Whitney Houston got where she is today by following one rule – take so many drugs that you end up looking like wheezy cadaver.

Wait, no, that’s not right. What we meant to say was that Whitney Houston got popular by following one rule – give the people what they want. And this worked, because in the 1990s people wanted bad films and identical-sounding songs bellowed by idiots. And Whitney Houston still follows this rule.

Because Whitney Houston is still giving the people what they want – anecdotes about the time Bobby Brown went mental, spat on her and started drawing evil eyes everywhere. Splendid.

Thanks to the success of her new album Deliberately Familiar-Sounding Songs Performed In A Slightly Disappointing Way – or whatever – Whitney Houston is back on top. Well, alright, not completely back on top – when she sings live Whitney Houston still tends to sound like a octogenarian tramp having an asthma attack inside a metal dustbin – but it’s enough for now.

Because over the last few years Whitney Houston has faced a number of seemingly insurmountable personal problems. She was addicted to crack. She had to sell everything she owned. She was married to an idiot. She made a reality TV show primarily focused on the dehydrated faecal impactions wedged inside her rectum. Osama bin Laden wanted to hump her quite badly. You could pick any single one of those things and it’d be enough to wreck your life. But not good old Whitney Houston.

You see, Whitney has managed to drag herself out of the mire. She’s been gifted a second chance, a clean sheet upon which she can rewrite her life. Looking back on the bad old times would be preposterously ill-advised – sure, it might help Whitney sell a few more records, but the effect on her personal well-being could be devastating.

So, long story short, Whitney Houston has decided to look back on the bad old times. With Oprah Winfrey. On television. In forensic details. That’s the bad news. The good news is that Whitney Houston’s bad old times sounded hilarious! Especially the part where Bobby Brown became overwhelmed by a terrifying drug-induced paranoia and started painting evil eyes all over the house. Reuters reports:

Houston said that during the couple’s narcotics-filled days, Brown would break glass objects in their home, and at one point he began painting eyes in their bedroom. “Evil eyes that were looking at every point in the room… I’m looking at it and going, ‘Lord, what’s really going on here?’ Because I was getting scared.” … Houston recalled a time when Brown spat on her when he had been drinking.

And Whitney Houston gave all of that up to return to music? That woman is crazy, plain and simple. It’s Bobby Brown who we feel most sorry for – there he is, tired after a hard day of breaking glass, obsessively painting thousands of disturbing eyeballs across every available surface and spitting at things, and all he wants from his wife is a nice cooked dinner and a backrub when he’s finished. But is she there to do all that for him? No, because she’s too busy telling the entire world what an unsettling crackpot he is. For shame, Whitney Houston. For shame.

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