When Miss Tennessee's age pops up at the bottom of the screen as 19 years old, I am dead shocked. Her bleach blond, over-teased hair with an orange tan, sinewy muscles, decorated with enough eye liner to make an 8th grade girl jealous and a shade of red lipstick only my grandmother could love make her look like a tramped up trophy wife of a car wash magnate. I didn't see one in the competition last night that looked under the age of 25 --- and I was being generous. Most of them looked like they were in their late 30's and weren't dealing with their aging. Add to that the fact that their teeth are so over whitened they look inhuman, and they just look odd.
Don't get me wrong. Their bodies are pretty smoking. I don't have the guts to get up there in a swimsuit. (No, literally, I don't have the guts. My gut is all squishy and white. They have very nice guts you could probably bounce a quarter off.) But the Miss America organization has, for several years, put limitations on the swimsuits that make them look even more off. They have a "no side-boob" policy so the swimwear looks quite "industrial." If they are going to make these girls prance around in heals and a bikini, at least let them pick one that looks good!

But maybe letting them chose wouldn't be the best idea. The winner, Miss Wisconsin, chose a fabulous black evening gown with lace top and cap sleeves. The back was to die for. However, Miss Alabama showed a little less style. The kind of style that Clinton and Stacy normally intervene in.

After the first hour I start to lose interest, but the talent segment was surprisingly good. If I were in the pageant, I would have to enter my talent as snarky blogging. I was pleased there wasn't so much bad singing (yes, there was some). Most of the talents, I have derived, are things the girls did until 6th grade. Then a few years later, when they enter the pageant circuit, they have to have a talent, so they pick it back up. Hence, all the horrible interpretive dance and bad pointe ballet. Unfortunately, Miss Texas, picked a lovely talent that she looked horrible doing.

Later in the evening, Claire started throwing a cross between a screaming tantrum fit and a mosh pit dance. Daddy threw down the, "What in the world are you screaming about!" She replied she was doing a dance and singing. It was the "Tomato Pup." We laughed as she threw her arms around and moaned and screamed. Brad and i looked at each other like she might have completely lost it. After about 10 minutes, Brad put it together..."Are you singing Opera like that girl?" (Tomato Pup? Opera? You only notice the similarity when you have a preschooler) Yes! She was.

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