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The Emancipation of Whitney

spingirl | 13 September, 2006 17:29

Hallelujah!! Ring the bells everyone!! Whitney Houston appears to have finally come to her senses and is kicking Bobby Brown to the curb! After 14 years of marriage, Whitney has filed for divorce.

It's about freaking time. One can only guess what caused the absolutely, fabulously talented (and once extremely classy) singer to get rid of her worse half, but as a longtime fan, I hope it means she has also stopped with the *ahem* herbals and not-so-herbals.

Man, I remember back in the '80s how Whitney was the epitome of talent and awesome pop music. Who knows how many times I tape-recorded her songs off the radio (it was what people did before iTunes and CDs, kids. No, I'm not joking.). I mean, it was Whitney, queen of the most popular talent show songs ever mutilated. I even remember watching her on "Silver Spoons" in the episode where she was dating Dexter - man, she was beautiful. And then in the '90s - well, I know I wasn't the only one who went to see "The Bodyguard" in spite of not being close to 17 yet! Ahhh...those were the days.

And then, she met Bobby Brown.


Sure, Bobby was around in the '80s too. He was a member of New Edition and then went solo. The only things memorable about him (to me) was his song "My Prerogative," which, of course, Britney Spears later redid. When news got out the sweet, talented Whitney was dating sleazy, untalented Bobby, my 13-year-old heart sank. How could that happen? Where was Whitney's classy prince? Couldn't she at least have stayed with Dexter on "Silver Spoons?"

Then there was the marriage. And talented, classy Whitney turned into the national punchline that we all know today. So, so, sad. Girl went from winning Grammys to talking about dootie bubbles on a cheesy reality show. How tragic.

But now...!! Hope springs anew. Whitney can finally put it all back together and show the world that the greatest love of all is happening to her! Don't walk in anyone else's shadow, because if you fail, if you succeed, at least you can live as you believe. Whitney, let the children's laughter remind you how you used to be!

So Whitney, here's the plan. Take a month and chill out. Go to a nice rehab spa, send Bobbi Kristina to a really good psychologist, and get yourself together. Then, give ole Clive Davis a phone call, have a good cry, and start talking about that comeback album. Find a really good stylist. Make plans to have a chat on Oprah, preferably somewhat closer to the release of your new fabulous album. Keep repeating to yourself: "Crack is whack."

And make sure you sign those divorce papers. Make it your prerogative.

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