I Will Always Love Crack: Whitney Houston Dies

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Don't fear the Reaper...
Saving All My Crack For You…

Okay, she could sing. Could, as in past tense. Twenty years ago. But what we know now is an empty shell of a person, one scooped clean by alcohol and dope.

I never listened to her music. I wasn’t then and am not today into pop music. But I recognize the talent for carrying a worthy tune.

Doesn’t matter. The future will remember Whitless, er, Whitney Houston in much the same way as JFK, except of course, that singers are a dime a dozen and true leaders are extinct. The Whit will be remembered as in, what could have been, but wasn’t. Whitless- I mean Whitney could have been a great singer. But she chose to be a drug addict.

Billie Holiday, she ain’t.

Anyone really surprised about the seeming lack of tributes to the gal? You shouldn’t be. This wasn’t someone who spent her fame and millions by helping needy children, or educating African villages about AIDS. This was a drunk with mismatched, wet clothing, always high, doing handstands by the pool, getting into fights with party guests. It’s tiring having people like this around. It’s useless. It takes too much energy to put up with them.
Billie Holiday, she ain’t.

Her interviews showed who she was, if you care to listen. She didn’t talk about benefit concerts or her new album. She talked about getting high. Because that’s what’s important to an addict. By some reports, this particular addict blew through 100 million dollars. As she told Diane Sawyer, “I make too much money to be smokin’ crack. Crack is wack.”

Yeah, you’ll be missed, Whitney. Like the Ghost of Christmas Past, once a year we’ll say, remember Whitney Houston?

Then again, maybe we won’t.

Ah, dope. The Greatest Love of All…


Trouble coming


The descendant: troubled daughter
Bobbi Kristina Brown

Just say no to Dad

So I guess this is Goodbye.