, MackTicTac was once again dressed like one of those cowboy rag dolls that nobody ever buys at a church rummage sale.  With cowboy rag doll freckles, of course.  And cowboy spunk fo’ days.

Again?  If it’s not a clown or a lemon or a bumble bee, it’s a cowboy.  Even JLo noted that cute don’t last forevah, girlfriend and it might be time to hooch it up a little.

Granted, she’s still a little kid, but if Mom doesn’t break this habit pretty soon, Mack is about six months away from growing up to be that spinster HR lady at your office who wears holiday socks and earrings shaped like Christmas presents starting the day after Thanksgiving.


Yeah…you.  You know who I’m talking about.

Asia werked and twerked it all over the stage again, but got busted for lip synching the entire song.  If it’s good enough for Beyoncé at the White House, I don’t really think it’s the end of the world in a high school auditorium.  But Abby’s the boss.

Chloe and Maddie did their matching solos, and when I walked away and came back I thought it was still the same person dancing.

The group routine was a big hit, and everyone cried again.  It even made Christi want to hug Kelly.  At least this week, all the crying made sense.  Last week everyone was just being drama queens.  Especially those pussy Dads.

Then some kids won some stuff.

The only uncomfortable moment came when Chloe won First Place, which knocked Maddie down to Second.  Which is the first loser, remember?

Backstage it was predictable chaos with Maddie fake smiling and congratulating Chloe like they do at the end of every Miss America pageant until Mr. Emcee came in and announced that none of the judges could do math and Maddie was the winner after all.

Psych!  Gimme that crown, bitch.

Can we all just take a moment and have one big group hug for Chloe, who walked over and handed off her trophy to Maddie like one of those street urchin kids in a 1940’s musical giving up a lost puppy to it’s original owner?

Everyone:  How could this happen?  Abyy:  I dunno.  No idea.  Wasn’t me.

Probably not the best time for Mr. Emcee to walk back in a second time and thank Abby for “bringing the error to their attention.”

Uh Oh Spaghetti-O’s.

Awkward.  Even a PowerHouse judge could probably do that math.


This is gonna get uglier than freckles on a cowboy, I tell you.


The Real Housewives Of New Jersey: Old Friendships And New Bathroom Sinks Crumble. It’s A Jersey Quickie.

Tuesday, June 11th, 2013


Life is hard.

I know you’re busy.

And sometimes there is barely enough time to catch up on all the Garden State Goodness that is Real Housewives of New Jersey, much less read all the hilarity I keep sending your way.

Once in awhile you might actually even…I don’t know…have to work while you’re at work, and not have the luxury of spending hours slowing down the company’s internet speed trying to catch up on all the crazy shizzle that is going down between the Gorgas and the Giudices.  One step forward, two steps back as they say.

I feel your pain.  And your anguish.

But fear not, Bravoholics.

Relive the latest episode at Warp Speed.  No filler.  No fluff.  Just the meaty portions.

From all 47 of Teresa‘s girls blowing their nutties in the kitchen to Melissa trying to sell a house with a broken bathroom sink that isn’t even connected to any actual plumbing…it’s all there.  Everything you saw.  Or thought you saw.

You’ll witness Caroline‘s sister Fran‘s mentally dinged up chihuahua who smells like Fritos (…the dog, not the sister…) as well as Joe Gorga and Chris Laurita playing an uncomfortably manly game of pool that luckily ended before any real man-on-man 8 ball corner pocket action kicked into overdrive.

Even the Pride of the Golden Girls Pride Parade Rosie Pierri is there in her best Boca Raton daywear, talking nasty talk during a No Girls Allowed poker night.

You’ll see Richie Wakile being a total dufus at daughter Victoria‘s nursing school and share in the touching breakthrough moment between Jacqueline and her autistic son Nicholas.  Get your hankies ready.

And of course, there’s also Caroline proving that she really meant it this time at last year’s Reunion Show when she said she would never speak to Teresa again.

Because she totally talked to her again, in an oddly evacuated ghost town of a restaurant that got enough free on-screen advertising to recoup any loses from Hurricane Sandy.  We get it.  It’s the Ho-Ho-Kus Inn & Tavern.

(Spoiler Alert:  No table flip.  I really miss the old Prostitution Whore Days.)

And you get to see it all in under 2 minutes.

I give you the New Jersey Quickie.

Trust me.  It’s everything that trashy girl down at the Mall said it would be.


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