Further evidence of that unsettling notion that celebrity deaths always come in threes: the completely out-of-the-blue demise of actress Brittany Murphy yesterday at the age of 32. I wasn’t exactly a fan — I’ve only seen one of her movies that I can recall, and my favorite role of hers was the voice of Hank Hill’s dimwitted-but-sweet trailer-trash niece on the animated TV series King of the Hill — but I always found her likable enough, and pretty in a normal, suburban kind of way. I’ve heard some accounts that she could be difficult to work with, which perhaps explains why she hasn’t had many film roles recently after being touted as the Next Big Thing only a few years ago, but I never got that impression from her in the occasional interviews I saw. Certainly she didn’t come across as one of the no-class, arrogant, boozy-floozy types that comprise Young Hollywood these days.

So far, it appears that her death was natural, if freakishly sudden. The LA Times obit is here, for any who may be interested.