Dancing With The Judges While They're On The Rag

Buy stock in Midol, because Carrie Ann Inaba, Bruno Tonioli, and especially Len Goodman were suffering from some serious PMS this week.

Call me a silly moose, but I thought the point of having judges there was to provide professional scoring, and to offer constructive criticism so the dancers know what they need to work on. And in the past, that's exactly what happened.

But it's sure not what went down this week. Consider Carrie Ann's comments to John Ratzenberger after his paso doble, which were along the lines of, "I was confused. I didn't know if you were trying to be serious or funny." Okay, yeah, Carrie Baby, that sure does give him some awesome clues as to how to improve his performance.

Or look at Len and Bruno's sage wisdom for Clyde after his waltz: "You're not trying hard enough." Okey dokey, guys, I'm sure Clyde will be much better next week since you gave him such specific items to work on.

(For the record, we all liked Clyde's waltz. It looked like a very tall uncle dancing with his niece at her wedding. It wasn't steaming hot, but as the big-titted secretary pointed out, the waltz isn't supposed to be. It's supposed to have an innocence and purity about it.)

All this PMS'ing happened because Len procured the records for how many hours each couple had practiced in the preceding week. Those who spent a lot of time got praised, and those who didn't clock the hours got anally reamed.

No doubt Clyde's asshole still hurts.

And his partner sure didn't do much to salve his inflamed rectal port. She pretty much threw him under the bus, whining about how "laid back" (that's pronounced "lazy" in Len-Land) he is, and bitching that he's often late.

Way to go, Elena! No wonder they keep giving you sucky partners. You don't know jack shit about teamwork.

Laila's ass-pounding was almost as bad as Clyde's, I guess because she was once again more focused on her Black Hitler Jugen rallies than on working out her issues with her partner, and fucking learning the paso doble.

In her and Maks' defense, their music was awful. It was from Carmen, but it sounded more like Looney Tunes. And she had a big, dopey, shit-eating grin on her face the whole time. That's not a very good paso mug, Laila.

You would think she could have managed a frown, because their antipathy was obvious again this week. It's like watching Who's Afraid Of Virginia Wolf? play out in the practice studio and on the stage. Their toxic chemistry makes them almost uncomfortable to watch.

Almost. But then there's that little part of you that is practically salivating in anticipation of the full-contact death match. May the best man win.

And once again, her costume was a disaster. I had read that she wasn't going to wear a dress again until she lost some weight, and she should have stuck to that, because the one she was wearing made her look lumpy. It was the color of various citrus fruits, and all she needed was a bowl of fruit on her head to complete the look.

I actually wonder what Laila Ali is going to do after this show. The boxing world doesn't much want her back, since she's protecting her titles by taking easy fights. Until she's ready to fight Ann Wolfe and Letitia Robinson, no one's really interested in her.

(And no, Laila, making the rounds of the talk shows claiming both women are afraid to fight you is not a substitute for copping to the truth about why those fights haven't taken place, which is all the obstacles you and your manager have put up. Nobody who knows the sport is buying your bullshit.)

So that leaves... what? A career as a dancer?

*snicker*

Some people have suggested that she have a talk show. Um... No. Women who look and sound like men don't get their own talk shows. Others have said she should be an actress. Right. Because there's a real market in Hollywood for her "type."

*double snicker*

But as always, there were high points in the show, that even the Judges On The Rag couldn't bring down. One was Apolo and Julianne's waltz. Coming on the heels of their most excellent Pulp Fiction tribute jive last week, it was even more refreshing.

Billy Ray's paso to Black Betty wasn't bad for a clompy guy. And I enjoyed it even more because he made Karina cry during rehearsals. (Yeah, I AM a bastard.)

And there was Bruno's unintentional funny when he called Ion "McStiffy." It was about to get even funnier when Carry Ann started to explain to him what a stiffy is, but they cut her off.

Speaking of stiffys, how do the male stars dancing with the female pros do it? I swear to god, if I had to try to keep hip contact with one of those babes, with their perfect bodies and itty bitty costumes, we'd have to leave a couple of feet of expansion space for my cock.

And on that note, just let me say, lighten up, judges. Your show isn't fun to watch when you're all bitchy and surly.

Thank you in advance for taking your Midol.

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