Bobby Brown needs to head over to Australia immediately to pop a few doody bubbles, because some of Whitney Houston's fans are giving her the opposite of love!
At the first stop on Australian tour last night, a few audience members asked for their money back, because they said Whitney took too many breaks (doody bubble issues again?), was out of breath and sang off-key during most of her songs.
One lovely lady with tragic eyebrows in the clip above even said that Whitney "couldn't entertain a dead rat." That bitch needs to put down the brown eyebrow pencil and do her research, because Whitney entertained a dead rat or two back in her crack days. The dead rats would've given her a standing ovation and threw an 8-ball in her cup, but they couldn't because they were...like....dead. And even if that trick isn't going to do any Whitney research, she should still put the caca-colored brow pencil away. It's not doing her any favors.
And what's Whitney response to all the hate? Like you need to ask:
On X-Factor over the weekend, Whitney Houston ran into a few issues which has caused some hos to once again scream that crack has whacked up her brains. The first issue came when the strap of her dress popped off during her performance of that "Cokey Dollar Bill" song. There's a reasonable explanation for Whitney's wardrobe malfunction. Since Bobby Brown wasn't there to pop her doody bubble, it simply traveled all the way up her back and burst causing her dress strap to bust open! Blame it on the doody bubble.
The second issue came during the interview when Whitney got all confused and couldn't remember when her album was coming out in the UK.
Yes, Whitney's brain was off marinating in a bong somewhere, but it wasn't THAT bad. At least Whitney knew her dress was falling apart. All the crackheads I've come in contact with would've let that dress fall to the ground without flinching. Then they would've spent the rest of the performance asking the audience for 25 cents or a quarter. And during the interview, they would've dry humped the host, snatched his wallet and then hocked a loogie at him (example: all of Amy Wino's performances).
Okay, you win, she was still a mess.
Whitney Houston's big comeback concert for Good Morning America aired today, but was actually taped yesterday afternoon, because her voice doesn't do mornings. Even though she didn't have the morning mist fucking with her vocal cords, she still sounded a little cracky (punned on purpose).
Whitney apologized to the crowd of 5,000 fans and explained that she did Oprah earlier, "I've been talking for so long. ... I talked so much, my voice...I shouldn't be talking. I should be singing." THAT BITCH OPRAH! I'm sure Oprah is still mad at Whitney for turning down a little game of "Spin the Dildo" with Gayle back in the early 90s, so she's getting back at her! Oprah sabotaged her ass!
After watching Whitney's performance, it looks like her ass didn't do much singing at all. She let her back-up singers and the audience do the work. Smart thinking. Just hand the mic off. And yes, her voice sounded like Dionne Warwick after smoking 12 packs of Kools, but at least she didn't lip-synch. I'm trying to be positive.
Here's some pictures of Whitney and Bobb Kristina from yesterday's concert.
This is the cover for Whit Whit's big comeback album and I hope she stamped it with a giant HELL TO THE NO when she saw it. The Photoshop fuckery aside, they couldn't find a picture with a better expression than this mess? Whit's giving me a cross between "My doody bubble got stuck" face and "You got another ciggie?" face.
Although, I do approve of her Beverly Hills Teens earrings. They got that right.
Whitney Houston is in London tonight to prepare for her big fat comeback. Although, in that satin robe, Whitney looks more like she's preparing for a hot oil rubdown and an Epsom salt bath. Other than that, she looks good. Yes, mark today's date in your calendar as the day I gave a compliment while completely sober. Actually, not completely sober. I did just eat a week-old orange and I'm sure that shit fermented a bit.
Whitney Houston's got a new album and Bobby Brown's got a new baby! I think we're supposed to do the doody bubble boogie for the first one and cry for the second one. Let's cuddle up to Whitney first:
KISS MY ASS' first album of music in seven years will be released on September 1st. That's all the information that the studio released. They didn't give up a title or say how many tracks she sang while on the wrong stuff. JOKES! As far as I know, Whitney has ended her long affair with the pipe. However, I think she's still kissing on Ray-J's deformed dick, so I'm not sure which is worse. Ponder for a second.
Now on to Bobby Beeeeeeeeee! While leaving a night club in Las Vegas last night, Bobby told TMZ that he's a father for the fifth time! Bobby's manager/fuck time partner gave birth to their son, Cassius, a few days ago.
That's nice and everything, but when are Whit & Bobby B going to get to work on the project everybody has been waiting for: Season 2 of Being Bobby Brown! Doody bubbles have been waiting to be popped! Just look at this remix FourFour did of the show. I know Whit & Bobby B aren't knocking it anymore, but the world of reality TV is depending on them to reunite for more fuckery. They really don't make 'em like this anymore.
Maybe Whitney Houston couldn't find another man who would be willing to pop her doody bubble, because it's been claimed that she might be back with Bobby Brown. The Chicago-Sun Times says that they've been seen around Georgia acting all romantic-like while having dinner together. Apparently, Bobbi Kristina wants her parents to get back together. She probably misses the fucking comedy relief in the house.
One of Whitney's people said they are "good friends whose primary interest is the well-being of their daughter.''
Not this fuckery again. Okay, I will sign off on these two crazy crackies getting back together if they agree to do so in front of the cameras. Yes, they are every shade of fucked up, but "Being Bobby Brown" was some entertaining shit. I mean, who else could deliver gems (made of crack) like this one:
I've already written a review on what I thought of Daniel Radcliffe's peen's Broadway debut in "Equus" and now OMG BLOG has posted some actual footage of his magical wand casting spells on the audience. The person who got the goods using a cell phone was front row, so they saw a lot more than I did. I was like 7th row and couldn't see shit, because it was so damn dark! There should be four spotlights on that thing!
It looks like from the front row you could see his little weenus a lot clearer. I originally gave his skin stick mixed reviews, because I couldn't see it that well, but now I see that it gave a three-dimensional performance full of layers and colors. When DanRad gets all excited and shouty, his peen stands up and hops around with him. I'm sure his peen's little lips were even reciting the words with him. It's a true thespian through and through. However, DanRad's gigantic gonads are upstaging his wand. They need to know their place and shrivel down a little, so that the peen can get all the glory.
Whitney Houston needs to get back on the pipe, because obviously sobriety is fucking up her good judgement. I know she doesn't want to be Brandy's sister-in-law. Actually, Whitney looks like she's been bonging it in the ladies room. She's got the weed eyes.
Ray-J and Whitney better keep their cougar brawls private. The world does not need another Ray-J sex tape, especially if Whitney is his co-star. Hell to....you know the rest.
Here's the cougar and her cub at the Hopkins vs. Calzghe fight in Las Vegas Saturday night. I also threw in a picture of Tom Jones. That's who Whitney should be snuggling up to! Tom Jones gives good love.
It was a "Bodyguard" reunion last night for Whit Houston and Kevin Costner at Muhammad Ali's celebrity fight night. Don't they looked thrilled? Whit is thinking, "Hot hell! My bitties are looking fine. Hell to the yes yes!" Kevin is thinking, "Don't look at her bitties. Don't look at her bitties."
Here's some more pics with Whit and Dionne Warwick. I can smell the weed from here. Fabreeze your shit, Whit! You know these two were hot boxing in the car outside.