Toddlers & Tiaras: Pop It. Lock It. And Lose It. The Hollywood Starz Hip Hop Pageant Is Da Bomb. Just Ask Thalya.

Dude. I gotta tell you. These pixie stix are way better than any of that s*** we had in the ’60s. I’m still straight buzzin’.

I had no idea that African cheetahs invented Hip Hop either. But look who’s wearing a crown now, honey.

They’re lucky my blood sugar is low or I’d go right back inside and get all Jerry Springer on someone’s a**.

Like what you see, ladies? Wait ’til they start cranking some Eminem. Trust me…the bus ain’t the only thing super-sized.

Seriously. These bitches are trippin’ harder than we ever did at Woodstock.

Imma big stinkin’ 24 year old woman who’s been sniffing hair spray all day. You really wanna do this right now?

The whole day was rather uneventful until my hair lady lost it and the Tiara Twins’ bus driver took his pants off.

She needed much bigger hair, but I’m not saying a thing. You saw that chick in the parking lot. She’d f*** me up.

I think MC Hammer said it best.

“I’ve toured around the world, from London to the Bay

It’s Glamour, Go Glamour.  Toddler Glamour.  Yo, Glamour.

And the rest can go and play.  Break it down.  

Stop.  It’s Glamour Time.”

Dat’s rite.  Listen to these dope beatz and learn how it all went down in Jersey, yo.

Toddlers & Tiaras was mixing it like a DJ and scratching it like they had a bad rash this week, all courtesy of the Hollywood Starz Hip Hop Pageant.  Because we all know there’s nothing a preschooler likes more than glitter and gangstah rap.

Held in picturesque Fairfield NJ, the competition was (…Spoiler Alert!…) only a short Path Train ride or a 2 day walk in traffic with no water back to New Yawk City.  And it was gonna bring out the confidence and swag in every contestant.

At least that was the plan as Director Jonel Stanek laid it all out for us.

Of all the Pageant Directors that have graced the T&T screen over the years, Jonel was definitely one of the most low key and normal.  Very nice and polite, but unfortunately she barely even ticked the CrazyMeter.  I was not happy.

I mean, if my girl Tonya Bailey can rock a Swarovski eye patch on Pirate Day and lick a Rainbow Bright lollipop like a porn star on whatever day that was that she licked the Rainbow Bright lollipop, not to mention my other girl Annette Hill backing dat thang up on MotownDay, the least Jonel could have done was pop in a grill or something.

It’s Hip Hop, fercryinoutloud.  If she didn’t want to stick anything in her mouth, she could have rocked a Flava Flav clock around her neck or something.  You can buy them at Bed Bath & Beyond for next to nothing if you use that coupon they’ve been sending me in the mail every seven days for the last four years.

When it was all said and done, Jonel didn’t really tell us anything that we hadn’t already read in TV Guide at the grocery store.  But at least she got to show off her new green one shouldered Wilma Flintstone dress.  So there was that.

Our first little princess was 5 year old Devin and her Mom Darci.  They were full of peace and love.  And probably feeling pretty groovy, too.

Mom and Dad Kevin were hippies.  Or used to be, anyway.  I’m not sure if you can still legitimately be a hippie in 2013 or not.  I should research that.

At first I thought that Devin’s older sister Cassidy was pulling our legs when she said that her parents were former Love Children, even though I could totally picture Mom falling out of a VW van on the side of the road somewhere.  And even though they did have an unusually large assortment of hula hoops scattered around the front yard, that doesn’t necessarily mean you grew your own in the basement of your parents’ house.

But then Mom took the whole gang down to the art studio to work on props for Devin’s Hip Hop routine and some of her ’60s fumes started to leak out from under the door.

Like when she explained that pageants were really just performance art and then went on to explain how African cheetahs somehow jumped a boat to America and ended up creating the Def Jam record label.  Like Planet of the Apes, but with more bling.

I swear the paint fumes were literally coming through my television.

And then Dad showed up out of nowhere, all tie dyed and hair going every which way like that Back to the Future guy.

