If Miss Carla really wants hot Mr. Tony’s heart, I guess I could string him up, cut it out and leave it in the mailbox for her.
The name is Fierce. Justin Fierce. And I like my martinis…and my big booty…shaken, not stirred.
MmmMmm. That Mr. Tony is smooth as Nutella. I’m ’bout to spread all that on my Big Girl cracker.
How you doin’?. Looks like Heaven must be missing an angel. And there’s a couple of tasty thigh pieces missing from the KFC Bucket, too.
Trust me. As soon as I’m done calling in some take-out, I’m gonna show that fine Mr. Tony how we do it down at Lane Bryant.
Oh. Hell. No. That Bitch did not just steal my look.
Excuse me? What are you looking at? I got this, honey.
Ok. First things first, before we even get to the sparkly stuff.
I love me some Carla Smith.
Director for Starz N Glitz Pageants and Honorary Sass Ambassador for loud and proud Big Girls everywhere, Miss Carla is like some LSD induced technicolor cartoon that climbs out of your television set and just slaps you in the face with whatever hand isn’t holding a hoagie.
Love. Her.
I actually love her so much that I’m going to allow her to be the Designated Driver when I go clubbing with my Universal Royalty girlfriend Annette Hill.
One. Because Annette and I will wreck that club and we’ll need a getaway car, and probably some Ultimate Grand Supreme bail money, too.
Two. I can’t imagine Carla with liquor insider her. Bitch is cray cray when she’s sober.
Wearing one of those floral headband contraptions that used to be reserved only for babies with no hair when they were having their pictures taken at Kmart, Miss Carla broke it all down for us before the Starz N Glitz Fiesta Pageant.
It was un tema españolas. A Spanish theme. Der.
According to Miss Carla, it was going to be all about kids wearing big spanish flamenco dancer dresses and big matador hats, all accessorized with even bigger hair and bigger teeth. The bigger the better.
By the time she called it Pageant Pimping, I decided that she should have my babies.
Love. Her.
Our first contestant was 4 year old Alyssa and Mom AmyLeigh.
Alyssa was a cutie blessed with big stuffed animal eyes and a gift for non-stop nonsensical rambling. Not the kind of monosyllabic gibberish nonsense that is said with a mouthful of strained carrots before your baby teeth come in, but the kind of multisyllabic nonsense that…well…just doesn’t make sense.
Q. How do you feel today? A. Like a chicken nugget.
Q. What dress do you want to wear today? A. Unicorns can drive spaceships.
That kind. But her cuteness made up for it. Except for when she admitted to kicking anyone in the crotch who stole her crown. How does a 4 year old even know that word, or how much it hurts to have it publicly wailed on in a hotel ballroom?
Been there. Done that.
Mom fawned all over Alyssa’s facial beauty and admitted that looks really do matter in today’s society, since no one has ever had the guts to come right out and say that their ugly child was going to grow up to be president. Let’s just leave that debate to the chat rooms and we can all reload and head over to deer country.
Moving past the plastic hunting target lawn ornaments and freshly planted shrubbery, we met up with 7 year old Ariana and Grandma Pam.
They should have both looked familiar to everyone from Ariana’s first appearance a few years back, where she struggled to find the balance between Glitz Pageants and cutting out a reindeer’s vital organs while it was trussed upside down on the front door of her family’s lawnmower shed.
Yeah. That Ariana.
The one who liked to hunt ‘em and then cut ‘em in the belly. And cut ‘em in the face. And cut their eyes off to make dangly earrings and then climb inside the hollowed out carcass like she was Luke Skywalker in a snowstorm.
Such a handful she was back then.
But now Ariana was older, and liked to plant flowers and trees instead of blowing open deer skulls. Those days are over, thank you, though she did appear to have regressed a bit on the day that she scalped a Pittsburgh Steeler fan and secured their hair on to her Ya Ya Pat‘s head with terry cloth velcro.
Seriously. Great-Grandma was only missing the face paint and a beer bong. The logos were all blurred out like gang signs, but I’m pretty sure she was supporting her team and not the Kings or Cripps.
New Rule: When Carla drives me and Annette to that club, bat s*** crazy Ya Ya Pat is riding shotgun. She was that crazy. And you know how I love me some lunacy after a hard day at work.
Ariana was less stuffed animal Alyssa eyes and more teeny Beanie Baby buttons, but still smiley cute and liked to talk out of one side of her mouth like she was Popeye.
The third princess wannabe on the other hand, was so quiet I almost missed her segment. I mean, soooo quiet. Hunting Wabbits quiet.
Even her name was so quiet that they dropped the last silent “e.” Shy 3 1/2 year old Natali and Mom Holly didn’t have much to say since the little princess shut down in front of the cameras every time she was asked a question, though we were able to ascertain that Natali was still being nursed.
Wha–?! Yeah. At 3 1/2 years old.
So while Natali was taking it all in, I shot all my milk out my nose and then didn’t know what to say either. No wonder she’s so quiet. I guess when there’s something in your mouth all the time you don’t really need to do much talking around the house.
