Diabolical Tabloid Recreates Whitney's Death With Sick Photoshoot

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Though neither Jennifer Aniston's nor Kate Middleton's twins have ever materialized, Brad and Angelina are still together and Michael Douglas Deathwatch™ was a failure, tabloid coverage had not sunk as low as it possibly could. Until today. A new low: The National Enquirer printed a story called "Whitney's Final Minutes," in which they recreated Whitney Houston's death scene. The cover screams, "What REALLY happened," and presents a photograph of a woman unconscious on a bathroom floor, but if you look closely, you will see the words, "PHOTO RE-CREATION." They hired a woman to pose as Whitney Houston's dead body.

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The copy claims that Whitney Houston's brain was "too dulled from booze and drugs to keep her head from slipping under the water's surface." Alcohol and Xanax are blamed, and a source says that in the days before she died, Houston visited a two different doctors, who informed her that her voice would never be the same. Devastated, "she partied the weekend away." There are no photo credits on the images (or any pictures in the Enquirer), but the story has eight different writers attached to it, as well as a picture called "Her Last Meal," which appears to be Whitney Houston's (or someone's) room service tray. Last night, TMZ reported that the Beverly Hilton hotel room Whitney Houston died in has already been re-occupied by new guests. Could they be reporters from the Enquirer?

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Meanwhile, the Enquirer pulls a "told ya so," printing all of their awful Whitney-related covers in an effort to convince you that they're usually right and knew that she was in trouble all along. However: Keep in mind that this same publication has also claimed that Jennifer Aniston is pregnant, Brad and Angelina split, Oprah has three years to live and the Jolie-Pitt twins have Down Syndrome. This Whitney cover is pretty close to the Worst Deathsplotation Ever, but that honor goes to the July 2009 issue of Ok!, with the cover featuring Michael Jackson's dead body. Actual corpse trumps fake corpse.



I remember my doctor giving me Xanax about 10 years ago when I was completely stressed out from work, etc. I had no clue about the drug's effects and didn't even bother to ask. I would often wash it down with champagne. One night, my husband comes out to where I'm sitting in the hot tub and screams bloody murder. I had dozed off in the warm water and my head was almost submerged. That shit is no joke.

When the details came out about Whitney's death, I felt so horrible about the way she died and for the people that found her that way. These pictures are gross to exploit that. Of course they have to put it on the front cover, so people at the checkstands will buy it. Nice to see the Enquirer fully committed to keeping the economy afloat.

ETA: That was a probably a poor choice of words at the end. But it stays.