Posts Tagged ‘Crumping’

The benifits of looking after your parents house whilst they are in Germany are many. There’s the fact that you can turn the heater on without feeling too guilty. The fact that the lounge isn’t tiled. The swimming pool in summer. The DSTV. And that I can watch America’s Next Top Model in glorious 32″ LCD flatscreen glory. Beautiful.

Last week the redheaded stepchild was sent home. I liked her, in the way that she had balls. Unfortunately I also strongly suspect that she was a lesbian, and she may have been sent home after peeking at the other girls in the shower. I’m only saying it because no-one else is. But that was last week.

This week’s ‘skill’ the girls had to learn was the art of multi-tasking. ‘Task’ might be a bit of a strong word though. What they had to do, was walk down a catwalk (already a challenge for some), and take off a jacket. At the same time. The poor girls made it seem like a very difficult task indeed. So, to see just how difficult it was, I walked to the kitchen and took off my nightgown (at the same time! And yes, I wear a nightgown. Do you know how cold it is?). No problem. I then made myself a coffee, put on the robe and then, whilst walking back to lounge, had not one, but several sips of coffee. I am totally America’s Next Top Model.

Multi-Tasking. Even this guy can do it. AND he took the picture.

Multi-Tasking. Even this guy can do it. AND he took the picture.

Earlier on in the evening I bumped into MusicLady on Twitter, and we had a great Twitter dissing session whilst the show was happening (I know. I need a life). Her contribution to the girl’s general lack of basic motor control: “they are retards. youre taking off a jacket, not assembling a rocket ship! tools!” What amused me even more than the girls not being able to walk, was the extend to which the tranny runway coach was either hungover or coming down from whatever drugs. It was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the flamboyant, homosexual, bald, pencil-moustached, overweight twins which followed.

This led to the mini challenge, which was essentially, once again, a wonderful exercise in stereotyping. The challenge took place in a church, and the girls were outfitted in clothing best described as NunSlut. Right from the over-zealous black minister to the hand fans held by the audience, I had swallow the little bit of puke that made it up the back of my throat.

Meanwhile, back at the palace of all things Tyra, Nnenna was once again on the phone to her boyfriend. For hours. This obviously pissed Brooke off, leading to her spewing the hatred of: “What makes her special, she’s from Africa. Well go back to Africa then!” Oh bitchy bitchy Brooke. You just can’t say things like that. Especially if you come from Texas. People will make assumptions.

This is the best picture based joke of Texas I could find. Sorry.

This is the best picture based joke of Texas I could find. Sorry.

But now for the scariest part. The final photo shoot.

For this shoot the girls had to model a pair of shoes (all of which were fugly as shit). Cool, no problem. We can do shoes. The girls were then told that for this shoot they would have to dance. Cool, no problem here either. The style of dancing would be something known as crumping, a form of hip-hop dancing featuring clowns. Wait, what? Did I just use hip-hop and clown in the same sentence? I think I did.

Now imagine this, dancing to hip-hop.

Now imagine this, dancing to hip-hop.

I struggled to find a good definition for crumping. You know, one that will tell me the influences of the dance, certain moves, etc. I couldn’t find any. Urbandictionary did however provide me with an excellent alternative definition:

Crumping The act of dressing up as a crumpet. Covering yourself with butter and jam and then through a series of dance like shaking movements attempting to remove them before your competitors.
Man that was the worst crumping I have ever seen, you were as fresh as just out of the packet.
So besides hardcore clown dancing, the ladies managed to get some nice shots of the ugly shoes. When it came to elimination time and Tyra put on her serious voice, Jade’s ego got inflated just a little bit more, and Leslie got sent home.

Which one was Leslie?
Oh yeah, that one. See what I meant with the clowns?

Oh yeah, that one. See what I meant with the clowns?


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