Morbid - Episode 361: Listener Tales 50

Episode Date: September 5, 2022

Listener tales 50!!! OMG, you guys were lighting up our souls with the intro to these tales. Sometimes you just need a Monday pick me up and this was it. You delivered ghostly audio, capri sun mixed with french kissing and a cameo from a dad of one of our listeners!!! If you have a listener tale please send it into [e-mail] with Listener Tale somewhere in the subject line!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hey, Prime members, you can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon music. Download the app today. You're listening to a morbid network podcast. Whether you're running errands on your daily commute, or even at home, you can enjoy all your audio entertainment in one app, the Audible app. As an Audible member, you can choose one title a month to keep from the entire catalog. This includes the latest bestsellers and new releases. Plus get full access to a growing selection of included audiobooks, audible originals,

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That's W-O-N-D-E-R-Y-P-O-D. Audible.com slash wonderypod or text wonderypod to 500-500 to try audible for free for 30 days. Angie's list is now Angie, and we've heard a lot of theories about why. I thought it was an eco-move. For your worst, guess paper. It was so you could say it faster. No way. It's to be more iconic.

Must be a tech thing. But those aren't quite right. It's because now you can compare up front prices, book a service instantly, and even get your project handled from start to finish. Sounds easy. It is. And it makes us so much more than just a list. Get started at Angie.com.

That's ANGI, or download the app today. Hey, weirdos, I'm Ash, and I'm Alaina. And this is squeaky. My chair is always squeaky. And I never squeaky. I fucking hate these chairs. Wow. Yeah. I mean, they're beautiful. Like they, let me backtrack. They're gorge chairs, but like, they're squeaky. Yeah. Like, come on. Yeah. It's not great.

It's not great. It's not great. But you know what? You know what is great? Listener tales. Listener tales. Let's talk to you about you for you from you and all about you. Exactly.

And you might be wondering, wait a second, fellas. It's Monday. It's Monday. You don't do listener tales on Monday. You do Monday. You don't do listen or tails on Monday. You do them on Freedia. That is on Western Brena, the teenage witch reference because I can make one for anything. That's such a talent. That was Salem Saber Hagen who said that.

Freedia. Freedia. But it's not Freedia today. It is Monday. It is Monday. So we really wanted you to have Jordan's just voice in your ears on Friday. We just couldn't wait.

Couldn't wait to give a knee. And it'd penetrate your ear. Wow. Someone said that Jordan sounded like hipster, Dumbledore. And I've never heard a better description in my life. I love that. You get rid of the facial hair, and he essentially is. Yeah, there you go.

You know what my favorite thing about? I have like so many favorite things about Jordan, but I love that. You get rid of the facial hair and he essentially is. Yeah, there you go. You know what my favorite thing about, well, I have like so many favorite things about Jordan, but I love Jordan here. How he says, a boot. I love it so much. It's the Canadian up and all. A boot. That's what it is.

So we like you Jordan. Glad you guys got it a little ahead of time. And you'll be back soon. Yeah, so, and we decided to give you a listen or tale on Monday just to, because we really wanted to do one. Yeah. Fun. And you like them.

And we didn't pull one out last week. So we were like, you know what? There we go. Whoop there it is. And when we opened up the folder and we saw these listener tail, the names of them, we were like, yeah, we said that's the move. That is the move. So we're going to do that today.

We hope that you're cool with that. Hope so. Hope so, because it's happening. So we are. But this one begins really strong. I would say I haven't read this, but just by virtue of its title, it's starting off real strong.

That's how I feel. So this one is entitled Spooky Audio Attached Edition. What? Which always grabs my attention. I love spooky audio. Always. Spooky audio. This is spooky audio. Hold on, I got to, I know what you're doing. I got to put it into a word doc because I don't have my glasses because I never have my glasses. And that's just who I am as a person.

Where are you, Glyas? Where are my glasses that downstairs where they shouldn't be? I was telling you, this morning I think, eye doctors, hi. Can you develop a stigmatism over time? Because my eye doctor always says that I don't have it, but lately I can't look at my bright screen without wanting to cry because I can't focus. So right in, let us know.

Let us know. We're gonna be like 900 emails in here that are like ash. You have a stigmatism. There you go. I appreciate it. I do too. All right, so this one says,

hi guys, I've been listening to morbid for about a year now or so and I thought it was finally time I submitted my own listener tale. Before I begin, I just wanted to say thank you guys for all that you do. I know it is an easy researching and talking about this stuff almost daily, but it doesn't go unappreciated.

Oh, thank you. That's really nice. Thank you. We all love your content and keep up the good work. We all keep up the good work. Yeah, that was really nice. You're so good. Anyways, here's some background for you, not from you.

It's for you. It's for you, not from you. All of you. I'm from Indiana. I know. The state of corn. It's for you. For you, all of you. For you. I'm from Indiana. I know. The state of corn. It's actually the state of corn.

Hash has been singing. I don't know if you guys. The world has been singing this. If you are on TikTok or you have watched the news where they do those cute little wholesome segments every once in a while, they've that little boy holding the corn that they love the nubs. And somebody made like an auto-tuned song out of it. Do you know what the title of the corn with nubs. And somebody made like an auto tuned song out of it. Do you know what that title of that song is on TikTok?

No. I don't know what word for word, but it's like the corn song that unites the world. That's amazing. And it is. And 100% I agree. My friend just texted me and she was like, that song is the best thing to ever happen to me.

It truly is. Same. Ash has been singing it for days. So as soon as I just saw the state of corn, I was like, wow, I meant to be. I would sing it right now, but I think copyright infringement. Probably. So it's the state of cone, the potholes.

And as the state motto says, the crossroads of America, people always passing through and never staying. But this is a place I was born and raised in the smell of the cow farms and seeing the cone fields has become like homes to me. However, another little known fact, Indiana, and more specifically my hometown, has a shit ton of limestone, which is an amazing conductor of energy. Which you know means ghosts. It means ghosts the band. It's just one ghost, which means ghosts. Growing up that five-letter

word was always so common to me. I was raised on ghosts, hunters, ghosts, adventures. Oh, me too, my friends. Nothing is better. I said this to John the other day, nothing is better than like before you had any responsibilities in life. Period. Period. And then you could just sit down and just engage in hours of ghost-tunting marathons on TV, just barely moving and just like getting food. Like on weekends, we would just like marinate in front of the television, watching ghost hunters.

Who are you kidding? Ghost adventures. Weekdays, when I was like in the middle of dropping out the television, watching ghost hunters. Who are you kidding? Ghost adventures. Weekdays, when I was like in the middle of dropping out of college, I used to just roll up to a Lena's apartment. I'd say don't tell mom that I'm here. Pre-Kids. And then we would just turn on some fucking TV.

Yep, that's true. That was- I just love watching a ghost hunter. Such a beautiful time in life. I really was. I wish I had appreciated it more back then. But you know what? Maybe we'll be able to go ghost hunting soon.

Oh my god, I'll ship myself. Maybe it'll happen. Maybe... Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe we'll go sun with some people. I don't know. Some famous ghost hunting. Ooh!

It's been too much! She's like, this is Crocker. I didn't She's like, my Mrs. Crocker. I did really like that, or Mr. Crocker. I got embarrassed. I was raised on ghost hunters, ghost adventures, traveling to historic haunted locations, and even with a mother who always had just had a sense of knowing when something wasn't quite right. No, literally.

I have so many ghost stories that involve her knowing freaky shit that turned out to be factual, but that's a story for a different time. Also, our mom's the same. Yes. Anyway, this story begins on a summer evening back in 2017. My mom and I were about two hours down south visiting my grandparents when we decided that it was late and we needed to go home. So we start driving back home and then bam! We're in standstill traffic for two hours on i69. It was horrible. I had to pee, I was hangry, and worst of all, it was getting really, really late. Finally, traffic starts moving again and we're headed home. We finally get off the interstate and start making the drive through old country roads to get back

to our old country house. We're just jamming along, trying not to be annoyed when suddenly my arm is absolutely filled with goosebumps. I look to my right and notice we're passing an old cemetery. And suddenly I cannot breathe. The hair on my neck stands up, I have tears in my eyes, and I turn to my mom, and I say, mom, she quickly cuts me off and says, I know, don't address it and don't look back, it'll be fine.

Oh, okay. Oh, the new mom has said, don't call ghost busters, I am ghost busters. I suddenly am filled with the horrible realization that my mom feels it too. Someone or something is in the back seat of our car. Oh, I didn't pick up a bunch. Oh, we continue driving,

but both of us have tears in our eyes and can't quote and quote see. I put in quotes because it's more like a mental image. A larger, oh, they can see, excuse me, I just messed that whole feeling up. Oh, I didn't expect you to say can. I said, I thought I said can't. Maybe I said it right and I fucked this up twice.

