Another year, another shitty gymnastics and skating "spectacular" to enjoy on a balmy January Sunday, sandwiched in between golf and probably more golf.
Couple of random teeny-bopper pop stars, the eternal Bart Connor and Nadia Comaneci, and of course, Nastia.
Oh, and Subway sandwiches.
So our super awesome, totally not annoying show starts with the inevitable dressing up of the gymnasts like bizarre little Avril Lavigne penguins.
Nastia was there.
The gentlemen were wearing some stunning mustard yellow pants. Whoever the costume designer was for this really needs a raise. I mean, pink fringe bikinis in 2008, and now this? Pure genius.
We'll see the first of much pointing in this show, hereto referred as pointography. It is the central theme. The gymnasts point to the figure skaters, the skaters point back to the gymnasts. Really compelling stuff.
Everyone does the limbo underneath Catalina Ponor's crotch, and all gather to pose and do some more pointing.
Oh yeah. That is some aggressive pointing right there. Without wasting any time, the Nastia Show finally begins.
This highly touted routine, choreographed by the great Travis Wall, begins with Nastia taking a snooze on the floor.
She wakes up, rolls around a little, and begins her morning stretches.
If Travis Wall can't get this bitch to fix her wrists, I should probably just give up on life.
I will say that Nastia hits some lovely shapes in the routine, and really has the hairography down. In terms of actual gymnastics, our princess caps out at some backhandsprings, an onodi, and a cartwheel. You just know even Travis was a little butthurt by this. He's like
Travis: "Yes! An Olympic champion, doing MY choreography! I can't wait to create a masterpiece!
OK Nast. Here I'd like to see you do a twirly jump (ed. note: He probably knows the name for this. I do not.) into a side aerial."
Travis: "Balls. OK, what will you do?"
Nastia: "I will give you a cartwheel."
I'm sure that's exactly how it went down. Speaking of getting down, someone who knows a thing or two about it is Miss Beth Tweddle.
This lovely young lady is singing a song about something or another, when Beth comes strutting out. And by strutting I mean doing some sort of caveman thing.
I wish I could figure out the gif thing, because this was really too majestic for pictures to do justice.
But Beth quickly gets things back on track by really being on her pointing game.
She wraps up her performance with a little grape-vining, and really, who doesn't love grape-vining?
Then she stumbles on the corner of the floor. We've all been there.
Jordyn freshens up our palates a bit by busting out some classic Miss Val choreo on beam. A couple of fancy wrist twirlies, some sassy snapping-
The popular hand slide-
And lest we forget, the POINTING!
I feel as though this routine had a lot of Zamography in it. Jordyn also had the cajones to actually do gymnastics on the beam. A back tuck, and a side aerial? Not too shabby.
Now it's time for a quick break from all that GYMNASTICS. Nastia tries to make us believe that she eats Subway for breakfast and lunch every single day of her life. I would eat my hat if I had solid proof of her eating at Subway once, ever. And actually eating a sandwich from Subway, not bringing sushi to Subway and eating it there.
Next up on beam is the divine Catalina Ponor. Clad in an overcoat and Nastia-heels.
You know Nastia was totally upset that she didn't think of this routine. Brandon Wynn stars as the Mike Canales to Catalina's Dominique, and Cata saucily strips him down.
Nothing screams "Oxytrol for Women" like a man wearing a bow tie with no shirt. Ponor takes a cue from Jordyn and actually does gymnastics, by mounting with an impressive press handstand. I'll take one of those any day, Progressive shitshow or not. She does a few leaps, two front aerials, which hey, is better than no front aerials. She seduces Brandon/Mike Canales by lustfully groping the beam.
Then Cata and Brandon walk off to the hotel together. Again, I'm sure that's exactly how it happened.
Then a tragedy is thrust upon us all.
Apparently, there is an I Love Lucy museum in whatever town this show was filmed in. That's just fine. I happen to be a big I Love Lucy fan. Lucille Ball was THE comedian of the century. She was a very physical comedian, back in a day when all the studios were stuffed with pretty women doing pretty women things. Lucy wasn't afraid to not be pretty, and in that, she was gorgeous.
So imagine my horror when Nastia shows up, dolled up in some cheap Lucy-wannabe garb. SHE'S NOT EVEN WEARING A RED WIG. I cannot even. I'm going to go ahead and assume that Nastia did not bother to watch even a minute of I Love Lucy, and just figured it was a 50's show about a nice 50's couple. Hence the skipping around and blowing kisses to her ice-skating Ricky. AS IF LUCY WOULD BLOW KISSES TO RICKY.
Fake ass Lucy does some pretty poses on beam, and then races off to the floor to do not one, but two cartwheels in a row. This is what your tickets paid for, people.
Well isn't that just spit-on-your-face, kick-you-in-the-crotch fantastic?
The show mercifully ends with everyone clad in white all pointing at each other. But not before Nastia, Catalina, and Jordyn rip off Cher's move in Clueless, while wearing white nighties.
And there you have it, folks. Fine Craptacular entertainment.