Whitney Houston wanted to marry Michael Jackson
WANT to know how Whitney Houston really died? The National Enquirer has news. It knows how Whitney Houston “really died”. It says so on its front cover.
Whitney’s death has become a media sub-industry. The height of concern was emitted by one Danyl Johnson, an X Factor contestant who said on Facebook:
“I know that Whitney Houston & I didn’t see eye to eye, but another legend is lost.”
David Gest, a man without whom a celebrity death is incomplete, follows his words and TV documentary on Michael Jackson by telling Sun readers:
I FLEW out to Whitney’s home town of Newark on Friday to pay my respects at her memorial service the following day. My good friend of over 40 years, Whitney’s cousin Dionne Warwick, was Mistress of Ceremonies, presiding over the whole event. I have to say, no one could have done a better job…Afterwards she confided in me that she nearly broke down at one point. But she said: “I knew in my heart I had to hold it together.”…Whitney told me she could always confide in Pat [sister-in-law and manager Pat Houston] and nothing was ever leaked to the Press.
He then adds:
She really loved Michael and he adored her. Michael told me they once shared a passionate kiss, and she told me she was at one time very much in love with him. I think she really wanted to marry him but, although he had a crush on her, he was too shy. Later, he confessed to me he should have made every move. If they had got together, I believe Whitney would not have done drugs
In case you think Gest is all about Jackson, he adds:
But my favourite memories of Whitney were the times we laughed together. Like how she sang at one of my dinner parties at my New York apartment along with the Four Tops and Garth Brooks’ wife Trisha Yearwood.
Whitney Houston’s death now defines the lives of others. It’s not a ‘Where were you when…?” moment as so much as ‘What were you thinking when..?’ The OK! magazine “tribute” stretched credibility father than Katie Price’s nipple skin. The story you can read here told how man who does not work for OK! spotted her in the same room.
Back to the Enquirer and its scoop, which it saves for page 14 onwards in a 16-page special report.
“While she relaxed in the bath (that’s the Sun’s “death bath“), Whitney rans through some vocal exercises to warm up her voice.”
When a “staff member” found her lifeless body (photo), “her head [was] underwater, her knees bent, one arm dangling in the air.”
That’s not a death – it’s a performance.
One day the NE will open a Museum to the Death Bed. It will feature Elvis sat on the toilet, Whitney in a bath, Michael Jackson taking drugs in his sleep (eat yer heart out, Keith Richards), Princess Diana in a car, Marilyn Monroe being probed by aliens and many, many more.
For added authenticity, the NE attributes Houston’s relaxed pose not to Radox or other herbal bath oils but to drugs – “her brain too dulled from booze and drugs to keep her head from slipping under the water’s surface”.
It’s what the Enquirer calls “Whitney’s final binge” – a bath, a turkey sandwich and a song. Add a few Barcadi breezers and some chips and you’ve got the start of a typical British teenager’s night out. The only binging is being down by the tabloids feasting on Whitney’s remains…