Oh. Hell. No. That pretty one did not just score her kid another solo.
Dude. Seriously. I can’t even look at you in that hat. Do you even own a mirror?
I will make him pay for his insolence. I am beautiful on the inside, haters.
They are all playing right into my hands. Soon, Hannah. Soon this will all be ours.
And “Kohroghafee” is a hard word. You try it, bitch.
I am beautiful.
You are beautiful. And you.
And you over there, reading this while you’re supposed to be working.
You’re beautiful, too.
Heck…even Dance Moms are beautiful.
Until they open their mouths.
This week Dance Moms: Miami tried to teach us all a lesson in compassion, acceptance and tolerance…something that we need a lot more of nowadays.
Emphasis on the “tried” part…because somewhere before the first commercial break it collapsed into a lesson in backstabbing, gossiping and uncomfortably awkward childhood psychoanalysis.
Victor and Angel are definitely over qualified in the art of The Dance and flamboyant scarf tying. No one will ever be able to take that away from them.
But therapists? Ummm…not so much.
Back home in the Land of Early Bird Specials and Quacker Factory, the team from Stars (…which I just this moment have chosen to refer to as the S-Team, à la Eden Wood’s E-Team and Mr. T’s A-Team…) were regrouping and getting ready for the next competition.
As the troops fell into position for “The List,” two things were immediately brought to my attention. Three if you count the fact that they still don’t have enough chairs for all the Moms.
One…Victor was wearing some serious neck bling shaped like a cassette tape.
Flashback. The kind of tape that used to always get stuck in your car audio system while you were going 70 miles an hour in a 45 zone in your parent’s car, and you tried yanking it out and the tape all pulled out in a ribbon like Christmas tinsel. How much did that suck? And it was always your favorite Pointer Sisters album.
On Victor, the look was kinda gangstah. If Bob Fosse and 50 Cent had a baby out of wedlock, I guess.
Part of me was hoping he would be drooling through a gold Toddlers & Tiaras flipper, but no such luck.
The second item of notice was that Jessi was wearing a top that actually covered her teenie bopper buttons. Finally. My eyes thank you.
There was a lot to get accomplished this week, so Victor had to boogie through the stack of head shots pretty quickly.
Lucas was on the top, natch. He’s kind of this show’s Maddie, for those of you who are already longing for Abby Lee Miller to come back from wherever it was that she peeled off to in that taxi last month. If you never watched the original Dance Moms, I apologize for just eating up 20 seconds of your life that you’ll never get back.
While we’re on the subject, though, if you started watching this show without even knowing about the original then we’ve got bigger problems to discuss at a later date.
Lucas scored First Place on his solo last time, even though he was a little wobbly on his signature leg up in the air move. You’d think he could do that in his sleep by now, but I’ve never tried it. The Lucmeister probably waits for the school bus doing that crazy one footed standing split thing, wearing his “Who’s Your Daddy” backpack and pointing finger pistols at the ladies.
He cracks me up.
Kimmy was next on “The List,” as a little reward for remembering her choreography last week.
I love her and her little half-lisp thing she has going on. I honestly want her to end every sentence with a big, wet Daffy Duck ttthhhhhwwwpppttt raspberry and then smirk.
That would be HIGHsterical.
While we’re on the subject, I don’t think Angel should be yanking her chain about remembering choreography when the guy can’t even say the word “choreography.”
What is he saying?
I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it’s not spelled out correctly on the teleprompter, because he always rambles like he was called in at the last minute to read the 5PM Breaking News Report and didn’t have time for a practice run through. Listen to him next time. I make up a lot of stuff…a lot, or so I’m told…but not this.
Two words: Rosetta. Stone.
First DVD is even free. Check it out, dude.
Sammy was third and got another solo this week, which almost made Debi bite through her bottom lip. That woman is not a big fan of Sammy or her Mom Abby. They have some sordid history at their old dance studio and Debi refuses to unpack all that baggage. This made 3 solos in 3 weeks, so you know Debi was chewing her cud with gusto.
Jessi and her fairly age appropriate top were in the 4th spot, which made her cry. She cries a lot. Which in turn made her slightly off-balanced Mom Susan cry. She cries a lot, too. Usually followed by a hissy fit exit out the nearest doorway. But she stuck around this time, which caught me off guard.
Hannah was at the bottom, even though she had her highest scores ever at the last competition. Debi chewed even harder at that one, even though she should have already done the math back when they were discussing dancer #4.
Let’s call it like it is.
Debi is pretty much just miserable during waking hours. She rolls her eyes a lot and always looks like that person at the County Buffet who just needs one good burp to make it all go away. She just doesn’t seem to be liking her life right now, but luckily Hannah hasn’t picked up on any of that negative DNA. The little tyke is actually one of the most level headed kids in the room and had some serious pearls of wisdom this week.
Since there is no such thing as too much Starbound, they are all headed back to California again for round two. Apparently California has weekly after shocks and Starbound Competitions, because the kids haven’t even unpacked from the last trip yet, and now they have to go back again.
The group number this time was a little heavy.