I don't know. Either way, it says, you're doing amazing, Steve. Thank you so much. We continue driving, but both of us have tears in our eyes and can see, quote-unquote, I put in quotes because it's more like a mental image, a larger man in our back seat with overalls, and he's absolutely angry. Ooh, were you driving down the bridge water triangle? That was gonna say, was he a redhead? We try and put on the radio to distract ourselves. I wanted something funny, like never gonna give you up

or something because nothing bad can happen when you're listening to that type of music, right? Too bad the corn sauce. I don't know, I feel like it's almost like, happens more to that like, John T. T. You know what I know. But my mom must have thought the situation was more dire

because she put on the Christian radio station. Oh shit. Because we needed Jesus and we needed to fast. At this point, my mom's speeding to make it back to our house so we can get out of the car and away from that thing. After what seems like forever, we pull into the driveway and into the garage. My mom turns the car off and I finally breathe

and was about to make a mad dash inside. However, something stopped me. I looked down at my phone and noticed it started randomly recording by itself. It somehow turned itself on, went on a text message, and was recording. When I finally noticed it, though, it stopped and sent to someone. It was one of those voice messages and chats. I was like, huh, that's weird. But not weird enough for me to stay and investigate, so I made a mad dash into the house and ran upstairs.

Finally, with the comfort of my own home around me, I decided it was the perfect time to listen to that audio message. Because you know, nothing like standing in a dark hallway in your creepy old farmhouse, so listen to a scary message. That randomly sent on your phone without your consent. Can I ask you a quick question just to interrupt here? I feel like I can smell this house. Like it smells like cozy home. Oh yeah. I love a farmhouse. It's a cozy home. I feel it. So I could play and immediately turn white. Oh. At the very beginning of the clip, you can hear a man's voice say something. No thank you. I thought it said I'm not on my own or I'm in your room. Oh. I'm not sure. Honestly, both of those kind of suck. I'm going to be on it.

I was going to say I want the first one, but then he's like, I'm not on my own. I got more of me around here. There's more ghosties coming. Yeah, I don't like that. So those both suck. I don't know which one I would choose. I choose my own adventure. Yeah, maybe it wouldn't have been unusual if it wasn't for the fact that it was just me and my mother, who you can hear talking in the clip, so it's not us. And the car was off, and there was no man in sight. So of course I did the most logical thing. I ran down crying to my mom to listen to the message. She tried to shrug it off and say it was nothing and it just got a bed.

Hell no. I slept on the couch three nights after that. Around 3 a.m., my mom said she woke up suddenly and felt an immense weight off her shoulders. That man finally left. Ooh. It's been years now, but this is still one of the most compelling evidences I have. After further review, I also hear almost growling

at the end of the audio message as well. This would make sense if the man said I'm not alone. I don't know what that thing was or why it chose us that day, but regardless, it was freaking scary. I also talked about it with my mom later and she confirmed she also saw the man in overalls too. Freaky shit. I'll attach to the audio message for you guys to listen to.

Tell me what you think. Thanks for listening and if you wanna hear more stories, let me know. I have tons. Please send them. I'm letting you know right now, right now. Thanks again and remember to keep it weird, but not so weird that you decide to listen

to a spooky message by yourself and your creepy ass farmhouse. I added ass, okay, thanks. Bye. Also, okay, or also, I have a shit ton of scary stories about Plymouth, Massachusetts. Thanks again. Hannah, please send those Hannah.

Send them stories. The land of all your scary stories hence them I just said had them I'm it's a day no I'm not I'm not are you among us I'm not we're gonna play the audio message can we ready because do you want me to it's necessary pump her up yeah pump her up hold on let me pump out this of volume dance dance the jams pump it up pump it up. I need to hear it one more time because I think I hear I'm and almost just sounds like he says run I run I hold on I need to hear it off air for a second. I feel like I'm starting to hear I'm waiting around and I hear I like a So maybe he's like, turn up the gospel. I like a loud, like a loud.

He said, hallelujah. That was a compelling, oh, something. That was real compelling, Hannah. It was something. And I appreciate you sharing it with us. And also, I love that your mom just knows this shit. She's just like, it's such a, what is it with moms?

You know? I do not know. What is it? Like I myself am a mom and I don't know, will I develop this later in life? I sure hope so. You're spooky. I, lately, I'm just like, I am gonna be

somebody's spooky mom someday. Yeah, it's so fun. I'm stoked on that. I mean, kids are in our like three to five year plans, so I'm pretty excited to be a really excited. Hippy ass, weird ass mom. Yeah, I was straight up spooky mom. I mean, that literally goes without saying.

In fact, I saw, I actually, we took the kids to Castle Island in the city. And we just like took a walk around. And I saw a listener there who said, hello, and she was so sweet. And I didn't get her name. And I'm sorry for that. You were wonderful.

You great. And you looked great. You were role-blading and like a full outfit. And I meant to tell you like you look fucking phenomenal. So if that was you, you looked great. And good for you. You role-blading, like that's like honor. But I realized how like my family looks hilarious. If that was you, you looked great. And good for you. And good for you. Roller bleed. Like that's like honor.

But I realized how like my family looks hilarious. Like, because like the kids are just like these cutie petuties just dressed as like, I just let them dress however they want. So they are always like mismatched. Like they look hilarious. And like, John was like, in that day, he was full blown dad mode with like the diaper bag on his back

and like ready to go. And then I am always wearing all black. And you're like like bright red lipstick. Like I am always like the ghoul of the bunch. And you have like your super pale and you have like super bright red hair. I stand out from the group of us so much. And I'm like, John tell you the other day

that you looked like a vampire. Yeah, he said you the other day that you looked like a vampire. Yeah, he said, he just said, you always look like a vampire. He said it like in a movie. Yeah, he was saying it in a compliment. But did I appreciate it? I just look, I don't even know. You look great.

My brand lately is just like lump. You look a big lump with an obstacle. Get out of here. You're calm. I'm calm. That's my look. All right, moving on. You're a beautiful thing. You're a big lump with an obstacle. Get at it. You're calm. I'm calm. That's my look. All right, moving on.

You're a beautiful thing. You're a beautiful thing. And so is this listener tale. It's called Listen to Your Tales. I had La Zagna. I just said that. That way it's actually La Zagna. And I like La Zagna better.

La Zagna. You had La Zagna with a serial killer. And then it says true crime. True crime. I'm like like hell yeah The best time to prepare for growth is before the opportunity arrives especially for online businesses Ship station sets you up for growth by directly integrating with every shopping cart and storefront So your products are easier, easier to manage, and easier to get into the happy hands of your happy customers. Do not wait until you're drowning in orders to find the right shipping solution.

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ship more and grow more with Shipstation. Go to shipstation.com today and sign up with promo code morbid for a free 16-day trial. Start today and get set up before the biggest shipping season of the year. That's two months free. Visit shipstation.com, click the microphone at the top and type in code morbid. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Hi, Elena and Ash, I'll keep this note short because the story's kind of long.

I have attached a double space putt of a four-year convenience that's literally so hot, thank you. Just want to let you know that I love the show and I've been dying to share this story with you. You may use my name, Julie, I write, like I talk, so expect lots of parentheticals and all caps moments for emphasis. I love that, I write that too. I write that way too. She said it's an ADHD thing, I definitely is, because I love an all caps moment. Also, I'm half Sicilian, so while you read this, imagine all kinds of expressive hand gestures flying around. I did them.

Don't read, oh, I will not read that a lot. I don't read it. All, I'm really happy for you guys, just know that, okay? I love that. All right, so it starts off and it says, Hey, wonderful, weirdo women. My mom was a single parent with four kids. Shout out to your mom.

Yeah, seriously. You are the oldest. In 1978, she was working as a bartender in Schiller Park. That's Illinois, right? Yeah, it is. Illinois. Just outside of the Chicago Health me. You got it.

Just outside Chicago City limits. I was 13 and mom worked nights. So I was usually home in charge of my younger siblings. This wasn't at all weird in 1978. Mom was twice divorced already, while my real father was out of the picture, more on that later. My stepfather was still around quite a bit, what with visitation and all that. One night, a guy came into a bar where mom worked and struck up a conversation with her. He seemed somewhat familiar to her, and as the night wore on, they tried to figure out

where they knew each other from. When the guy said his last name was Gacy, mom suddenly remembered how she knew him. He was a year or two older than she was, but they had gone to the same elementary school. And in fact, mom had been one of the bridesmaids in his younger sister's wedding in the late 60s. What a claim. That is insane. Eventually the bar closed and they parted.

But he returned to the bar several times in the intervening weeks and they got along pretty well. He even invited her to attend a party at the home of one of his friends. And there she met a few other people she'd known from high school. While my mom would say she and John were just friends, even at the tender age of 13, I could put two and two together, and knew my mom was semi-sortidating him.

Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. And was working her way up to bringing him home to meet the fam. She spoke of him fairly frequently, and casually repeated jokes and stories that he'd told her. So we were all getting used to the idea of him, you know?

