She cheated herself. Like you knew she would.
I can’t say I was surprised by the new of Amy Winehouse’s death. When I heard about her last concert, and saw the video, I thought to myself, “She has a year, maybe more, unless somebody does something.”
And, yet, at the same time I knew that there was nothing anybody could do. No one, that is, except Amy.
It seems like many people in Amy’s life who cared about her had also come to the realization that they couldn’t help her until she was ready to accept help. Again, Russell Brand put it better than anyone else.
When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone.
Frustratingly it’s not a call you can ever make it must be received. It is impossible to intervene.
Amy’s mother, seeing Amy for the last time just a day before her death, seemed to realize that her daughter’s death “only a matter of time.”
Apparently, a Black man can’t wear a hoodie in Congress either. At least he didn’t get shot.
Thank goodness! The John Edwards sex tape — the one he made with his mistress and campaign videographer — will suffer the same fate as Edwards’ political career. It will be destroyed. Let’s hope no copies were made, and that one less of these things will be making the rounds online.
Weird. I haven’t posted anything about Whitney Houston’s death. I have an unfinished post that may go up soon, but that’s it. Still, I just peeked at my stats and discovered this 2008 post about Whitney House and Amy Winehouse got over 2,000 visits this weekend.
I came away from CPAC a little disappointed yesterday, for two reasons:
On the up side, it looks like I may be partying with gay, Republican presidential candidate Fred Karger tonight.
OK. I plead guilty to this When I got my iPhone 4, I gave Parker my old iPhone 3G (with parental controls in place, phone service deactivated, everything restored to factory settings, history wiped clean, and internet access and the App Store on lockdown) to play games on, etc. But does that make me a “Scrooge”? Puh-leeze. An eight-year-old needs the latest iPhone?
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