Freakin’ finally. Kendall’s in the hizzle, bitches.
It’s MY reputation out there. So if I need to f*** with some little minds…so be it. Now who wants a solo?
Seriously? If I wanted to dress like this every week I’d just run away and join the circus, ok? I’m all set with the bows, thank you.
Thank Gawd I only inherited my Mom’s Bump-It and not her crazy a** DNA.
When I close my eyes, I imagine the Road to Nationals is lined with unlimited texting cell towers and liquor stores.
BeatChloeBeat ChloeBeatChloe BeatChloeBeat ChloeBeatChloe BeatChloeBeat ChloeBeatChloe Beat…BooYeah!
You might want to check Web M.D.
Forget the Black Plague, Polio or that swamp land thing you get from mosquitoes when you don’t wear long pants after the sun goes down.
If this week’s Dance Moms is any indication, it looks like Solo Fever could prove to be more deadly than anything else out there.
It’s the Road to Nationals again. And as any Gleek will tell you, it’s a long and bumpy one, often full of heartache, sweat and more than a few questionable fashion choices.
But trust me, those Glee kids have no idea how easy they had it, because figuring out how to conceal the fact that Finn still couldn’t dance after three years was nothing compared to a full on Abby Lee Miller Mind Freak.
That’s right. When it comes to Nationals…and country buffets…Abby appears to have no limits or boundaries. Only the best will do. And if that means she has to mess up both your feet and your brain to score that elusive Clean Sweep?
Well, then so be it.
After a great, but still not Abby Perfect by Abby Standards, showing at last week’s iHollywood Dance Competition, Ms. Miller and the gang were still chilling on the West Coast with no apparent plans to go home anytime soon.
I’m going to assume that, coincidentally, everyone had either left extra dry food out for the cats or had all texted a neighborhood kid before Pyramid and instructed him to break a window to make sure nothing had died inside, because it almost appeared that sticking around California was a last minute decision.
Now I know it couldn’t have been that impromptu, but when Abby announced they were all staying and the girls had their weekly KidSpaz squeal, it did appear as though they all initially expected to be home by dinner.
Hold up. Maybe that’s what all the Moms are always doing on those cell phones. Could I have finally solved the mystery?
For two seasons I have openly wondered what they are doing on those phones, who in the hell they are always texting and how many times in one day someone really needs to update their Facebook status. I mean, even when Kelly throws her hourly tantrum, she has that phone clutched in her paw like a Life Alert button.
I guess just because you’re blowing a MegaNutty doesn’t mean you might not suddenly need to tweet something important, right?
C’mon, ladies. Unless you’re secretly working for the government or posting a link to my HIGHsterical blog…put the phones down. Just for a minute? I dare you.
(If you really were posting my link, feel free to wrap that up first…and then step away from the Blackberry.)
Anyway.
This week they were all heading to In10sity Dance.
Cool name. Cooler spelling. And pretty much impossible to find on Google unless you already know there’s a number “10″ stuck in the middle of the word for no reason.
But I’m all for edgy, and their website is pretty slick compared to the usual homemade laptop dance sites. So A+ from DanThat’sCool, which either means nothing to you or is the best online thumbs up you’ve ever received.
I pick the second one. Feel free to post the link, too. I’ll wait.
Since Pittsburgh was so far away, Abby had secured space at the Millenium Dance Studio, which is noted for having hosted both Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears dirty pop booty slop rehearsals. Needless to say, all the little dancers were some psyched to be in the presence of such naughtiness.
I’m going assume that Xtina and Cheetos didn’t actually use the same tiny room that Abby had squeezed everyone into…but when you’re paying by the hour and the square footage, you get whatchoo get girls.
Regardless, even on the West Coast the Pyramid of Shame comes first. A three hour time difference doesn’t change the rules.
Bottom row was home to Kendall, Paige, Brooke and Maddie.
Kendall was finally on the wall. Halleloo! But everyone starts at the bottom. So enjoy the view. (That was unintentionally poetic, in a Dr. Seuss kind of way.)
Paige was still weighted down by that damn clunky boot. This week her foot was 99% healed, so the boot was gone, but the residual effects of the last 4 weeks were still dragging her down to the bottom like cement shoes on a gangster.
Brooke was there for timing issues, and because Abby always likes getting a rise out of Mom Kelly. It worked.
Maddie was there once again because Abby was f***ing with her mind over not doing that solo ten years ago. Let it go, Abby.
Middle row was Diva Nia and Chloe.
Sasha Nia had officially progressed to Diva status last week with her Billy Holiday-ish shoobie doo bop wah skeedaddle scat dance. You go, girl.
Chloe had Weeble Wobbled at the start of her routine and still landed in the top 5, but Abby wanted top 1 if you know what I mean.
Finally, it was Mackenzie at the top! You would have thought those One Direction boys had just walked in the room she was so happy. I swear that last missing tooth finally came in she smiled so hard.
Abby had decided to use the In10sity Dance stage as an unofficial ALDC audition to determine who was going to Nationals, who would get a solo at Nationals and who would require a minimum of 4 years of therapy after Nationals.