And soon, an opportunity arose. Every year, Mom hosted what she called Orphan's Thanksgiving. A week or two after Thanksgiving, she'd host a big party for friends who either had no local family who preferred not to spend holidays with their families or just wanted to hang out for a meal and some drinks. She would make lasagna and a bunch of salads and sides,

and everybody who was invited would contribute like potluck style. That sounds fucking awesome. I know, I love that. She'd be spending time, she'd been spending time with John for several weeks, so of course invited him to come. He replied that it had been a long time since he had had an authentic home cooked Italian meal

and that he would love to come. I bet he fucking would. In 1978, that party was held at our home on the northwest side of Chicago on December 9th. There were a lot of people there that night, but I did talk to John for a while. Even at 13, I was obnoxiously outgoing and talked easily with the dogs.

This is wild. He told me about being a clown and showed me a wallet photo of himself shaking hands with Rosalind Carter. I'm screaming. And as mentioned, I was pretty, I was a pretty perceptive kid, and new mom was semi-sorted dating this guy.

So I was kind of scoping him out. He didn't give me any particularly bad feelings, but I thought him, but I thought him kind of a blowhard braggie kind of person. You nailed it. Yeah, he seems that way. Yeah. I described him later to friends as a guy

who had the personality of a used car salesman. N nailed it. No offense to people who sell used cars, but there's a stereotype of a pushy never take no for an answer kind of guy for a reason. There you go. It's the truth, man. Mom's parties were well known for being big, noisy, everyone's welcome baches. So there were a ton of people there from work friends of moms to her regulars from the bar to family and close friends. My stepdad was even there, as this was one of the friendlier periods in him and my mom's ex-marriage. Party ended, everybody went home, time moved on, blah blah blah. Then, on December 22nd, mom called home as soon as she got to work. In 1978, there were no cell phones. She said,

if Daddy calls and asks about John Gacy, tell him that John came to the party with florists. I think. Sure. I happily agreed to lie for my mom, but asked her why. She told me John had been arrested the night before, but didn't say why, and said she had to get back to work. I figured like a lot of traffic violations

or something equally minor. Of course. Imagine my surprise. I can't imagine your surprise. figured like a lot of traffic violations or something equally minor. Of course. Imagine my surprise. I can't imagine your surprise. I turned on the news and every channel, okay, there were only three back then, but still, we're showing news coverage

of a small bungalow on Chicago's far north side with plastic sheets covering things, people standing in the rain and structure after structure of sheet covered bodies being carried out. I cannot even imagine this. Can you imagine being the mom and not dating him at this specific time while you have a child and not even multiple children?

And he was three of them. He was so good at matting and charming. Mm-hmm. If you read the Cliff Line Decker book, The Man Who Killed Boys, you'll find a mention of Florey's Franson, a psychic who claimed to have read Gacy's tarot cards and was so frightened by the reading she just made up some random feel good stuff and left the party quickly.

Oh, that's terrifying. Then had to pull over at the side of the road and vomit because she was so terrified by him. Oh, I want to read that. Wow. There's the Florey, that's the Floreys who told... Sorry, that's the florese who mom told me to tell dad had been Gacy's date that night. And the terror reading was done in my living room. Wow.

Florese did leave the party fairly early, but we never heard the so terrified I pulled over an involved in story until after Line Deckers book was published. Wow. For me, the worst part of this whole thing happened years later when I looked at a timeline of Gacy's murders and realized that his last known victim, Robert Pist, was abducted two days after Gacy had been at our house for dinner.

Oh my God. Can you imagine, you're just like sitting there shooting the shit with this guy about being a clown and you're like, oh, he's so braggadocious. Like a whole day, he's happy. And then this happens. And his last known victim. Yeah, that's so new.

And he was very active at this point. So scary. Wow. Weirdly, after Gacy's arrest and trial conviction, and after we'd moved out to the suburbs, my mom hired a live-in housekeeper, Sash Baby Center. Her name was Gloria Rode. Turns out she was the estranged wife of Gacy's best friend Ron Rody, and she'd left her husband

because she thought it was disloyal of him to have testified against Gacy on his trial. My God. On the record right now, anybody that is my best friend, and I know about like eventually that you've killed somebody, I'll testify against you. Yeah, I'm gonna get you. I'm gonna get you. I'm gonna get you. Turns out Gloria get you. I'm gonna get you.

Turns out Gloria didn't turn out to be too cool herself and she got fired. She was, she was slacking a little bit. And going back way up there to my first paragraph, I mentioned my real father. Well, being the true crime fan I am, after the Golden State Killer was identified through familial DNA, I sent in my own DNA

to one of the DNA tracking companies, 23 and me if you wanna say which. Sure. Heck yes, I love that company. And they did that in the whole, I know we both did, 23. Yeah, we did. They didn't tell me I was Italian,

so I'm kinda pissed off. They told me I was 1.4%. Yeah. Oh, the brac. I think you're a little bracadocious over that I am. I'm kidding. I was gonna say like live in your Italian. Yeah, I was gonna say it's like the Viking in me

or something, I don't know. Well, I have that in me. You do. Yeah, we have Viking blood. Anyways, they sent in their DNA in the hopes of being the key to solving some long ago terrible crime. Instead, I found out that at the age of 56

that my real German and Swedish father is not related to me at all. And my actual real father is a Korean man I have never heard of. Which explains all the anti-Asian abuse I took from classmates as a kid. Oh, that's terrible. As I sat there saying, I'm not Asian, I'm Italian and German. Oh my goodness. I'm sorry that you went through that.

Yeah, that's awful. People, I was going to say kids are the worst, but really just people are the worst. Also, my mom was not Italian. She was Sicilian in Turkish. Turns out her mother changed her surname and claimed a different ethnic background because in the 1920s, when she was growing up, Sicilians were not considered quote-unquote white people while Italians were. Wow. History is a wild thing. I tracked down my biological father eventually, and he wants, oh, I'm so sorry. He wants nothing whatsoever to do with me, and has instructed the rest of his family not to talk to me either. That's a bunch of bullshit. Fuck that guy.

Yeah. I expressed my disappointment to my own grown daughter. I guess my real father's kind of an asshole. Without skipping a beat, my daughter replied, your mother was divorced three times and dated a serial killer. Asshole is totally on brand forever. She's like listening to grandma.

Grandma was wild. It's awesome. I love your daughter. Which means you must be a badass mom to embrace that. That's amazing. That's iconic. That's awesome.

In conclusion, stay weird, but not so weird that you date serial killers and lie to your children about what race they are. Cheers, Julie. Julie. My goodness, Julie. What a time. I'm so sorry that you went through that you did serial killers and let your children about what race they are. Cheers, Julie. Julie! My goodness, Julie. What a time.

I'm so sorry that you went through that, though, with your father, like, to be, to find that out is so, like, to be gobsmacked by that information. Yeah, that's just a lot. Just to be treated like that by somebody that you share blood with is horrible. Oh, that's wild.

But holy shit. Damn, your daughter's really fine, right? And you're really fucking great. Yeah, and you're great. You deserve to have everything you ever want in life, Julie. You do, you really do. Sometimes you don't even need a dad. You don't.

I love mine, but like, you don't always need them. You're gonna say, I love mine, but like, they're not, oh wait, you don't need anybody, but people who really love you. Yeah. And want the best for you. And that's us. You know what I mean?

We're lovebombing you, Julie. That's us. We're lovebombing you because we love you. Yeah. And want the best for you. And that's us. You know what I mean? We're love bombing you, Julie. That's us. We're love bombing you because we love you. All right, my next one. We're love bombing you because we love you. We have no ulterior motive for that, I promise. We just love you. Love.

And we appreciate your tail. Yeah. Now, my next tail is eating a potential ax murder out of a moving vehicle. Ooh, so like that's a problem because the eat ones are usually for me. All right, you don't get it, though. This one's mine. Pop-up set, so like that's a problem because the eat ones are usually for me. I don't know, you don't get it though. This one's mine.

Pop-up set, so. I'm upset. I'm upset. This one says, hi Deb Deb, Ashina. Hello. Of course I adore you beautiful badasses and Deb Deb. Yay. I love you, love Deb Deb.

You freaking rock for picking out some awesome listener tails. So I love that. If mine makes the cut, I have attached it in a putt-a-putt-a-fah double spaced in size 13 font. Oh, it took me about eight minutes to read out loud just so you know, wow, you are a real one. You are organized. You're amazing.

Thanks for doing listener tails and letting us be such an integral part of the podcast. Thank you for being a part of the podcast. PS, please don't say my name in the podcast if you read it. I didn't include it in the tail, but just to be safe, psycho ex and small town shit, you'll understand if you read it. I didn't include it in the tale, but just to be safe, PsychoX and Small Town Shit, you'll understand if you read it. I got you.

Oh, we go to read it. Anonymous. Let's bring this up. Hi, weirdos. I just finished a listener tells episode and said to myself, dammit, it's about time I write mine. I was saying that. I was saying that too.

