Dead Girl Of The Week: Whitney Houston

Warning: Some people may find this post offensive. If you find that you are offended by things that are clearly offensive, then I would recommend you close this blog and visit a more appropriate site for you.

You have been warned.

































Whitney Houston died.













RAWRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHH FUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKKK NOOOOOOOOOOOO SHIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTT

WHY GOD WHY

A short bio on the life of Whitney Houston: Whitney Houston was born in Houston (hence, her name) in 19something9. At the young age of 27, she auditioned for a college musical called Why Are Musicals So Gay? and some very powerful illuminati talent scouts were chillin' in the audience that night. Four months later, she was signed to a record label, and released her first album: Whitney Houston: The Hits, because she figured she'd release a "best of" album immediately, because all of her songs were the best. Shortly afterwards, she started smoking crack. She smoked a lot of crack. Just tons and tons of crack. In an interview with Diane Sawyer, when asked about her crack addiction, Whitney Houston said "Diane, let me make something clear. If there was a 25th hour in each day, I'd smoke crack during that hour, as well as all the other hours. The amount of crack in each of those said hours is enough to instantly kill a healthy race horse. Stevie Wonder considers me to be his mentor. When I eat powdered donuts, I use cocaine instead of powdered sugar. Once, while I was in grade school, I was smoking crack in the front of the class. My teacher stopped the lesson and said 'Whitney, give me that crack pipe', and I asked her why. She said I shouldn't be smoking crack unless I brought enough for everybody, and let me tell you - I did. Have you ever seen a room filled with 30 fifth graders on crack? I have, but I was also on crack at the time."

If I had any advice for Whitney Houston it would be: When you come back as a zombie, do not eat Bobby Brown's brain. It's almost certainly going to be filled with crack cocaine thoughts.

I don't think Whitney Houston and I would make a good couple because she's dead, and I'm not prepared to have sex with a dead body. Like, mentally, I'm just not there. If someone held a gun to my head and said "I want you to fuck a dead body." I'd just have to turn to them and go "No. That's too freaky. I'm not doing that." and just take a bullet to the face. Also, I'm not a very big crack-smoker. In my opinion, crack is a poor person's drug and I'm far too high-class to ever even consider smoking it. Crack is cheap. Crack is stupid.

In memorandum
Whitney Houston
1963 - 2012
We'll miss ya
And all those African kids who starve to death every day