(No…that wasn’t a Hannah joke. Gah. You say one thing two weeks ago and the internet won’t let you forget.)
It’s all about insecurities. And to get the kiddos to open up, Victor and Angel had them all sit around in one of those Truth Circles that people always do on company team building retreats. But instead of falling backwards and hoping someone catches your a** before you crack your head open, the S-Team got to sit around and say what makes them feel insecure.
Now this could have been a real chance for some real discussions on what kids nowadays go through at school and online, and it started out pretty intense with Jessi feeling ugly. But the whole process seemed to make Victor and Angel a little uncomfortable and by the time Lucas started to explain how the other boys make fun of him for wanting to dance, they buzzed on to the next person so fast that the little guy’s hair stood up without gel for the first time.
Kimmy brought up her unnatural need for perfection, which you didn’t need a degree to know is brought on by Mom Ani’s OCD labeling of everything in the house, and consistently waking the poor kid up at 4am to do her book reports.
Hannah really spoke from the heart and it was touching. By the time she cried I wanted to hug her, but Victor got there first.
Sammy thinks she’s pretty, but is still afraid of forgetting her moves, and her Mom being run over by Debi in a minivan.
As the Moms sat behind that zoo window and watched the activity, they bounced back and forth between tearing up and talking smack. Poor Abby didn’t stand a chance when they started ganging up on her for Sammy’s trifecta of solos. Before you knew it, she was all alone in the room when everyone else got up to go the bathroom at the same time like Meerkats heading to their hole.
Meow, kitties.
The next day Brigette had a case of the Guilts and pulled Abby aside to apologize for the mass exodus. She realized that Debi had manipulated the situation and tossed so much negative catnip around the room that all of them just lost their equilibrium. That was no excuse for the whacky hair accessory that Mayra was wearing at the front desk, but she’s whackadoodle anyway. Comes with the territory I guess.
To break the tension during rehearsals, Victor had all the Moms come into the studio to do The Dougie Dance.
If you know what that is…just picture it. If you don’t…youtube it. Then picture it.
It looked like Mohegan Sun when all the horny, drunk Moms do a weekend getaway without their husbands, and hit the dance floor daring each other to dance with all the horny, drunk Dyson salesmen.
Yeah. You can’t un-see that now, can you?
All inspired after that, Abby, Brigette and Susan took off for a cocktail, and the chance to perhaps score a new Dyson for the summer home.
Keep your friends close, your enemies closer…blah, blah, blah.
Before the booze even hit their nervous system, Abby blurted out that Debi was ASKED to leave the last dance studio. Oh snap.
As long as they were Debi-trashing, Brigette and Susan let Abby know that Debi had asked Victor to basically throw the game….ie, sabotage Sammy’s dance by giving her suckwad choreography.
Oh snap, again. This can’t be good.
Competition Day was when it all went down.
The solos went well. Kimmy looked like she had no spine, and pretzeled her way around the stage. Go, Kimmy! ttthhhhhwwwpppttt!
Sammy nailed her solo, and Lucas didn’t wear a shirt again.
Now about that.
First time was…I don’t know, ok, I guess. Second time was…well, the second time.
Maybe it’s just me, but by the third time with no shirt and shiny bike shorts…it’s getting a little Dateline: To Catch A Preditor.
Can someone please put some clothes on that kid?
Chicks dig a smart dressed man. And you know Lucas loves to pop a collar.
Seriously. If that little boy isn’t wearing a shirt by next week I’m going to have to clear the history on my laptop before Chris Hansen shows up.
After the solos, Abby cornered Victor and Angel outside and tried to bully a confession out of them regarding the sabotage rumors. Victor just squirmed and putzed with his scarf while Angel squirmed and putzed with another one of his little beanie hats.
It was pretty clear that something was up, even though neither of them came clean. They did have some nervous pee and a few wardrobe adjustments, but no secrets were revealed. But Abby figured it out on her own, and she had a score to settle.
It was now officially Debi Season, and Abby was going hunting as soon as the group number was over.
The Insecurity Dance went well, but only scored the kids a Fifth Place button. All the dancers came out with labels of their individual insecurities duct taped to their costumes, and then yanked them off in a kind of boogie boogie music video cleansing process. Luckily there were no Super Bowl wardrobe malfunctions during all that yanking, but also no First Place trophy.
When they all stampeded backstage looking for hugs and high fives, they were greeted with Victor’s luke warm analysis of the day, and Abby looking to cut up some fresh Debi Meat for the freezer.
Debi swore she didn’t try to sabotage the dance. Brigette told her to own it. Moms started yelling again. Kids weren’t sure what to do.
Abby blew a nutty and bolted out the door, in that half crying/half screaming way that Dance Moms do everything.
The last thing we saw was Abby outside having a little meltdown as though she had just been cut from The Bachelor, crying about how she had never met women like this before, never had women treat her like this before and never had to deal with anything like this before…all the dramatic stuff that they always say when they don’t get a rose.
Welcome to the heartbreak called Dance Moms, honey.
ttthhhhhwwwpppttt!