I've been listening to your podcast for so long, turned by other two crime loving friends onto it, and spent a slightly concerning amount of my free time making graphics of true crime sayings, like, sorry, my Uber is here just because. So you're the best. You're all so needless to say, I'm a weirdo as well, and somehow still didn't lock my goddamn doors

and have this listener tell to tell. I'm glad you're telling me it. So here is my, I love you too so much sentence along with my, I'm not sorry about the lengths And I know you won't cut a single word disclaimer and let's go girls. Yes shed said like Shania Twain Let's go girls. There it is a few years back. I moved out to a tiny town in Oregon. Good job. Thank you Did you hear that organ organ organ? Still the organ trail a small tiny town in Oregon, I knew nobody.

I was in my 20s. It was my first time living on my own. I freaking loved it. When I say this was a small town, I mean it. There were plenty of the classic small town issues, like gossip, trying to find somebody to flirt with at the bar that you don't already know, and the police. To give you context on what the police force was like here,

I had to call the non-emergency number and 9-1-1, and then physically go sit in city hall for over an hour to get just one decent officer to listen to death threats. On my voicemail from an ex-boyfriend for them to even start doing anything. How sad is that? We just told his hail about that recently. We were like, there was death threats

and the guy was showing up at the house and he was like throwing rocks. And they were like, they were like, until he hurts you, there's nothing we can do. Until he maims you, we really can't do anything about it. Unreal. Shout out to that officer who honestly probably saved my life. Fuck yeah.

Shout out to them. But if every other person I talk to that barely even wanted to listen to me, fuck those people. Fuck right off. Yes, I'm just going to blow past that statement because as you're used to hearing, that is a whole other story. And thanks to a bomb-ass therapist, I've healed from to blow past that statement because as you're used to hearing, that is a whole other story. And thanks to a bomb-ass therapist, I've healed from that experience. Get it!

Anywho, now that you know how the police function in this little town, let's get to the cautionary tale. I drive a truck that has a topper on the back with a lock on the tailgate, which I usually check the same way I would always check my back seat for ax murders because you know, I'm a woman existing in this world. We feel you. It's a hard job, it's a hard-knock life. My routine was usually walk up from the back, check that the tailgate is locked on the way, drag one foot under the bed as I manually unlock

just my driver's side door, and once I'm in, I'd lock the door and glance into the truck bed through the back window. That's really smart. It is. I always do the full check. I like the drag in the foot under the bed. That's window. That's really smart. It is. I always do the full check. I like the drag in the foot under the bed. That's smart.

So I like that. Because you kick. What if they grab your foot, then you kick them in the face. What if you're still having a boyfriend under there? You pound that guy with your face. Well, I feel like I'm calling my face. I love it. You kick him in the face.

You got him. Yeah, you got him. I really just thought I'd done this podcast. You did. You sure did. I just went full dog. Yeah, you got them. I really just I know I've done this podcast You did you sure did just went full dog. Yeah, you sure did then of course plug in my phone Then of course plug in my phone and put on a true crime podcast for the drive wondering why in the world I have such a paranoid routine for just getting in my car because of us Well, I truly don't know what demon with a six cents of humor possessed me this day

But I did not check my tailgate just walked right up to my door like someone asking to be murdered. I did the rest of my routine, and even though thought about getting back out and checking the tailgate, but convinced myself, or the demon on my shoulder, did, that I had done this routine for months and never seen anything suspicious. And I was simply paranoid for no reason. PSA. You're never paranoid for no reason. So I decided to opt out of the true crime

for the morning drive to work and just listen to music. Because surely that would calm the slightly uneasy feeling I had about messing with my routine. I'm about five minutes into the drive. I've stopped for coffee and I'm jamming out to some throwback pop punk. Like I'm on the way to a Blink 182 concert, not my big girl job.

You're just talking about pop punk today. We were. Can I just do a quick little side? I was asking you too. That's why I said that. So I had a real moment, like a real 36-year-old moment. This weekend. My youngest is she's hilarious.

And she just all of a sudden loves Spider-Man. Never seen a second of Spider-Man in her life. Does not know what Spider-Man is. Saw him somewhere, and was like, I love that man. And that's it. So she just became obsessed. And we found out that Disney Jr. has this like,

spidey and his amazing friend's kid version. Shout out to Drew. Why does he know that? It was Drew. I was going to say, how did we find it out? It was Drew. But I don't know who told him. Yeah.

And it's like a kid version of Spider-Man. It's cute. It doesn't have all like the too much action and it's like too much craziness. The only problem with it is that the villain's voice is unfucking bear. Oh yeah, like the green goblin there? No, the rhino guy. Oh yeah, him too. They're all annoying. I hate that guy's voice. Parents, do you feel us? They're all annoying. But she loves it. So she's been like super into it. So now it's her thing when she like gets, she does something that we have skirt to. She's like, no, watch it.

And we're like, hell yeah, you can. So we put it on in the intro theme song starts. And I'm just listening to it. And I'm like, bobbing along to it. And then I hear the voice. And I'm like, wait a second. And then I looked it up and I was like, oh my god. I was like, this song is being sung by Patrick.

What's it, Patrick Stump? Oh, fuck, why do you do this to me? I think it's Stump, I think you're right. Deletzing our follower boy. Oh, my boy. And I had such a moment because this song, and John said it, he was like someone who is exactly your age had this song written.

I was right, Patrick Stump. It was Patrick's phone. It was Patrick's phone. And they were like, because this is such a pop punk vibe to it. Kelly. At one point it goes, what is it?

I don't know if it's your friend. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it.

I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. I'm talking about it. Like I was at it ruined to me though because all of a sudden I was like oh This is okay. This is where we're at now We're at now and then I immediately was like ladies gather around to my six-year-olds and I was like Listen to this song and I put on Grand Theft autumn by fallout boy Which was like my anthem when I was younger and I was like same guy and they were like what?

Like they were just like I'm not I don't care. They didn't really go. I really don't care But it was a real moment. And that's like, um, fucking Blink 182 does the new, or, yeah, fuck, it's either Blink 182 or 741. That does the Scooby Doo song. Oh, really? I think it's Blink 182. I think it just looks like Blink 182.

Yeah, it's just, we're reaching that point. Yeah, so it gets there. Here we are. But yeah, just when you decide to check that. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Most of you have probably heard me saying the praises of pros, the world's most personalized hair care. And if you haven't for those of you who have not, I have to tell you all about the incredible results

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That is PR, OSE, dot com slash morbid for your free end up there. Consultation and 15% off. So the song comes to an end and right on as the radio goes silent for a moment, I hear a thud. Nope. The bed of the truck. Nope. Now I could have written it off as my tire kicking up a rock and the fire where I keep back there

for impromptu bomb fires falling over. That's bad ass. That is bad ass. But no. I had already stopped my brain from checking the back and re-frained from listening to a gruesome writer on the drive, so I think I've had enough of this rational thinking ship for the day. I'm paranoid.

I turned the radio off and moved the rearview mirror to get a better view of the truck bed. For a couple miles, everything seemed fine. But the toper made things really dark back there, and I couldn't see everything, so I was not satisfied. I had about 20 minutes left in my drive and knew the route like the back of my hand. There was a pretty significant curve in the road coming up that I would usually slow down for. Not today, Mr. Satan. Today I am a NASCAR driver and taking that left turn like my life depends on it because it actually might.

So with one hand, white knuckling the steering wheel and one hand ready to grab my phone and call 911, I took the turn prepared to see my emergency boxes and firewood slide across the back of my truck. What I was not prepared to see was a real live person literally fly out of the shadowy corner of the bed, like a demon coming into the daylight when I opened my eyes from a nightmare.

Oh. I screamed internally, but some switch in me flipped. Yeah, my psychology edition would say it was the definition of fight and flight and I toast fight, but it truly felt like a switch. Yes. Education. I went into bad bitch survival mode.

I knew everything else that was in that truck bed, and there was definitely things I could be used as a weapon. And nothing that could immediately break through both the windows between me and him. Thank goodness. I didn't know if he knew I knew he was there, but I saw him talk himself back into the side of the bed. Oh, and knew that as long as I kept driving and kept an eye on him, I was relatively okay.

Who the fuck hides in somebody's truck and creak? Like who fucking does that? What a fucking creep. I got my phone out and called 911. I was put on hold. Is that a real ass thing? It says, I'm sorry, but it feels illegal to immediately put on hold with fucking 911. It certainly should be if it's not.

Someone finally asked me where my emergency was, and I relayed the last mile marker I passed. Please learn how to use mile markers and read paper maps people, it's important. Oh, girl, I'm so bad at that. I told the woman on the phone that someone who was in the back of my truck had access to weapons back there, including a literal ax, if he found it,

and it felt unsafe. She told me that because I was driving south to a different town, she would need to talk to the county to see if a sheriff could get to me and she would need to call me back. What? I'm leaving. Oh, it gets worse.

She suggested I park at the nearest safe pullout location and wait so that I can let an officer know where I am. You know, keep driving. I guess now I can see the logic. No, I don't. No, don't stop your vehicle. No, but come on, read the room, girl.