Poor Dad.  Loved him.  But he didn’t get it.  I don’t think he even know where he was while he was talking to the cameras.  Because he’s just the Dad.  And then he disappeared back under the table and I decided that I needed to be his new best friend asap.

Mom was a body and face artist, which meant that she painted people head to toe like they do at MAC Cosmetic counters during new product launches (…I still don’t know why anyone needs to wear eye shadow on their junk, but whatever…) and was planning on covering Devin in cheetah spots before sticking her in a cage and shipping her off to America to invent rap.

That whole family shops at Whole Foods.  You know they do.

The second contestant arrived in a cloud of diesel fumes as 5 year old Adrianna and Mom Jennifer introduced us to their biker family.  Hogs.  Harleys.  Hip Hop.

Adrianna was one of those blonde cuties who couldn’t keep her tongue in her mouth, but will hopefully grow out of that phase before she hits middle school because the world really doesn’t need another Miley Cyrus right now.

I really liked her and could tell she’ll be a looker when she grows up.  Which is no big deal, because her Dad Aaron was such a biker dude that he’ll crack the skull of any boy who even looks at his daughter’s Facebook page.

Dad is so out of his element with pageants that he fits right in, if that makes any sense.  I love Dads that support their kids.

You could tell they are all a total panic at family cookouts. Invite me next time, please.

But if you were really looking for a party, you needed to drop by 5 year old Malina‘s house for Indian food and trash talk.  Because that’s where Dad Harry and Godmother Thalya were going a few rounds.

Or ten.  Or twenty.

Fat jokes.  Mustache jokes.  Beard jokes.  OhNoYouDin’t.

Harry was one of those big guys you see at the mall with a chin strap goatee and about 5 pounds of gel stylin’ up 1 pound of hair.  Because you never know when the wind might kick up and you need to look fly for your lady friends.  A’ight?

Thalya was one of those big girls you see at the mall with mismatched sweats and a death grip on her cell phone.  Because you never know when you might get a text asking “Where You At, Girl?” and you know reception sucks in the Food Court.  ’kay?

Malina, on the other hand, was a straight up Bollywood Bratz doll with big eyes and a tiny body.  Not a medical condition per se.  Just typical Little Kid Syndrome where you’re just waiting for the rest of your body to catch up to your head.  Been there.  Done that.

She was a hoot, all wide eyed and bug eyed and trying not to get in the middle of the whole Harry vs. Thalya Yo Mama Challenge.

Mom Lisa was also there, kinda, but she pretty much got trampled by Thalya every time she tried to break up a fight as Malina fine tuned her booty pop.

When Thalya finally blew her first major nutty of the episode (…Spoiler Alert #2…) and threw down with Harry in the kitchen about his constant joking and insults, it should probably be noted that the whole scene looked exactly like The Muppet Show with all those crazy jiggly arms going everywhere, wobbly boom mics unintentionally hanging in the camera shot and Dad galunking out of the scene just like Sweetums used to do when he was sad.

When Thalya wasn’t smacking her cell in the palm of her hand, she was going to be doing Malina’s hair and makeup on Pageant Day.  My psychic powers kicked in right about here and I predicted how this whole thing would end up playing out at the end.

Pageant prep wasn’t going any smoother for the other two nuggets, either.  Devin didn’t like to practice and had a super-sized meltdown due to a ‘problem in her brain’ which sounded like something that should have been addressed when she got her chicken pox vaccination.  She crawled under the table and stared at the wall for awhile.

Like Father, Like Daughter I guess.  Groovy, man.

Adrianna was having issues with the new one minute time limit on Beauty Walks, and was struggling to figure out how to cram an additional 30 seconds of finger kisses into the new ruling.  I know the feeling, sister.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And…Tiara Twins Time?

Seriously.  Are we sure that there are really only two of them?

Because these twins are freakin’ everywhere.

Every.  Where.

Even when they’re not the subject of an episode, these two smiley kids somehow manage to score some screen time.  I swear their PR department must be as big as that gigantic transport vehicle they try to hide in the barn, because at least once a week the two girls either make a cameo on T&T or casually walk behind Anderson Cooper right in the middle of his newscast.  Just because they can.

