…because after the first 20 minutes, I’m pretty sure no one was. Oy! Please forgive me for cajoling you into watching this. Not even oreos and fountain Mountain Dew (always better than the bottle!) could stop this train from derailing. A certain member of my household who wishes to remain nameless suffered through the first dance routine with me. And together we watched in horror as that poor Alicia girl executed what had to be a painful split not once but twice before being herded onto the scale for the added humiliation of a weigh-in. He then wordlessly handed me the remote and wandered from the room. He got off easily.
Because then came Ruben, with the HAIR! and the see-through SHIRT! and the rhinestone NECKLACE! and the perpetual expression of mild surprise(?). I thought for a moment that Wayne Newton had shown up for his 9 o’clock Vegas act.
It was just too much. Too much of so many different things, I can’t even begin to name them all. I wish all those brave souls the best of luck and hope they find this show to be their path to health and wellness. I just don’t want to have to watch them on their journey.
I think I’ll go watch some Talk Soup or maybe Attack of the Show! (sometimes I pretend I’m Olivia) to cleanse my mental palate and prepare for bed. But like that Stephen King movie IT! with the killer clown, there are just some things you can’t un-watch, and I’m placing Dance Your Ass Off at the top of that list.
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