I have no intentions of stopping. And one last straw, she told me it was probably just a harmless, homeless man who wanted to find a place to sleep. No. It doesn't matter. Somebody's in my truck. I don't know who they are.

And also like, no. Well, she could be right. She could also be so wrong. And I wasn't willing to risk it. So despite me asking her not to, she gets off the line and my stomach drops even further than it already had. Who trained to do that? I thought to myself, all right, pull yourself together,

girl, you've listened to enough podcasts to figure this out. People have survived more dangerous situations. I'm so stressed for you. To wear with all. So I'm so glad you're writing this to us because I'm like, you're OK. I know. So I came up with a plan. I'm not saying it was a good wear with all. I'm so glad you're writing this to us because I'm like, you're okay. I know.

So I came up with a plan. I'm not saying it was a good one, but it was a plan. And I'm here writing the listener tale, so spoiler alert, it works. We were just saying it, but it worked. I took a few deep breaths and knew I just needed to do this without thinking any further and risk talking myself out of it. There was a relatively popular kayak area, launching area, coming up near a river.

There wasn't a real parking lot, but a pullout spot. And I knew the DNR had a trail clam in the area to monitor bears and such. I rounded the corner and saw the spot, empty because it was 7am and didn't usually get busy until later. This was good. Nobody else would be at risk, but there would be a camera in the area just in case my super solid and safe plan didn't work perfectly. I pull onto the dirt, take a deep breath, grab the knife, I keep in my glove box, and get out of the cap. Well, my body did. It felt like my soul and all rational thoughts stayed buckled in screaming at every fiber in my body not to do this, but I kept going. Trying to act normal, I walked to the back corner of the bed, counting how many movements it took for me to get from my seat to the tail light. It was five.

I'm so stressed. It was five. Cripping my knife for my literal life and my left hand, I reached my right hand to the obviously unlocked tailgate and opened it. Then as fast as I could, I made those five movements back to the driver's seat, counting down to what felt like safety, cut the slam, the short door shut, and locked in one motion through the truck and gear, and with no regard for traffic, gasped it back onto the road. I wished I was kidding when I say I saw this man roll out

at the bed of my truck and land in the cloud of dusk through my tires spinning in the dirt along with loose firewood, hoping some of it hit him along the way. Ha-ha-ha. Wow, the rest of my belongings were behind a bungee cord barrier. I had made the week before because I was tired of my belongings were behind a bungee cord barrier. I had made the week before because I was tired of my bins sliding all around. Oh, that's good.

So I drove another five-ish miles to a public parking lot before stopping to close and lock the tailgate. Then I took what finally felt like my first breath since I saw him. In case you were wondering, I still hadn't gotten a call back from the dispatcher I spoke to. Wow. That's bullshit. I let my boss know a call back from the dispatcher I spoke to. Wow. That person. That's bullshit. I let my boss know something had happened and I wouldn't be in yet.

I needed to go to the police station. So I drove to the nearest station and told the man at the desk what happened. To sum up what had already been a long story, they told me that they would check with DNR to look at the footage, took my statement and said they'd be in touch if anything else was needed from me. As you probably guessed, I never heard back from them. Are you kidding me? That night when I got home, I parked in a different place than I usually do,

and inventoryed my things in the truck. While everything was still there, my totes I kept with emergency supplies had been opened and clearly rifled through. So I don't even know what to think about what intentions my sto-o-ah had. Moral of the story, please, for the love of every God and Goddess in the universe, just lock your doors and trust your gut. It is so much better to be paranoid and wrong than to be paranoid and ignore it. Thank you, ladies, for doing the Listener Tales series and for doing more of them lately.

While we do look at them as a nice reprieve from the tragedy of stories like Jack the Ripper, they serve as a platform for healing and cautionary tales for us. And it means a lot to hear you tell and validate our stories. Oh, thank you, man. Also, who the fuck was it? Was it your ex? I'm horrified by this.

I want to know if they ever found out who it was. You're a badass for going through all that. You are wild. That dispatcher needs to have a stern talking to. That dispatcher needs so much and I don't even know to send an all in one sentence. The end of that was really nice because we were just talking about it, how much we love listener tails and it seems like

people love them. Yeah. We're like, oh, I hope they're not going to be upset that we're doing them on a Monday instead of a Friday. That was like perfect. That's hard, I should, I know. Because I think the last tail said something about listener tails too. gonna be upset that we're doing them on a Monday instead of a Friday. And it's like perfect. That's hard, I should, I know. Because I think the last tale said something about listener tales too, so I feel like it's

like weird. You guys were like ones. We're connected. I love you guys. We're connected in a way. You guys rock. But honestly, you, you anonymous you, you did a great job telling that story. I'm so glad you were able to tell it, and that you're okay.

Same. And I hope that everything's going okay. I also hope so. I hope all of those same things. Send them up to you. Love and light. Love and light. And my next listener tale is called listener tales.

I really, I just really wanted a Capri Sun into French Orando. I used to be in that state of mind for so long of my life. It says, nope, it's not, nope. I almost just said, it says, your message is ready to be sent with the following filer link attachments. Gladie dadu, all right.

Well, what did I do? It says, all names can be read awesome. Howdy, my name is Grace, use it if you want. I just can't express to you guys how much this podcast has enriched my life. Oh, use it if you want. I just can't express to you guys how much this podcast has enriched my life. Oh, having something to look forward to is a powerful thing, and you guys are putting out content faster

than I eat a bag of fun-sized Snickers. So I am so much to look forward to. Thank you for that. My stepdaughter led me to your pod, and I love that we share our obsession with your hard work, research, and top-notch comedy. Oh, my, hell yeah. Yeah, so much. She and I are bonded, perhaps, not in blood, but by and top-notch comedy. Oh, my, Kelly, thank you so much.

She and I are bonded, perhaps not in blood, but by our shared love of bloody stories. Shout out here to Kelly, my stepdaughter, and first baby, love you, kid. Oh my God, I love your relationship. I know, that's beautiful. That's so wonderful. I have been a high school art teacher for 27 years,

so you're rad as far as I was gonna say. Every art teacher I ever had, I loved them. Oh yeah. Even like the ones that I used to get in trouble with for like never shining up, I loved them too. You still loved them. Yeah. Every time I go to a former student's wedding,

I see my art babies of the past and their conversations often lead us to, hey, do you listen to more? And then the dialogue just flows from there. I love it. I don't know if you'll ever understand the depths to which you have simply just made my life better. Oh my goodness.

This is like so beautiful. We were having like kind of a rough day. Today, like nothing in particular is just like a lot of things where you're like going wrong. And you just like made it better. You guys are the light in the world. You guys like really made it better. I've been meditating lately. I don't know if you can tell. And I've just been really focusing on light and light like positivity and just like really focusing on that. And when you start to really focus on it, it does diminish the shitty stuff. Oh yeah, because when you're putting shitty stuff out there and like wishing stuff on people

and like talking shit about people, then you're gonna get shitty things back at you. I do still love talking like a little bit of shit. Of course, but like talking shit in your own private, like you know, but when you're like talking shit to like a lot of people, you're like the only talking shit. Yeah, that's good for you.

That's bad. It's like let lift people up. If you have something nasty to say, go whisper to your friend by all means and like have your moment, but like, that's it. Yeah, you know, I don't know. I just feel good lately. I do too.

I feel great. I'm happy for you. Cause it's just positivity, you know? Just, I don't know. I do too. I feel great. I'm happy for you. Because it's just positivity, you know? Just, I don't know. I'm dry-solid. I swallowed that word accidentally in the middle of it. It said, it said, oh. I don't even know.

I just lost my statement. There's just a lot to be thankful for lately. Yeah, there is. There is. A lot to be grateful for. And you know what? There's always a lot to be thankful for. Even if you don't think there is.

So that's my meditation moment for you. If you do have a mirror like that, the workout mirror, I do suggest doing Rachel's meditations. There you go. I fucking love Rachel. I love Rachel. All right, so just honestly, but just like a quick little,

you guys are one of the things I'm grateful for. Oh yeah, that goes about saying. I fucking for that. You guys are like the bees, bees, the cats. Oh yeah, that goes about saying. I think it's for that. You guys are like the bees, knees, the cats, pajamas, the fucking watermelon sugar. You there, you there, Harry. God. Okay, so teaching through COVID and other personal

tough spots was hard, but you two helped to this girl out big time. Here's to Karma making sure that Alaina's book is, oh my god, I love that you're talking about karma now too. Oh my god, guys. So what you just knew. You did. Here's to Karma making sure that a Lainas book

is assumed to be major motion picture. And that Ash is wedding is the most romantic, magical, splendid event that she and Drew deserve. I do the nicest. I don't even like hugs, and I am sending you the hugiest who is. Seriously. Ever.

I love you guys. This really just like pumped us up! I know I can't wait for my fucking wedding on! Oh you guys are cool! I can't wait for September 13th to butcher the run! Check it out at tinyurout.com slash the butcher in the run! I already got my copy and it's signed so eat it! I might forever hype this!

