In Defense of Bobby Brown (that girl was Poison)

Hey America, please quit blaming Bobby Brown for Whitney Houston’s death.  Last time I checked, Whit had full control of her own nostrils and esophagus.

Just because Bobby’s pinky fingernail is about 5 inches long, that doesn’t mean that he forced Whit to snort away.

Just because they had a reality show that clearly exhibited to the world their incredible addiction problems, doesn’t mean it was his fault.

Just because Kevin Costner was trying to be the first whitey to hit Whit’s skins doesn’t mean…..well, that isn’t really relevant, I just wanted to throw that in there because it sounded cool.

In defense of Bobby, he sang about Whit before they were even married;

“She’s so fly, She’ll drive you right out of your mind.  Steal your heart when you’re blind. Beware she’s schemin’, she’ll make you think you’re dreamin’. You’ll fall in love and you’ll be screamin’ demon, hoo.  That girl is poison.  Never trust a big butt and smile. Poison. She’s dangerous.” Poison by New Edition

Wow, such eerily prophetic words from the pop-glam R&B studs.  Has anyone ever considered that Bobby is essentially an R&B Nostradamus?

He knew well before that Whit was poison, but he couldn’t stay away.

When opened, Whit’s lady-parts must have been like parting the Red Sea, like Unicorns dancing in the clouds, like the best Philly Cheese-steak; well, you get the picture.

But Hey America, no one ever forced Whit to ride the dragon (I don’t mean Bobby’s dick), to snort her life away, to swallow every pill her doctor gracefully prescribed her. 

Wake up America, Whit was and Bobby is rich, black trash and she died because she was weak.  Whether she drowned or her heart exploded, who fucking cares?

She had every advantage that normal people never have.  She could afford the best doctors, the best chefs, the best therapists and she still chose to be a piece of shit.

Hey America, we all should have clapped when she died because that was one less drug addict in our country.  Instead, the masses cried for someone who sang songs for a living and for someone they only knew through their televisions and radios.

In life, the strong will survive.  Whether you like it or not, so far Bobby is stronger than Whit was.

“Everything has been figured out, except how to live.” Jean-Paul Sartre

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