Will always love you...

Oh Whitney. Oh Whitney, Whitney, Whitney. Oh Whitney. Lord Girl. Oh Whitney. Girlfriend you're back in rehab? Did you ever leave? Oh Whitney...

You are ever so beautiful and fabulous because you smoke weed in line at the airport, snort cocaine on ABC and pistol whip security guards and you LOVE it. I know you do because we do too. That is to say, we love to love you doing those ghetto-ass triflings. (I do so love pistol whipping security guards though.)

Hell girl, we even thought you was DEAD! Ya'll remember when Whitney was supposed to be dead? Even her publicist had to verify she wasn't dead.

Darling, you need some help, not to mention a new publicist. I'm so happy you are back in rehab. You're simply making this too easy for me. OK. Here's what's happening now in the raucous, joyous life of Whitney Houston.

Well our onetime greatest love of all is, did I mention, back in rehab. Missus Bobby Brown has admitted to pill popping , reefer madness and powdering her nose. She's even smoked her coke IN her weed! Come on Whitney, the night is young. That's like dropping acid while shooting up between your toes. If you're gonna get high, take your time. Sample the buffet. No need for your rare roast beef to bleed into your strawberry shortcake.

Could you imagine? "Aw shit. Whitney is coming over. Ya'll hide the coke, the 'shrooms, and the speed til we're done smoking out. And remember, one at a time or she'll use it all at once." Although I must admit, having Ms. Houston in my living room would certainly make for a wild evening. I wonder who she'd most likely play in Clue? My guess would be Colonel Mustard.

Now in her defense, she still sticks by her assertion from the infamous "Primetime" interview with Diane Sawyer that she didn't smoke crack rock:

"I make too much money to smoke crack. Let's get that straight. Crack is whack."

Whatever Whitney. Your lips were so ashey and your eyes so wild, I panicked for poor Diane. I was certain you were two flicks of a Bic away from stabbing her for a crisp Benjamin. (I love it when I use my street slang. I sound soooo very urban.)

So now you're off to rehab. You were just in rehab a year ago sister, and there's no shame in that. Maybe in rehab you'll have a nice steady diet so you won't aggrivate that gastroenteritis that made you so sick back in February. Gastroenteritis? Yeah, right. Is that something you can catch through a crackpipe? Nope. Don't see gastroenteritis on the crackpipe website. Don't you love the internet?

Yes and I can't help but love Whitney Houston too. Please Whitney get better. Then please fall back off the wagon, again and again. We got to look up to someone.