I love it! Spread love and light and like I got my copy for it! Eat it! Okay! Oh thanks guys! I'm really, I got my copy first. Ew. Okay. Oh, thanks guys. Sorry, really sweet. Okay, see what I did there? I spouted niceties and the hope that they'll distract you

while I confessed what a complete and total dumb fuck I was at 15. I already forgot, like real dumb. Like let's touch this electric fence to see if it's working dumb. Like just a little foil in the microwave won't hurt dumb. My little sister one time was like, like I think she put foil in the microwave won't hurt dumb. My little sister one time was like, like I think she put foil in the microwave

and my dad was like, what is that sound? And she was like, oh, I bought this in the microwave. My dad was like, you can't put tin foil in the microwave. Like, what do you do, eh? She's a little bit. Just a little bit. Jinx, you owe me a sprite. And I already took one from your pantry.

You're sure, then? All right, well, shut up now. So, Lallina, do dumb. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm't know. Yeah, I don't know about that. I have no idea. I want to know. I figured out and I just don't understand. It's probably one of the toilet paper don't wipe too long. Yeah, really.

Anyways. Who's went a lot of time fantasizing about the entire cast of the outsiders. I feel you have same. He was my favorite, same. But I would have settled for any greaser. Same. My mom and I never left the grocery store

without a copy of Teen Beat magazine. Same. I loved Teen Beat. Yep. Ah, the 80s. What a glorious backdrop for puberty. I grew up in the small town of Montana. My hometown was maybe an eight square block.

Excuse me. My so hometown was maybe an eight block square. That took so long. You got out of me. You did it. Lots of sweet corn. Corn. It has it. Lots of sweet corn. Corn. It has the juice.

Sugar beads. And boys, who did not understand my love of the cure. I love the fucking cure. And 10,000 maniacs. They were on an episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch Boom. The cure was? No, 10,000 maniacs. Oh, it was like once.

No, 10,000 maniacs. It was like, well, Melissa, we drink mad dog on Saturday night from a solo cup and mad dog again on Sunday morning from the communique, from the communion challenge. Amazing. I went to kindergarten with the same 29 kids I graduated high school with. That sounds like a Drew's town. It does. Drew's town is actually smaller.

I'm trying to create a vibe here. Is it working? Sure is. I hope it doesn't sound like I'm complaining because it was a pretty great place to grow up even with the story that I'm about to tell I believe you I didn't get the gist that you were complaining. Oh, I love you. I'd follow you into the dark I'm ready for this so death cab for Judy Okay, can't avoid it any longer. Here's the story of how basic boy craziness and a staggering lack of common sense

led me to get in a car and buckle up next to a killer What's that? I have attached a newspaper article about the killer who was currently trying to get out of prison. Uh-oh, looking at the photo within the article inspires me to sing Jesus loves me, a little too loud for my family's liking. Here go, I love you. During my freshman year of high school, a scheduling snafu put a lot of freshman girls

and many of the senior boys in the same home at class. That's not good. One of those senior boys lived with his dad who was a long haul truck driver. His house sat on the edge of the eight-box square that made host to my youth and was highly unsupervised. It was in this setting that an unsettling routine started to form.

You see, Caprice Suns has finally made it into my hometown quickstop. Oh my god, quickstop, amazing. So in weeknights, excuse me, so in weekend nights, my friend who I'll call Jessica would meet me in front of her yard and we would walk to the quickstop. Oh my god quickstop. Amazing. So in weeknights, excuse me, so in weekend nights, my friend who I'll call Jessica would meet me in front of her yard and we would walk to the quickstop to buy a Capri Sun. Fucking Capri Suns, they just hit different, don't they? They do. We were so cutting edge with our flammable bangs and jeans. On our return walk along the main drag, we would often be picked up by one of the senior boys and taken to an unsupervised party house.

Damn. Look at you. That's pretty rad. You must have been a cutie little fish man. Yeah. So many lovely swarries were hosted there. No sharkrooterie or wine sprinters. Just Cheeto and ever clear mixed with fruit punch and cool aid. Many a case of mono with some damage or just

or something. I would say so. It was a lovely time to be alive and stupid. Don't you miss those days sometimes? Yes. You won three-day weekend. I was feeling especially pretty. My mom had given me a home part.

Oh. She always protected my eyes from the chemicals by sticking, sticking maxi pads along my hair line. That's true. My mom was always a problem solver. This paragraph was sponsored by Always Maxi Pads T.M. JK, JK, JK. This is Sunday. But we didn't have school that Monday.

Jessica and I planned, excuse me, Jessica and I decided to make a Capri Sun run, just in case there were parties afoot. We walked up and down that drag twice without any of the familiar pickup trucks pulling over to Uber us to party town, a fresh perm waste in. But wait, what's this coming down Main Street? An unfamiliar car with two unfamiliar faces?

These guys were not in our homeic class. Uh-oh. Uh-oh, is right. The car reminded me of every Pimp Mobile Image Fund. Oh my God. The car reminded me of every Pimp Mobile Image fed to me by the mass of TD in our living room. The boys weren't ugly.

My thirst for Capri Sun had been quenched, but my thirst to kiss a rando had not. When passenger guy, it was a fast and easy guy said, you want to go drink some beer? Jessica and I proved our non- just like laughing so hard. Jessica and I proved our non-mence-a-member status with an in-stereo-shur. Fuck. Just writing that makes my menopausal stomach lurch. I promise I'm older and smarter now. I believe you. Yeah, we're all dumb when we're young.

Through small talk, we learned out that our new cruising buddies were from a town just 18 miles down the road. I was very familiar with the town. My dad played golf there, and I took swimming lessons there as a child. We drove around with these guys. We drank some cheap beer. We made out at the graveyard Jessica got dibs on the super hot one, and I made out with the blonde one and the Gamma cargo pants.

Ooh, yeah, that's about it. I did not take heed when Bon Jovi warned me from the radio that this love was like bad medicine. Eventually, the super hot one took a makeup break to brag about his football rushing stats, and his, ugh, I hate this so much. I remember when I thought I was straight and I used to do things like this and it was awful.

And his bench press backs, oh wait, that's lie. This douche canoe fucking boasted about shooting his grandpa's race horse. What? And burning down that same grandpa's laundromat, he was so goddamn proud of himself. Oh, no, thank you. No.

Even grace the teenage knucklehead took back you. Just like I said, and I remember our curfews being earlier than usual, that I've been doing. We broke some Olympic records on the four block walk back to our street. Our Nike Cortes shoes earned their keep that night. The only element of either of us that remained

untouched by fear was my dope ass burn still flawless. We had a hell of a story for school that Tuesday. remained untouched by fear was my dope ass per still flawless. We had a hell of a story for school that Tuesday. We moved on in the creepy feelings lessened over time, flash forward for years. I'm home from college on a weekend chilling with my parents after church. While searching the Sunday paper for the target, target always and forever, sales fire. I noticed that the French, French page of the paper is featuring super hot guy from the graveyard, but it's a mugshot. Oh, oh,

Q-Gut-Ak. He's looking less hot for sure, but it's still him. I reluctantly read on. Here's the thing to borrow a phrase. You can have it. You can totally have it. Hot guy had been shooting at houses from the road for fun. This was in one of the most beautiful pockets of Montana where celebrities have lush mountain retreats. Hot guy would just drive around shooting at these homes from the window of his truck. Some locals knew that it was him and were ready to report him. Formerly, hot guy heard about these young men

who were, sorry, who were about to do the right thing and report him, found them at a party that night, offered them some weed, gets in a truck with them to smoke, shoots them both, and then lights the truck on fire. What? I was shook, scared, grateful to be alive, and so sad for the families of these young murdered people. That's horrific. My cowboy-turned-girl for dad was at the kitchen island with his toast and tea.

I asked if he'd seen the article. He became animated saying that he used to play golf with the formerly Hawkeyes grandpa. My dad had known this entire time about this kid and the murdered race horse and the church long torch laundromat. He'd been golfing buddies with the grandpa while all his juvenile crimes had been happening. Had my dad known I had been in a car with that kid this night, I would have been stuck home with him watching the love boat every Saturday night for eternity. Oh my God. What was this life I was living?

Also, why am I still calling this fucker hot guy? Like, it happens. It's okay, you were saying formally. Yeah. I think I realized then that some part of me thought this guy's boasting in the graveyard was just the model of an insecure dick desperately seeking some sort of twisted clout,

but it wasn't but meat floor. Yeah, why would you ever think that that would be that? No, never in a million years. I returned to college telling my art major friends about this new headline in my life, but they were too busy chain smoking and reading Ginsburg's poetry to give two fucks. But I knew that I had dodged a bullet, perhaps literally.

It's one of those things that still brings me out of sleep. My youngest is 15 now, and every time she leaves the house, I hope she has a better sense than her mama. Her kick-ass dad is now buried within yards of that make-out spot. Oh, my God. My beautiful mom's urns soon to join him. Oh, I'm sorry.

