On week 4 of Dancing With the Stars season 11, it was bye-bye to Situation, The and his partner Karina Smirnoff. We learned that he had left Monday night's confessional in a fit of rage over his low tango scores. It was either that or his bulging pecs were dying to dance their way out of that little room. Look at Karina, left to roll her eyes alone! It was a SHOCKING SCENE. Not really, though. At the end of the day, it was very clear that The Situation was making an earnest effort. He just wasn't good at ballroom dancing, and the judges never felt like blowing smoke up his lower situation. During The Sitch's final interview, Tom Bergeron, who's used to stretching, told him he'd happened to watch an episode of "The Jersey Shore" with his daughter and would gladly have sat through a marathon. Ommmmmmm.
Bristol Palin/Mark Ballas and Kurt Warner/Anna Tre-BUN-skaya were deemed "in jeopardy" last night. But, as usual, this means nothing! It's almost an insult to your intelligence that I'm even telling you!
Confession on a Dance Floor: When Tom mentioned the miners, I immediately thought of hidden gems.
I Should Not Have Admitted: That.
Dmitry and Chelsie were back for the second night in a row (yes!), and the pros who danced with them to the Goo Goo Dolls were Jason Glover and Chantal Aguirre. Three So You Think You Can Dance alums on one stage! (You could tell by their bare feet and the way much of the dance took place from a seated perch at the edge of a raised platform.) Both of last night's musical-guest performances, along with the Macy's Stars of Dance flurry of very skilled Argentine tango-ers, made me wonder just how much of my life has been spent squinting really hard to determine whether or not the pros in the Tuesday exhibitions are Our Pros. Even though I know that any pro is by definition a lovely dancer, I'm always a tiny bit let down when the camera zooms in and the species in question is not the master race. They're decoys! Ah, the Tuesday night squint. Keep Audrina away from my horror show of a face -- she might get a secondhand wrinkle.
That Florence and the Machine number struck me as something that in a bizarre alternate universe (or maybe the '80s) might make a cool Sesame Street segment on how to count to three. The quick cuts among the tiny circular platforms with either 1, 2, or 3 dancers...the quirky music...the odd, kindly singer-lady floating on a cloud in a rustic gown..I don't know, it just all seemed to fit. The kids at home would get to shout out how many writhing, ballroom-esque dancers they spotted on the different platforms. It would be fun! I guess you'd just have to bank on the children not cowering in fear from the scary creatures clawing at the camera. This is but a wee issue.
Speaking of Florence and the Machine, Mama Brady told Brooke Burke backstage that she had encountered nothing but glowing praise about her randy rumba with Corky on Monday night. Shhhhhh. No one tell Florence Henderson about the internet.
NEXT: The magnetic pull of the Bergeron behind.