Dear Amy Winehouse,
I've been reading about your problems with a morbid interest. Don't get me wrong, I really like your music. In an age where entertainers are more for looks than actual talent, your singing is like a breath of fresh air.
But really...manic depressive that doesn't take meds? An open affinity for illicit drugs and alcohol? Horse tranquilizers? Knock down fights with the hubby? Your in-laws are even commenting that if you and your husband are both alive within a year, they will consider themselves lucky.
As a nurse, I know that vomiting blood is not a good thing, and left untreated, can result in what we call "a negative patient outcome".
So, when you sing "They tried to make me go to rehab and I said no...no...no"...I BELIEVE IT!!
Why, oh why, didn't I put you on my Celebrity Death List this year?
So, if you could just hang on until 2008 before you decide to self-destruct, that would be GREAT! Mmm 'kay?