Toddlers and Tiaras

18 Nov

There is most definitely something psychotic about a 4 year old:


  • …In a bustier…Singing Lady Marmelade…probably throwing condoms at the judges.
  • …With hair volume rivaling* mine (*And by rivaling I mean hand-feeding my lifeless, fine hair shit for breakfast after a swift demeaning insult about how it belongs in the kitchen baking).
  • …Giving me better makeup tips than the ancient Macy’s Clinique worker.
  • …Dropping it like its hot then crying off the 50 layers of mascara tediously applied by the mother after losing to that 1/2 Puerto Rican 3rd grade bimbo, who wore a red wig and sang “Tomorrow” from Annie.

I know that I can’t possibly be the only person who is MAJORLY creeped out by the entire cast* (*circus freaks) of Toddlers and Tiaras. As you all know, summer is upon us, so I’ve been spending every second being productive. This includes activities such as:

  • Drinking heavily.
  • Only eating freeze pops.
  • Reading Chelsea Handler and David Sedaris books.
  • Drinking heavily.
  • Sleeping 10+ hours per day.
  • Watching Rock of Love intentionally on Netflix.
  • Drinking heavily, meeting new friends.
  • Googling things like: leprosy, golden retriever puppies, what cat fits my personality and good jokes.
  • Not laughing at all when watching the South Park episode when the internet goes out (because that’s a scary thought, annnd because that one isn’t really all that funny, in particular).

I was visiting perezhilton.com, and an ad for T’s&T’s was playing. As I was scrolling past the information that actually depletes the brain cells I have (which is fine, because I have a plethora. Look at that stellar vocab). I saw what I thought was a transexual midget. Intrigued, I clicked on the link. It turned out to be a link to TLC, the channel of toddlers, tiaras, sister wives, and a number families who dont seem to understand the concept of birth control. TLC is supposed to be a channel that is great for families (well, by families, I mean moms, but it’s all friendly programming). As I navigated the shows I realized that TLC is like that Monopoly game that McDonalds has annually. The original premise of the whole thing seems promising; You purchase some starchy, sodium packed food, eat it, feel guilty, but hey, you won 5 million dollars after getting Broadway and Park Place. Then you flake your nails trying to peel off the silly little things to realize that you’re stuck with two stupid Monopoly tabs for an entire weeks’ worth of bloating and probably flatulence. Like those peel off tabs, one sits down to watch a various show on TLC, say Toddlers and Tiaras, and has feelings similar to this…


I Hulu-ed Toddlers and Tiaras, and to my disdain, it could only offer me clips; either way, I obliged. Excited to watch the transformations of various Toddlers to little baby Trannies, the first few minutes involved Tootie Berg. I learned that Tootie, a particularly horrendous name, was the little spray-tanned 8 year old’s stage name; like a stripper. I watched as she discussed her multiple personalities (sic disorder). In real life, Tootie goes by Madison. Madison partakes in behaving in church and playing soccer, while Tootie is the bat shit crazy alter ego who struts her stuff to “Lets Talk About Sex” in front of the judges. If you ask me, Madison drew the short end of the Sybil stick.By the end of the clip I pondered if little Tootie/Madison was aware of the final outcome of her hard work, which would most likely end with her taking the spotlight in another reality TV show; RuPaul’s Drag Race. 


I decided to stop looking at such clips after  I watched an apparent two-year old dance to “Like a Virgin” in a gold, lamé onesy…Complete with a cone bra. Isn’t “Like A Virgin” about felatio?? Sure, when I was two, my closet was as jam packed with lingerie as my head was with sexually suggestive dance moves, but I would only partake in such activities in the privacy of my own room. Another mother taught her daughter a dance routine in which the contestant literally spread her legs (ok, did the splits), blew a kiss and winked at perfect strangers; a lesson most do not personally learn until the time comes to pay for college by becoming a “dancer”. 


I was astounded by the amount of money the insane mothers are shelling out to maintain their mini Femme-Bots. Mothers claim to spend an average of 70 grand per year. It’s pathetic and hilarious to hear a mother say that, and watch her load all of the beauty pageant necessities into her Ford Pinto, as her bratty Malibu baby is whining about the rash she’s getting on her face from her morning chemical peel/lipo. The day goes on, and the talent competition takes place. 


My attention is focused on the little creeps who are actually in the competition, and then I realize the delight in watching the camera pan to the mothers watching their children. While viewing this, one really sees the insanity in  the eyes of the parents, moist and glimmering like a choppy lake spiked with speed and ecstacy. They mirror the  robotic routine that they made up for their silly daughters, looking exactly like what anyone would expect them to look like: a psychopath dancing alone in a room of spectators. They mimic everything that their daughters do onstage, including the same smile that Jeffrey Dahmer probably sported as he was putting human remains in his fridge…cray-crayy.  


Overall, there are a lot of things about society and culture that make me seriously worried for what to expect in the future. If Botox injections and spray tans are ok today. I predict that nose jobs and implants will be yesterday’s news by the time I have my first child. I’m sure I’m not the only one who sees it morally wrong to make these girls feel like they need to look like a cheap mannequin as soon as they can walk. Can you imagine talking to a girl who has been high maintenance her entire life? One cany only hope that all of the years of constant Redbull chugging, Pixi-Stick snorting, high kicking, and tightly fitting sequined unitards would somehow stunt the reproductive organs…Then again, I can forsee a Toddlers and Tiaras: ADOPTED AND FABULOUS as a show that would for sure skyrocket. You’re welcome, TLC.

Ciao, Bellas.


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