It's been a dark few years, helped by my morbid podcast as one of my nightlights. All. Life is so beautiful, but at times so weird. I'm here for both. Oh. Love you girls with all my heart. Your work matters.

Oh, yes. Yes, I would love to hear your take on Joseph Duncan, his work in Idaho, terrified me. I got you. I'm on it. Oh, okay. I got you. That works out. Wow.

Great. Great. I could like see that entire story play out in my mind and I could like smell it and everything you're a brilliant writer. You are wonderful. And I'm so happy you're okay. What a tale for real. What a tale for real.

I am, wow, I'm speechless. I'm speechless, speechless. Wow. Grace, that was freaking amazing. All right, now that Grace has brought us all to our knees here, what is the next one? Listener Tales, a major movie star slash murderer hit on me once. Guess who?

A major movie star and murderer. Uh-oh. I don't know. Spaghetti-os. Let me put this into a Google Doc. Because I find me too. And do I have a stigma to remove this? Please continue to write in.

You can. And me. And do I have a stigma to you? Please continue to write in. You can. And for me. You mean as a tribe of people. A point of moment. We could edit this out, but we're probably not going to, because you're going to be here for all of it. Everybody. Is fun.

And it's in the dock now. And it has the juice. It has the juice. It has the juice. Can you imagine a more beautiful listener tail? That's a winner. It's a winner tail. A big PDF, it has the phone, it has the phone.

Yeah, you know it's fun, Ash, what kept going with it even after, right? You got this stuff and it got the... How are you good, are you ready? I was just letting you finish. Oh, I'll let you run a roll. I was all around. I liked it.

I was like, butter. All right, let's see. Let's I'll go like you were on a roll. I was on a roll. I liked it. I was like, butter. All right, let's see. Let's see who this is. Hello, you two lovely weirdos and all others. Oh, wow. Thanks for being so inclusive to everybody around here. We're in an empty room with just the two of us, but I appreciate it.

As far as we know. As far as we know. Oh, my gosh. My name is First Name Only because of the story and who is involved. Julie. Hey, Julie. I'm old and gray now, literally, same.

But was once young, fresh, and I guess beautiful, because I worked in Hollywood and was often asked out. Get it. You still are beautiful. You are. I didn't have high self confidence, ladies, believe in yourself. Yeah.

Yeah. Anyway, I have so many stories, but this one takes the cake. Every time I listen to you, I say to myself, I must get this story to Ashina Leda, but it's a goodie. But time always evades me. Okay, ready for the semi-short, but creepy story? I'm ready. Let's go. Let's go. My family was a Hollywood family of extras. It's what we did. Back in the day, you can make a decent living doing this kind of work, and it was fun meeting the rich and

famous. One day, my mom and I got a call in the same job. Those were the best. We got to keep each other company, especially since it was on location, meaning it was not at a studio, but somewhere out in LA. That day, it was at the LA Police Department. It was the first day of filming a new movie, of either Part 2 or 3 of a well-known movie, to be announced later in the story. My memories didn't that great anymore, but I'm fairly sure it was Part 2. Anyway, that is an important.

It was a decent day. The actors were actually pretty friendly. Sometimes you have actors who were pretty rude to the extras and can either ignore them completely, have rules that we can't even look at them, cough cough, gym, balouchi, oh. Or some that are incredibly nice to us. Steve Martin! Oh, I'm so happy! Steve Martin!

I'm so happy! I bet Martin Short would have been as equally as nice to you. I am so happy you have no idea how. I love Steve Martin. I'm so happy. I bet Martin Short would have been as equally as nice for you. I'm so happy you have no idea how much I love Steve Martin. I love Steve Martin. Where's Steve Martin's standhouse? You have no idea that just made me so happy. That, yeah. I got to tell you all that later.

Man, this set of listener tales is really just like pumped me up right now. I think that we were meant to read these today. Yeah. The universe brought these listener tales to us because I needed that. Yes. So Steve Martin's great.

I knew it. Anywho for his autograph. Now, doing this is normally a big no-no. You can be asked to leave a show, slash movie, and be blacklisted. Not be allowed back. The A.D. assistant director, who works with the extras, could complain to your agent and you would never be able to see the picture. And he's the one talking to me.

I'm going to ask him for his autograph. Now, doing this is normally a big no-no. You can be asked to leave a show, slash movie, and be blacklisted. Not be allowed back. The A.D. assistant director, who works with the extras, could complain to your agent, and you would never work again. Damn. So you never bring a camera or ask for an autograph, but since he was so friendly to me, I did.

He said, have lunch with me, and you can have an autograph picture. Both you and your mom. I was stunned, but said, okay. I don't want to say anything yet, because I don't know who it is. I don't either. I'm nervous. When we broke for lunch, my mom and I waited our turn. Actors and film crew get first dibs. Extras are always last. Oh, no, it's not. I saw it. It was first. He was head of the class. He motioned to me and my mom to join him in line. I said, I can't. I have to wait my turn. He said, this is my film, you two are my guests. And with that, the AD told my mom and me to go ahead.

Nice. Look at this luxury. I want a nice person so far. But after we ate, we don't know who this is, by the way, I'm not reading ahead, so this is like a real nerve wracking. It's a real nerve wracking. After we ate, he said he could not find any pictures. Could he please have my address?

He promised me he would send me an autograph picture. I obliged. When we were done for the day, mom and I were getting our things together to go. As we were moving, he motioned for me to come here. I walked over and before I knew it, and in front of my mother, this six foot man pulled me into his arms and shoved his tongue down my throat

for what felt like an eternity. Oh, what? Slap. That's what happened. I thought there was a bug. No, that's what. He's the bug. Oh.

After, and feeling quite embarrassed, he said it was wonderful spending the day with us. To have it happen anywhere is like embarrassing, like you'd feel a sense of embarrassment. But for that to happen in front of your mother, like fuck no. And it's like who gives you the right? Yeah, who gave you permission here?

To have it not me. Two weeks later, I was at Paramount Studios walking down the empty lot towards the commissary for breakfast. As I was walking, someone was walking towards me about a hundred feet away. They looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. I was shaking my finger at him like, I looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. I was shaking my finger at him like I know you,

but I can't place you. And as we neared each other smiling, I said this to him. He laughed and said, oh really? As soon as he said this, I realized it was the other movie star from the movie I had worked on two weeks prior. I was so embarrassed. We laughed and he said, you're the one blah can't stop talking about. My dear, do you know he's married?

Oh, I said, no, I just wanted a autograph. He continued, he is bad news. He is not a nice man. Do me a favor, forget you ever met him. Oh shit. With that, he hugged me and went on his way. It's a little garter. I know, can you say?

Tell me all this. Well, maybe it was a sweet Martin. Oh my God, if it was Steve Martin, I'd cry. Maybe if we can figure out the movie later, we'll figure out. Oh, I see a line ahead of time, and I know who the fuck it is. Oh, I just saw one thing that led me to an ocean. Not to see the same car.

Yeah, sure did. So the car, yeah. Oh, girl. Not too long after this, I left Hollywood and moved far away. 1995, I was working in a diner, and we had a small TV in the kitchen. The news was on. Live TV footage of the chase on the LA Highway of a white Ford Bronco in a bunch of police cars.

Oh, Jason Sincere accused of murdering his wife and her friend. I remember Leslie Nielsen. I'm not shitting your dick right now. Elena literally just fell to the ground. Leslie Nielsen was the actor who warned you? Ash just melts two statues, and I can't. I don't know for that. I cannot. I'm gonna Google.

Please, Google. Sorry if you can hear my stuff. Leslie Nielsen was the one who warned you. What a life. Wow, okay. Oh, Leslie, I fucking there. Leslie Nielsen was the one who warned you what a life. Wow, okay. Oh, Leslie, I fucking love Leslie. Leslie, I remember Leslie Nielsen warning me about him and I just knew in my gut this guy is guilty.

Maybe I'm wrong, but every time I think about him I feel gross and sad. The movie we were working on was naked gun two and a half. Never seen it. This is my type of Hollywood story. Does it make the morbid cut? Yeah. Yeah, it does. Yeah, Hollywood story. Does it make the morbid cut? Yeah. Yeah, it does. Yeah, hell yeah, brother.

I have other stories too, but not if the Hollywood kind. Please send them. Send them. Send them. I grew up with grandparents who talked to the dead. It's not. Some ghost whispers. It was often common for them to announce a spirit

was in the room, and I loved hearing the stories of their lives. I'm such a believer because of them. My grandfather saw the spirit world as clear as this realm. Crazy. Anyway, keep it up, weird ladies, but not so weird as having a Hollywood star who is turning into a killer shove

is tongue down your throat weird. Eeeeee-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e Oh, my goodness. What? That's wild. Wow. That made the cut. Certainly did. That made the cut. I'm in real estate. I'm in real estate. And the Ilson just warning you, what a lovely soul.

