Thanks to reality TV, the last thing I remember learning about Whitney Houston is that when she’s constipated, then husband Bobby Brown would massage her Houston-hole until their marriage– oh, excuse me, I meant to say, compacted, hardened, constipated shit– broke up. Then she ran off to Africa and began looking for the lost tribe of Israel, to which she was convinced she belonged.

The lost tribe of Israel didn’t do their job, because after a 7 year absence from the recording studio (and her mind) Whitney is back, and preparing to embark on a public relations whirlwind to promote her new album, scheduled to be released September 1st.

If you’re a talk show host who’s interested in having Whitney on for a chat– and who wouldn’t be– there’s one caveat. Under no circumstances is anyone to ask her questions such as, “If you were a kind of crack, what kind of crack would you be?”

They only want to let her talk to journalists who’ll agree not to ask about her substance abuse,” an insider tells us.

A rep for Houston calls speculation on any PR plans “premature. Nothing has been set.” But we hear the edict  goes for the TV morning shows, which are all angling to get her to perform live. “The deal is, if they want her, then Matt Lauer, Diane Sawyer or whoever isn’t supposed to ask her tough questions,” says the source.

Ostensibly, this is because if you say the word “crack” it elicits a Pavlovian response in the singer whereby she will beat the crap out of Kelly Rippa and steal her wallet so she can score.

Whitney appeared at the 2nd Annual BET Honors Show this weekend looking fanfuckingtastic!

And I don’t mean to be insensitive, but wasn’t Queen Latifah announced as the new Jenny Craig spokesmodel, like, over a year ago?  She was all over my television telling me how she was going to eat pre-packaged crap and get to the ever-ambiguous “healthy weight”.  Uh, did she eat all the pre-packaged crap at once?  I only ask because Queen L 2009 looks exactly like Queen L 2008 and Queen L 2007.  Or am I wrong?  I don’t pay too much attention to her body; I spend a lot more time contemplating how much easier her life will be once she comes out of the closet.  And yes, I realize what it says about me that I put anyenergy towards thinking about who Queen Latifah sleeps with. 

Anyway, I’ve got plenty of love for the big girls, but I’m sorry.  Queen hawking weight loss goods is the equivalent of Michelle Duggar doing a Yaz commercial.

Whitney Houston has released an official statement denying Bobby Brown reconciliation rumors.  Uh…what?  I scanned the original story (the one where “unnamed sources” said Bobby and Whitney totally, definitely, possibly could be getting back together) a few days ago and then immediately drank a bottle of rubbing alcohol in an attempt to obliterate the memory.  Or vodka…it might have been vodka.  Either way, I am very relieved to hear it was a BS story.  I may be a couple of days late but Whitney’s denial is what I am most thankful for. 

I’m convinced that paps just make up these stories during slow news times, i.e. the holidays.  I’m thinking at Christmas, we should expect headlines such as “Amy Winehouse Opts For Water Without Scotch!”  Or “Posh Spice Eats!”  You know, something completely unbelievable.

What’s the verdict, kids? Does Whitney still have it?

This whole thing kind of falls flat for me, honestly. The song itself is boring, and Akon’s totally out-singing her. Whitney just doesn’t have the pipes like she used to. And I guess that can be blamed on another kind of pipes. Sadness.

(BTW, the video is just a montage, it’s not for this specific song.)

Bobby Brown is one big huge giant turd.

The huge loser has written a tell-all about his relationship with Whitney Houston. In it, he basically blames Whitney for his drug problem.

“I never used cocaine until after I met Whitney. Before then, I had experimented with other drugs, but marijuana was my drug of choice,” he says. “At one point in my life, I used drugs uncontrollably. I was using everything I could get my hands on, from cocaine to heroin, weed and cooked cocaine.”

Heh. “Cooked cocaine.” Uh, dude, in most circles we call that “crack.” I have known many drug addicts and recovering drug addicts in my life, and I have never in my life heard any of them say that they smoked “cooked cocaine.” That’s fucking hilarious.

Brown claims his marriage “was doomed from the very beginning. Within the first year we separated, with several more to follow. I think we got married for all the wrong reasons. Now, I realize Whitney had a different agenda than I did when we got married . . . I believe her agenda was to clean up her image, while mine was to be loved and have children.”

And in response to allegations that he cheated on Whitney with Karrine “Superhead” Steffans: “Yes, I’ve slept with her. Yes, I’ve spent several nights at her house. But she was only good for what her nickname stood for.”

Oh my God!

What a fucking asshole. Like, dude, okay, you’re writing a book to talk shit about the ex-wife you hate. But do you really have to call some random chick you repeatedly spent the night with a valueless piece of trash? Soooo classy, buddy.

Whitney’s rep released the following statement in response:

“Miss Houston is sad that Bobby feels he need to say such things but she choses to take the high road and will not speak badly about the father of her child even if it’s to set the record straight.”

Geez, Bobby, I hope you make a shitload of money on this book. Because it cost you what little dignity you had left.

No, that’s overly mean spirited even for a child of spite. But some of Houston’s stuff is going up for sale and you can be the proud owner if you hustle down to New Jersey post haste.

You can see the full list of stuff for sale here but the highlights include:

Dolce & Gabban Bustiers
Atelier Versace Beaded Cat Suit
Some of Bobby’s Awards
Northfield 36″ Vertical Band Saw

No word as to whether the band saw was used by Whitney herself and the items are only going up for auction because no one paid the storage bill. The lesson here: Pay all bills, and then only afterwards do enough drugs to kill a horse.