It’s been a week since the traumatic event touched down like swine flu at Miss Piggy’s family reunion in Puerto Vallarta, but the wounds are still fresh, so it’s taken me a while to be able to write about it. What tragedy has befallen me, you ask? What cruel twist of fate wound its way into my personal domain, and made my happy heart a barren wasteland of…barrenicity (What? It’s a word. It’s a word because I SAY it’s a word.)? The reason for my single Native American litter-gazing tear is because…

…Lil’ Kim got kicked off “Dancing With The Stars”. 


Lil Kim and her partner, Booty. I mean, Derrick.

Lil' Kim and her partner, Booty. I mean, Derrick.

The fact that I watch DWTS is not relevant to this tale – it’s common knowledge, especially if you’re my friend on Facebook. I talk about it frequently. So if you got jokes, bring ’em out now. I’ll wait.

(Nice one. I haven’t heard that one before. Huzzah.)

All done? Good. Let’s continue.

Sure, she came into the show as a controversial figure with rap albums and a rap sheet. She’s an ex-con with a bit too much (OK, a lot too much) plastic surgery and a penchant for saying words that would make Italian Merchant Marine blush. In short (and she’s very short), she didn’t stand a chance against the more clean-cut and relatively unknown stars also on the program, because the simple truth is that viewer voting is what keeps dancers on week to week, and who could imagine throngs (not thongs, dirty birds) of people purposely voting for the woman who is best known for her explicit lyrics about her sexual prowess? But then a funny thing happened on her way to a Week 3 exit: she could really dance. Well.

No doubt the fact that she dances in her videos and live performances gives her a boost, but shaking your ass to “How Many Licks” isn’t quite the same as performing an Argentine Tango in front of professional ballroom dancers and a live studio audience. But instead of just mailing it in, happy that her manager and publicist were able to get her on national television for a couple of weeks (see P, Master and Mayne, Kenny), she dedicated herself to really trying, to putting in the work and the long hours and the frustration to master an art form that was as foreign to her as Foreigner is to crackheads in the Bronx. She wasn’t just serviceable; she was really good. And not only in the sambas and salsas and all the booty-shaking dances – she was good in the waltzes and the quick step and pretty much all the other styles, too. She was good. Top-tier talent on the show, capable of winning the whole shebang.  And as she performed, people voted. She shed her image like a blinged-out snakeskin, displaying the dancing butterfly beneath. (And yes, I just mixed snakes and butterflies. Roll with me here, people.)


Im a snake butterfly! A snakerfly!

I'm a snake butterfly! A snakerfly!

She made it through the Steve-O’s and the Belinda Carlisles and the Lawrence Taylors, and becaome one of the elite few, once of the Final Five. These five were all great dancers – well, almost all. Gilles, Lil’ Kim, Melissa, and Shawn the Fireplug Gymnast are phenomenal. However, Number Five (who incidentally dances like Number Five from the movie “Short Circuit”) is Ty, a.k.a Mr. Jewel the Bullrider. And he is not good. He’s not bad, but if the other four are, say, in the 11th grade, then Ty is a 6th grader on academic probation. He’s just not nearly as good as the others, even though he tries very, very hard every week. That quality is admirable, but shouldn’t be grounds for him continuing to take up space and oxygen where he doesn’t belong. And last week, despite dancing like a man with no knees walking on crutches on ball bearings, and despite that the judges gave him 7’s and gave Kim 9’s, when the voting was tallied, he was standing there wearing an O mouth, and Kim was saying her goodbyes to the audience. Even his partner looked like “Um, what the eff just happened here?” when they made the announcement. And Kim was graceful in defeat, all smiles and thank-yous and everything. I, on the other hand, expressed my outrage in a socially acceptable and very adult manner – by screaming at the TV and calling for the utter destruction of the entire enterprise, its producers, ABC, and television as a concept. I wanted flames. 

Instead, I have 3 really good dancers and one garden gnome with the moves of a popcicle stick still remaining. And this lovely creature is sitting at home now.


Doesnt she look bored and sad? DOESNT SHE?

Doesn't she look bored and sad? DOESN'T SHE?

Farewell, Lil’ Kim. You were a bright blacklight on the black, lint-infested shirt called Dancing With The Stars. The show is lesser without you, and I hope the people who didn’t vote for you mistake a cactus for toilet paper. 


I cant believe you voted AGAINST this.

I can't believe you voted AGAINST this.