And here’s the shocker, everybody: Her sudden and unexpected death at the relatively young age of 48 totally had something to do with the mounds of coke she was snorting.
Radar reports:
Various prescription pill bottles were found in the living room and bedroom of the hotel suite but the bathroom was where the cocaine was found. “Located on the south portion of the counter was a small spoon with a white crystal substance in it and a rolled up piece of white paper, along with other miscellaneous items. Located in the top drawer in the north side of the counter were remnants of a white powdery substance and a portable mirror on a base. On the bottom of that base were more remnants of a white powdery substance.”
I’m a recovering alcoholic myself, so I’m not going to make fun of Whitney for her addiction. But to people who thought, like the singer’s aunt, that there might have been foul play involved, and to people, like Whitney’s mother, who insisted she was clean and sober when she died, I will say this: Duh.
Addicts don’t slip in the bath and drown. They don’t have heart attacks due to undiagnosed problems they were born with. They go out like John Belushi, Dee Dee Ramone, Chris Farley, Judy Garland, Mitch Hedberg, Jimi Hendrix, et al. That’s because drugs make you feel awesome, but once you get over annoying social mores like cocaine being “illegal” and “not something you need to bury your face in like some kind of Colombian drug lord before going to Clive Davis’ Grammy party” you often find that they can and will kill you.
I didn’t want to end this on a sad note, so here’s Jessica Alba’s ass walking into a building.
