Bobbi Kristina Brown passed away at twenty-two after six months in a coma, surrounded by her close friends and family, more commonly known as her killers. Normally you might blame a junkie for their their own damn bath tub drowning, but when an infant is handed a crack pipe in the place of a pacifier by her fucked up parents, you have to give a little nod to the role of ill-fate in her demise. Nobody around her will ever be punished save for having to live their lives as fucked up, selfish shifty assholes, which isn’t as bad as it sounds when self-awareness is absent. Maybe ghosts are real and Bobbi Kristina will haunt the shit out of the fuckers in her family who now vulture up to her inheritance in cash and real property. Though most likely we’ll have to wait until they all kill themselves through negligence and stupidity. The media will call it a family curse, but deep down, we’ll all know it was just relentless assholery. Now would be a good time for Amazing Grace and a drone strike.
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