I would have called you sooner, but you know I don’t get cell service inside that damn karaoke bar.
That’s it. I’m outta here. Nobody talks to me like that while there’s a full table of snacks out back. Mama needs a nosh.
If I wasn’t wearing my Spanks right now I’d be all up in that chick’s grill.
I have no idea where the exits are located. I’m literally trapped in here with these crazy hens. Realz.
And then I went like this, and used my psychic maternal healing power to cure Mackenzie’s f***d up toe.
Bitch. Please.
And then they bring in this hot new Mom with giant earrings and boobs out to here. So not fair.
And here we go again, folks.
Grab a cocktail, or two or ten, and settle in for another Dance Moms Reunion.
The Real Housewives of Pittsburgh were back this week to rehash the latest round of studio stress and dancing dramz, in what was either a season ending get together, a mid-season filler, or simply an excuse to put on fancy dress up clothes and get out of doing housework again.
Your guess is as good as mine.
As you can tell, I’m not really clear on how they work this whole scheduling thing out since the show is already advertising next month’s June Premiere. (Set your DVRs and plug in the blender.) So it’s not like they’re getting a full Summer hiatus like CSI and then coming back, months from now, with a two page spread in that special edition of TV Guide.
Like I’ve said before, it’s probably more like a month off from filming just to wash out some leotards and detox all the alcohol out of their system before the next round of competition. You need to be on your game when it’s time for Nationals.
Regardless, they were back. And back in that odd little basement studio with the bad lighting and Mardi Gras beads.
I know, right? I don’t get it, either.
With all the money that Dance Moms and Jane Seymour movies bring in for Lifetime, I still can’t figure out what they’re all doing down there. It’s almost like some youtube wannabe had booked that studio for the day, but finished early and offered up the same set to the Dance Moms people since it was already paid for through midnight.
And remember last time, at the Fall Reunion (…as opposed to whatever this one is called…) when they classed it up and all sat in those Andy Cohen knock-off couches like the New Jersey ladies? Granted, instead of Bellagio chandeliers they had a lot of HomeGoods knick knacks cluttering up the joint. But it was still a couch.
I dunno. Maybe the Spring version goes in the basement, and the real end of the season one gets a couch. If I don’t even understand the difference between technical and artistic scores, I can’t be expected to figure out the intricacies of studio rental fees.
Anyway.
As always, my boy Jeff Collins was back to host and squirm and change subjects on a dime. He cracks me up. But in a good way. We’re tight, you know.
Just by the look on his face, it’s pretty clear that way back on that historic day when he first dreamed up the whole Dance Moms concept (…while listening to some Broadway musical soundtrack on one of those radios that you can take in the shower, no doubt…) Jeff never thought that years later, he’d actually have to be the one sitting in a dark, windowless room with all these crazies.
Watch him, and then tell me he doesn’t look like the commander of some submarine who can’t open the escape hatch in an emergency.
Love me those Dance Moms.
For you technical types who are into this kind of thing, I should also note that this year the production people have been busting out that two camera confessional shot a lot.
You know the one. The one where sometimes the person is looking right into the camera and yakking, and then sometimes they are shot slightly from the side looking off into space.
Which I guess works for MasterCard commercials and The Real World when trashy chicks get totally wasted, but on Dance Moms it tends to look like they don’t know which camera has the flashing red light.
Just saying.
Abby Lee Miller was first on the scene, of course, and played a little word association with Mr. Collins to loosen everybody up before the good stuff.
After dissing Melissa a bit, they called her out from the Green Room, which seemed to catch one of the crew members completely off guard and sent him racing onto the set with her booster seat. On camera. Get off Facebook and pay attention, dude. We only have the studio until midnight.
Melissa talked about her wedding. The Wedding. Which was secret, and then wasn’t, and then happened so fast that none of the other Moms even showed up for the event.
Melissa admitted to trying to get the nuptials televised, but her previously married, then still married while dating, then divorced and now newlywed-ed (…did I just make up a new word?…) Greg Gisoni didn’t want cameras at the blessed event.
So William and Kate got all the Royal coverage, while Melissa and Greg just signed some papers in the living room, took a few iPhone movies and called it a day.
As much as I love me some Jeff Collins, his transitional questioning still leaves a little to be desired.
Moving On. Anyway. Changing Gears. He’s like that kid in junior high that starts talking about his World of Warcraft character’s wicked awesome weaponry arsenal for no reason at all while you’re in the middle of discussing how your BFF just texted your boyfriend while you were at cheer practice.
Pump the brakes, man. Don’t slam ‘em or somebody might get hurt.
All of the sudden he cuts off Melissa and asks Abby about the time that Holly called her a Monstrosity of Evil. Which was classic, I’ll give him that one. Classic. But Melissa wasn’t done raving about her kids.
After announcing on national television that Holly had cankles, Abby and Jeff welcomed Nia‘s Mom (…and her allegedly fat shoe toppers…) to the studio audience.