You remember the Twins.

Alycesaundra and Giavanna.  And Mom Kelly.  And Dad Ron.

They live on that farm that grows mud.  Or dirt.  I don’t know.  No one will tell me what secret thing they harvest twice a year so I have to make it up every time they are on TV.

The last time we saw Ron, he was getting his eyeball poked out by a peacock.  And the time before that he was dragging sheep and turkeys across the stage.  And the time before that, he was pulling his wife’s blouse up over her head so all of America could see her…umm…you know.

I already used “The Other Tiara Twins” joke last time, so I’m clearly running out of good jokes about bad boobs.  But we almost saw some stuff.

In widescreen HD.

This time Ron was dressed as a hip hop cop for some reason.  Momentarily anyway, before he stripped down to nothing but his sheer mantihose as Alycesaundra twerked herself off the edge of the stage.

Or at least I think it was Alycesaundra.  I’m still not very good at telling these two girls apart.  That, and that fact that my focus was elsewhere.  Pretty much at Alycesaundra’s height, but trust me…it was elsewhere.  Bow Chick A Tour Bus.

On a slightly more positive note, I can finally check off “See Ron Lyerly rub a police badge on his nibblies” from my Bucket List.

Anyway.  Back to this week’s kiddos.

Thalya blew her second nutty getting Malina ready for Beauty.  Nobody liked Bollywood Bratz’s hair and Thalya was getting cranky.  Dad was on her like I dunno what…and Girlfriend wasn’t having it.

Crazy Liza Minnelli doppelgänger judge Johnny Ray Browning was back for another pageant, being all Fierce in his Joan Rivers Five Easy Payments metallic scarf from QVC and uncomfortably touching that creepy Dateline soul patch a little too often.

Devin had this week’s Last Minute Emergency Pee Panic and had to be air lifted to the restroom ten seconds before she was supposed to be on stage.

Sorry kids, but my girl Paisley Dickey still owns the title of Biggest Pre-Show Pee Queen, so the rest of you can just go in your pants.  Save yourself some stress and don’t even try to steal that one from her if you know what’s good for you.

Or the cheese dip.  Or the boogers.  Cuz there’s only one PDickey in the hizzle, yo.

Go see her movie, though.  Love.  Her.

The Hip Hop portion of the show began with some Sassy Sistah in the audience taking iPhone photos with her brass knuckle cell case that pretty much said all that needed to be said.

The routines went from gender bending baggy shirts and saggy pants to hand painted cheetahs learning how to breakdance in captivity.

FYI…Judge JRB didn’t care for gender bending of any sort, which made me spit Diet Coke out my nose for so many reasons that I can’t even begin to list them right now.

He sure is Fabulous, though, isn’t he?

And then some kids won some stuff.  But not necessarily what they wanted to win.

Including Malina, who only pulled a Novice title.  Which was no big dealio until Dad blamed it on Thalya’s haircare.  Or lack thereof.

OhHellNoHeDidNotJustSayThatGirrrrrrl’mSickOfItThat’sItI’mDone.

Thalya lost her marbles, grabbed her cell phone (…cuz you never know…) and stormed out of the building into the parking lot, screaming, swearing and checking texts the whole way as some poor winded TLC camera guy tried to keep up.

She was a big stinkin’ 24 year old woman, dammit.  A hard 24, maybe.  But still 24.

And just ’bout ready to pop off on someone as soon as she could get her hands on a frying pan, because Thalya don’t play.

Most of what she said was (bleeped) out, except for the parts where she kept talking about how hungry she was after slaving away all day on Malina’s losing hairstyle.

She was done.  She was over it. Nobody disses her mad skills.  Plus, she had munchies that were giving her a tight weave headache.

Thalya ended up abandoning everyone else in the building, leaving them to figure out how to get all their luggage and loser crowns back to NYC as she laid a patch of rubber on the pavement and gunned it for the nearest drive-thru.

(Bleep!)

Word to yo’ Pageant Mama.

You can’t touch this.