Stoddly Fascinating

What do we do about Courtney Stodden?  I mean really, what do we DO about her? 

My attention trailer is hitched to her airbrushed pickup truck of a life and I’m not sure what to do about it, beyond watch these clips of her with Dr. Drew—who I think is about as effective a physician as Dr. Pepper at this point—over and over again, wondering where she gets her outfits, wondering where she gets the IDEAS for her outfits, wondering why she is at any given point somewhere between 25% and 95% Dana as Zhoul, wondering how she came to believe that she was meant to be a sex cipher instead of a trigonometry student, wondering what is the source material for this weird pleather/spandex patchwork of sensual performance, wondering how she came to be exposed to it before she could even legally drive a car. 

And then this single!  She sings, but she sings like this is 1998 and she is opening for a drag queen doing Jennifer Paige's "Crush" at a pride parade. There is nothing inherently wrong with that, but I just don't understand how.  How does a 17-year-old produce something that should accompany half-priced well drinks during happy hour, right after a megamix video that includes maybe, like, Deborah Cox and Tamia? There is a stranger in her house, and that stranger is way older than 17.

What do we DO about Courtney Stodden?