Once again, Holly showed amazing posture and her Proud Mama Face. In three seasons I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman slouch in her seat. Unfortunately, she barely had time to discuss Nia’s RND symptoms before you could hear Kelly and Christi scratching at the back door.
Let’s get this party started.
Apparently, Kelly and Christi still had some outstanding issues regarding the breakdown of their friendship earlier in the season. Or they were having a 6th grade cafeteria fight over who stole who’s Justin Bieber glitter stickers . It was hard to tell.
You didn’t call me. Na Huh…yes I did. No you didn’t. I called you three times. Melissa said out by the monkey bars that you called from her house, which is a lie. No way, I did call. Ask her. Melissa says you always make s*** up. Yeah, well Melissa is a big poopie head.
Keep in mind that their entire falling out this season was based on Chloe not being able to keep a Bob Fosse hat on her head. Or something. I forget. But being blessed with a massive Pez Head myself, I feel your pain, sistah.
Then all of the sudden while Christi was blowing off steam, Abby walked off the set like she had left her baby in the car.
That’s it. She’s done. Outie.
Someone say Snacks in the Green Room? Thanks for playing.
Before Kelly and Christi went face down in the sandbox, Jeff dripped a little flop sweat and called for Jill, who proudly sashayed out completely Bump-It-Free and no longer sounding like some Cougar waiting for the pool boy to show up with his massive…ummm…pool swabbing stick.
Bow Chick A Vertes.
As long as Jill swears to never Gangnam Style again, we’re good.
Jeff ground his gears again and asked Kendall‘s Mom about all those secret private lessons and her water balloon fight with Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein.
I’m starting to think those two women don’t along very well.
Then it was a Momapalooza as all the Dance Moms lined up their high chairs and started talking over each other.
We relived the Tribute Dance for dead puppy Broadway Baby, the lack of formal invitations to Melissa’s wedding and Mackenzie’s on again/off again mystery foot ailment.
Melissa actually choked on it for a second and admitted that she regretted using a dead dog in her master plan to regain First Place positioning on the Mom Pyramid, and then danced around the whole foot thing again.
Jill stood up for Mackawhacka’s seniority when it came to dancing on The View, even with a hot mess of a toe, while Christi insisted that the whole thing was still a set up to prevent the little nugget from having to go head to head against Miss SassyPants Asia the week prior.
Trust me, I would back my car right up over my own foot before I’d twerk a booty pop against that tiny firecracker. Monet Ray? Oh Hey.
And then Jeff asked “Who wants to talk about Cathy?”
Well, yeah…duh…I raised my hand, but I’m not sure he could really see me. That might only work on Romper Room through the magic mirror.
(Look it up, kids. It’s a hilarious reference for us old timers.)
And then with a puff of smoke, Chaos Cathy burst up through the Yellow Brick Road to terrorize all the dancing Munchkins.
Cathy immediately started waving her award-winning jerky in everyone’s face, claiming that Abby was jealous of the Candy Apples. Abby countered with some whacked out story about pent up water pressure accidentally forcing the cap off her Poland Springs bottle during the infamous backstage Slip ‘N Slide throw down.
Seriously. She did.
Sorry, but unless that 16 oz piece of plastic was attached to a working city fire hydrant, I’m gonna have to give this round to Cathy. Nice try, though.
Then it was a discussion about choreographer Anthony Burrell calling out Paige from the audience during her group dance performance last week, which crumbled into an argument on what dance teachers can and can not say under the legal guidelines for “critiquing.”
The short version was that you can publicly make fun of a kid, but not call their Mom a Bitch unless you really want to go there.
According to Abby, somehow during the water fight, Cathy’s tiny little purse had managed to find its way to the back of Abby’s head, causing immediate bruising, emotional duress and something that probably sounded like Julia Child tenderizing a juicy slab of raw beef. And there were photos to prove it.
Yeah. Melissa drew the short straw and had to snap a few shots of Abby’s bare, battered (…bare battered, not beer battered…) back, which I’m totally Googling after I’m done writing this.
Can you even imagine?
I should also point out that throughout the Reunion Show there were random questions from audience members, who I’m going to assume had either won a contest or drawn a lucky number out of one of those hats that kept falling off the kids’ heads all season.
I don’t how that worked either. But that shizzle is totally going on Instagram, you know that. Because they were darn excited to be in the basement in the presence of such dancing awesomeness. Except for a few Dads who appeared to have either lost a bet or needed to be there in exchange for who knows what kind of future favors.
Jeff also tossed in some dance numbers whenever he needed a drink to sooth his nervously dry mouth.
The last routine was a group number. Complete with Miss SassyPants herself…Asia!
So you know what that meant, right? Do the math. That meant that her Mom JLo was somewhere in the building.
Boom! Kristie with a K was in the hizzle!
I could just feel it already. And it gave me life.
Because. We. Love. Her.
But then it was over. Until next week, anyway.
Part Two.
When this happens, mmmkay?:
Let’s Go, Bitches.
