Crack IS Wack!

 

I was like most girls in the late 80’s, early 90’s. I would dance in the mirror wearing a scrunchie in my hair and leg warmers. Whitney Houston’s songs would be blasting on the boom box. For those of you in your 20’s, a boom box was a portable radio with a cassette tape player that you could carry on your shoulder. If you were rich you had one with two tape players. Now, this was before Whitney married Bobby Brown. Cissy should have called Mr. Telephone Man to keep this bad boy away from her daughter. It is reported that Bobby Brown broke down sobbing on stage last night over Whitney’s sudden death. He is on tour with old members of New Edition. Perhaps these were tears of guilt and shame. He took the pop diva down this road. Sure, Whitney is also to blame. She had a life most people only dream of, but it wasn’t enough. I find her decisions incredibly selfish. Once you become a mother you don’t get to think about yourself first. Do you have any idea how many nights I would love to eliminate my stress by chugging margaritas? I can’t. I have three children who depend on me. Children I chose to have. Children I love more than myself. Whitney Houston obviously didn’t realize that is “The Greatest Love of All.” Otherwise, the pop diva would have taken one look at Bobbi Kristina and put down her crack pipe. Well, actually if she would have looked at Bobbi Kristina she would have realized her drug money should have been used to buy that poor girl some braces. You can drive a truck through her front teeth.


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