Posted by Denise W. on March 10, 2010
Crunkland! I’m baaaack. It’s ya girl Denise Wheatley, crawling out from undaneef my rock to do what I do best: Present you with a brutiful bouquet of felonious fuckery. You ready? Let’s get it.
Blue Springs, Missouri. Home of American Idol’s David Cook, a couple of NBA players not worth mentioning, a couple of NFL players not worth mentioning, and one dastardly bastard by the name of Marlon Brando Gill. Who dis you ask? Please allow me to elaborate.
Marlon Brando Gill (no kin to the stoopid frooty R&B swooner Johnny) is an abrusive prick whose mother had the audacity to name him after the late great Godfather himself, the real Marlon Brando. Gill is the type of man who likes to smack his bitch up (The Prodigy’s words, not mine). But one day he took a domestic dispute with his 24-year old girlfriend, Melinda Abell, to a hoe…nuthuh…levuh. What he did to this woman is hard to believe. But buhlee me, *sings* this here is on some truuufful shit.
It was a Friday morning. 4:52am to be exact. Gill and Abell were in the midst of a heated argument. Gill was accusing her of being unfaithful. Abell was denying it. Gill didn’t believe her. Abell continued to defend herself. In the middle of their rant, her cell phone rang. She couldn’t have picked a worser time to have her ringer aaalluh way tuuurnt up. Gill, assuming it was one of her jumpoffs calling, insisted that she hand over the phone. Abell refrused. A struggle ensued. Gill was determined to get that damn phone, by any means necessary. But Abell wasn’t havin it. Cuz all hu life she had tuh fight. And here, my friends, is where the shit went left.
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