Mom explained that she would do whatever it took to help Natali come out on top at every pageant, though it wasn’t really clear if she was referring to spending oodles of money on cupcake dresses or whipping it out in the middle of the Food Court and fueling her up with some kind of cosmic super powered pageant fuel.
That chat room is going to be buzzing this weekend.
When Natali wasn’t working on her bone density, she was really cute. Like those paintings of the circus clowns with really big eyes and foreheads. When they took her out into the woods next to some abandoned car for some new photos, they seemed even bigger if that was possible, but she still didn’t have much to say on the matter.
Her teeth looked really strong, though.
And then there was Justin.
Justin Fierce. From Fierce by Justin.
West Virginia’s own pretty feet guru made the trip over to Ariana’s to show them all how the Queen’s werk it for the judges.
Oh, Justin.
First off, he was wearing the same Kmart baby headband that Carla was rocking.
I know, right? What are the chances?
Except his looked a little less floral and a little more shower loofah puff tied to your head with a piece of string. But that bitch can probably make anything work.
Even whatever that Klump O’ Blonde thing was on his forehead. Don’t ask me. I’m not sure what it was, but I know he wasn’t born with it unless they cut it off of one thing down there and re-attached it to another thing up there. And since it didn’t match the texture of his own Brillo hair, it was probably one of those clip-on, glue-on, two sided tape-on things from Claire’s that was stuck up there to cover a receding hairline.
The plaid shirt was a nice touch, too. Like he had come straight from the Drag Show to a staff meeting in the GAP stockroom but nobody had the nerve to tell him to go to the bathroom and check his head.
Grandma Pam had ordered a miniaturized drag queen gown from some random drag queen gown place, which was a little creepazoid if you really stopped and wondered why a place that caters to 7 foot tall drag queens would even know how to make a pre-school sized Osh Kosh B’gosh dress, much less have a pattern template already laying around on a shelf next to the boob foam.
Justin tried to squeeze himself into the dress when no one was looking and Ya Ya was wearing the World’s Best Pug Puppy Face t-shirt ever. Ever.
That’s all you really need to know.
After Alyssa hit the salon, got hosed down with some spray tan, made up a few more nonsensical words and tried to get her new hairpiece died to match the stuff coming out of her actual head (…yeah, I’m talking to you Justin…) it was just about time to go glitz.
Dat’s rite. Showtime!
And maybe Love Connection time, too. Because Emcee Mr. Tony was in the hizzle and Miss Carla was having a hard time keeping her high waisted Big Girl panties on.
Mr. Tony was so fine, and Miss Carla was dying to pull out her Singer and sew him a tuxedo made out of boyfriend material, asap.
By the time Mr. T did his side to side slow motion swagger dance and blinged off a toothpaste commercial sparkle smile, Miss Carla was pretty much ready to just pile all the crowns and money in the middle of the lobby and let the girls go at it like raw meat while she dragged some ManCandy up to her room before the comped TLC reservation expired.
I momentarily thought of inviting him along when we all go clubbing, but Miss Carla wouldn’t be able to keep her hands on the wheel and I really didn’t want someone pulling my dead body out from under Ya Ya and then having to call my parents and explain that hot mess.
Mr. Tony was a smooth operator, and Miss Carla came up with every excuse in the book to stand directly behind his firm, Grecian Formula a** during crowning.
I got your Grand Supreme right here, honey. MmmMmm.
The prep work for the pageant went as it always does, but at least this time nobody got locked out of their room. I think that shtick is already played out.
Alyssa rambled the entire time she was in the hotel room, until I thought someone was going to mace her with Aqua Net. For a second I also thought Honey Boo Boo‘s Mama was doing everyone’s hair, but I was mistaken. Close, but no cigar.
Since it was Pageant Day, Justin had put his chunky monkey blonde piece in going in the opposite direction for an edgy change of pace. I didn’t ask. I guess one way is casual, one way is dressy. Even his hair goes both ways.
For Beauty, Natali wanted to go onstage by herself instead of with Daddio, which totally freaked Mom out when she saw it happen live and in person. Of course when Natali made it on to the stage she froze, but at least she was learning some independence.
Next thing you know she’ll be drinking pasteurized.
The only differences between Beauty and Fiesta Wear were a few more ruffles and that annoying muzak from On The Border restaurant. Olé!
Ariana’s coach had changed her routine on the ride over, so she kind of lost it a little on stage. C’mon lady. Even I now you don’t change a routine right before the performance. You don’t see Celine doing that, do you?
Natali went onstage alone again, and spaced out again, but was pretty gosh darn excited. When she bragged about it after the fact, you got a quick glimpse of how freakin’ huggable she really is under all that shyness. She’s a keeper.
Then some kids won some stuff.
The judges were tough, and looked a lot like those three women who sold tickets at the church rummage sale last fall. But they knew there glitz stuff and took no prisoners.
None of the threebies won the big title, which was kind of a kick in the crotch after all that hard work and drama.
But the girls all got crowns and toys. So it was a good day to be a princess.
Just ask Justin.
Werk.