Yeah. Nationals are a pretty big deal if you haven’t figured that one out by now. Right up there with Mind Games.
All the girls were handed solos this week. Except Maddie.
You heard me. Nada Maddie. You also heard me say Mind Games.
Off on the sidelines, Melissa went total Pageant Mom and motioned for her daughter to blow finger kisses and raise her hand to ask for a solo. Bad move, Mel.
If Abby can spy a chicken nugget on the floor 12 feet away under a table, it’s a pretty good bet that she can see a Mom flailing her arms around like an inflatable balloon guy on a used car lot.
It was just more incentive to mess with Maddie’s head. Come back and beg later, honey. Miss Abby’s busy right now.
The Millenium didn’t come equipped with a MomPerch, so the gals all headed out to what kind of looked like a saloon to dish the dirt. It was all planks and wood and some odd metallic flashing that should have been up on the roof under the shingles. It also came fully decorated with a “No Sexism. Just Dance” poster like you would hold up at a union rally in the park when the hotel housekeepers all picket and walk off the job.
I dunno. I didn’t ask. Just Dance.
Melissa’s internal fire drill suddenly went off as she grabbed her kids and left 20 minutes early. Everyone knew something was up, but she refused to elaborate.
Turned out that Melissa was bringing Maddie and Mackenzie to the MSA (…as opposed to the MSPCA, which wouldn’t make any sense…) to meet with an agent named Jen.
In yet another slap to anyone who may have spent the last 15 years of their lives waiting tables and trying to sneak into an agent’s office, M & M were pretty much handed the keys to the city and immediately put on the radar for any upcoming Pop-Tarts commercials.
Trust me, Melissa will keep those gigantic bows in Mack’s hair until she’s 45 years old if it gets her face on a Wheaties box.
As long as they were all out there in California with some time on their hands, Kelly figured they might as well cut a record. I mean…why not, right?
So everyone scooted off to meet with Producer Seven, who was the same dude with the cool hats that was lurking around last season during that whole music video extravaganza.
Hmmm. Do the math.
Thanks to Seven, all those people who were just slapped in the face by Maddie’s agent could also now witness Brooke waltzing into a recording studio with her dancing backup singers and laying down some auto tuned tracks for the youtube single she and sister Paige had busted out last week after they finished their homework.
A couple hours later: One record done and ready for airplay…no waitressing skills required.
By the time Abby jumped on Brooke’s coat tails and convinced everyone to film a music video with her handheld camcorder, I was starting to think that maybe this whole internet phenomena might be here to stay.
As the girls all danced and lip synched and stopped traffic on their rented tour bus, I silently began plotting how to become the next Justin Bieber.
Let’s just say that Maddie isn’t the first person to ever break out in some serious jazz hands in the middle of a crosswalk, mmkay?
Don’t be hatin’.
See you on the Crosstown 39 at 5pm. Call Me Maybe?
Somehow, between the agents and the studio time and the music video, everyone actually had time for some In10sive rehearsing, since the whole show is still supposed to be about dancing after all.
Maddie asked for her solo once or twice, and then finally begged and groveled until Abby deemed that she had learned her lesson.
The lesson apparently being Don’t F*** with Abby.
Finally it was Showtime, and it was a Solopalooza.
MackAttack danced in yet another Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey outfit and got the dreaded Toddlers & Tiaras slo mo music when she momentarily forgot what she was doing. Despite her brain freeze, she scored Mini Elite Solo First Place, which totally sounded like a J.D. Power compact car award commercial.
Kendall was in it to win it was out to prove that she deserved to be on the team, regardless of how whackadoodle her Mom may be at times.
Nia did a ’60s inspired Laugh-In dance that was 100% fun and 200% Diva Face. Werk.
Maddie nailed her solo, which was especially impressive considering that she didn’t even have a solo 24 hours earlier.
Chloe got even taller this week and did a ghostly number that scored a Proud Mom Face from Christi.
Paige danced through the pain and even made me wince a little when she flipped around on her bum leg. Yeeouchers.
Brooke did some crazy flips and got one creepy smile from a male judge that should have been edited out or encrypted and sent to Dateline.
Abby’s plastic color coordinated jewelry was as spot on as always. You totally know she has a bazillion Container Store boxes at home all color coded and ready to go in case the building catches on fire.
Every outfit needs a matching ring, bracelet, headband, necklace and Skechers sneaker or that bitch doesn’t leave the house. True dat.
The only thing missing this week was the Drama. It was pretty low key on the Dance Moms scale.
The Moms had already driven Krazy Kaya out of Dodge after only one episode, so there were no NeNe Leakes throw downs or Kelly texting meltdowns.
No Real Housewives of Pittsburgh screaming matches.
Jill appeared to have lost both her Bump-It and her rabid dog instincts all in the same week. Everyone was…almost getting along.
It was scary.
And wrong.
But luckily the whole thing ended with a quick preview of next time…and as soon as I saw Chaos Cathy‘s jerky face poke out from behind the door, I knew she would make things right again.
The Road to Nationals just hit a Candy Apples bump.