You know what it is? Canada. It's Canada. It's always Canada. It's what it is. And for to no Steve Martin, it's exactly what I knew. He was. I know. That gives you...

There's no way on any green planet that Steve Martin or Martin Short could ever, ever be bad people. No. Ever. They're light. They are. They are. It does.

It really does. Father the bride. That's what you got to say to me. I love that movie. Me and my mom used to watch that movie all the time. I love Steve Martin, so that was a wonderful and also terrifying story. I don't even know what to say about that story.

We have to do one more simply to like round that out because you had a you end on that. I can't believe that. I'm sorry that that like he like assaulted you as I'm telling that that like he like assaulted you as I'm talking to you. That's like really fucked up. Yeah, you don't stick with my goodness.

You're not gonna need someone to like you. You've had for real. And you're beautiful. You are beautiful. You are beautiful and you still are. You remain beautiful. You will remain beautiful forever. You are.

You are. It's true. It's true. James Flun, does that do it? It is. Yeah. All right. Well, the next one is simply entitled

Listen to Tail submission. Oh, I like that. Just bearing the lead. And it says, Alaina and Ashley, that's my government name never news. Is that my wife and daughter? It's OK, I forgive you. OK, my wife and daughter.

What you say? It's OK, it's OK. My wife and daughter. My wife and daughter. My wife and daughter. Our huge fans of your podcast, and I listen to a bunch of them. I think they're interesting and creepy to say the least.

A few weeks back. I was delighted to learn that one of my kids' submissions to you was one of the stories you ran earlier this year. You probably will recall my kid as B, and their tale about a malevolent Danish spirit who followed them back from Europe. I do remember B. Oh yeah, B.

Well, I too have a submission that I hope you find interesting. It's not so much a supernatural one, but more one that fits in the super creepy true crime vein you all seem to love. Enjoy and just call me Dr. B. Dr. B, I love your entire family. Dr. B, wonderful.

I love y'all. The fact that you are writing that you're like, I think you're pretty interesting. They love you, but that you're like, I think you're pretty interesting. They love you, but you're pretty interesting. You're all right. But here's my crazy story. I love you. I love that writing.

Listener Tales is a family affair at this point. And you keep it real, and I appreciate that about you. Dr. B, go off. And your kid rules. Your kid does rule. All right, so it starts off. It says, I work as a critical care physician. If Dr. B couldn't get any cooler.

I am often on call during the daytime hours and the nighttime hours. The ICU I work in can be an eerie and mysterious place at night. I have long maintained a saying that many of my colleagues are familiar with. Nothing good happens in an ICU between the hours of midnight and 6 a.m.

Yep. This was certainly the case one night, a few years back. I was covering the night shift. During the day shift, my colleagues had admitted a 60-year-old man with septic shock. He was a big smoker and had been losing lots of weight and was wasting away. Imaging of his chest and neck showed a large neck mass

that was very worrisome for cancer and several nodules in his lungs. That suggested that lung cancer or metastatic disease could be present. Upon seeing the imaging results, his primary care provider told that he appeared to have metastatic cancer that was non-operative and terminal. That's horrible.

I know. He had been advised to get his things in order and prepare for the worst as he was likely not going to be alive a year from that time. Just prior to his transfer to the ICU, he had undergone a biopsy of neck lesion that appeared to be highly suspicious for malignancy. He had been referred to oncology, the cancer doctors, but had not seen them. When he came to the ICU, he looked horrible.

He was weak and as thin as a twig. He looked like a living skeleton. He said he was depressed but wanted to be left alone. We started him on antibiotics and chemical agents used to keep his blood pressure up. A large IV line was placed and another line was placed into one of his arteries to monitor his blood pressure around the clock. It did not take long for him to make quite an impression on the staff taking care of him. He was not a nice man by any accounts and often dropped F-bombs and insults at the nurses and last shout out technicians and nursing assistants. Oh jeez. He was really going nice man by any accounts and often dropped F-bombs and insults at the nurses and last shout out technicians and nursing assistants.

Oh geez. He was really going through a lot. He was going through it. You know, don't do that to people. But they're trying to take care of you. So midday through the night we hit a calm in the ICU. This is a phenomenon that often happens at the deepest and darkest parts of the night. It's quite spooky at times when the ICU takes on this silence. Oh yeah. I can look here and at any rate, I was sitting in my office that rests in the bowels of the ICU where there are no windows. At times, this office actually

feels more like a cell, but it is readily accessible to all of the nurses. They always know where to find me. That night, one of them came to me to straw and upset. Dr. Kaye, she began, I don't know what to do. She was visibly shaking as she said this. What's the matter? I said, Mr. X, she answered. The guy they admitted earlier with the cancer just told me something horrible.

He said that he knew he was going to die and wanted to talk to a priest. No problem, I said, offering to console her. I suppose he wants last rights. That seems appropriate. No, she said, now shaking more. He wants to tell a priest about the two women he killed and where he wants last rights. That seems appropriate. No, she said, now shaking more. He wants to tell a priest about the two women he killed and where he buried the bodies.

What do I do? What do you do? I don't know what you do. I felt like all the air in the room had instantaneously been sucked out of the area. I was stunned. I said, let's get him a priest, but I suppose we also need to inform the police of this development.

Yeah. We brought in a priest and he confessed suppose we also need to inform the police of this development. We brought in a priest and he confessed to having murdered two women who had been sex workers years ago, but he did not say where the bodies were or where the murders had taken place. The priest advised that we contact the police as such a crime was not protected by confession confidentiality. We called the police and they said they would send an officer in the following day to try to get more information from him. Well, in the time between his unsettling conversation with his nurse and the next morning, another major development occurred. First, the biopsy results of his neck mass came back benign, meaning there was no cancer present. And second, imaging studies of his lungs from several years prior came back and were identical to the ones that we now had.

Wow. The nodules in his lungs were unchanged, meaning they were not getting any bigger over several years and were not behaving like cancer. Because you know what I've got to say. I don't think he has cancer. He was also visited by an oncologist who told him that he had extensively reviewed all of his biopsy studies, yep studies, and imaging studies, and it appeared he did not. Oh, my!

This guy just confessed. He sailed his ship up the river. He was told that once he got over the infection that it caused his sepsis, he would likely live several more years, though he needed to stop smoking. Shortly after the oncologist left, a police officer arrived. At this point, Mr. X was no longer depressed. Rather, he was jovial, even giddy. When the police officer came to his room,

his nurse said that there was a police officer present who was ready to take his confession. What confession? Oh, he asked. He asked. His nurse reminded him of the events of the night before, and his conversation with the priest, what priest? He said, I didn't talk to no priest.

Oh, he was reminded of how he had said that he had killed two women and buried them somewhere. Ha! He chuckled, you're funny. I didn't kill no woman. I must have confessed with all that shit you were giving me. The morphine and sedatives do that to me. What? The morphine and sedatives.

You can't obsess to murder? Like what? What? He denied ever saying any You can't obsess to murder? Like what? What? He denied ever saying any of the stuff he had said the night before and remains steadfast in his denial of committing any murders. Of note, he had not received any morphine or other incentives the night before. And that's what?

What? That's the listener tale. Dr. B. Dr. B. What happened? Doctor B ended and said he did not. He had any sort of... Or Murphy. He killed those women.

He did! Oh my god. Doctor B! Doctor fucking B. What the fuck? I need to know who this man's was. I know you can't tell me because I kept up with him. What?

Story. Holy canole, you guys brought those stories to the top leg. Oh my goodness. File, my. That was a banner one. That was wild. He's like, you have nodules in your neck. You're biopsying you.

You have no long time to live. I'm not gonna live the year. Can I get a priest tan? I killed these two ladies. I never killed anyone. And it's probably the sedative, some morphine. And then Dr. B's like, boom, we didn't give them any sedatives and no morphine. That's insane. Whoa, whoa. I love that writing listener tales. It's like a family thing now. I love that. That was great to hear. Wow, we started off with

the audio and we ended with the with the We just, that was, that gave. That gave you guys gave. You also made us feel fucking amazing. So good. I feel like I can just like conquer the world right now. You guys have made it amazing. I love. You've given so many good vibes.

All the vibes. Hopefully we got like some cool stuff cooking and I'm hoping that we can give the vibes back. You have like a good amount of announcements that we're probably gonna be making in the next couple of weeks and Shit guys. Yeah, you guys are gonna shit. Yeah, you really are shit. I shit. I also might so Alina is actually Fishing as we speak because maybe we already know about something that we're waiting to be able to give it to get the green light.

I can't talk ever. Why do I have to podcast? But yeah, I love you guys. And we hope that you keep listening. I hope you keep it. We're, but not so worth it. You're on your way home with your mom and you're like, oh, MG, this is such a nice little time.

And we're listening to the music and whoa, whoa, whoa, listen to the music. And then the guy in the overalls is like, I will listen to the music. I'm waiting over here. I'm like, wow. Definitely not so weird that And then the guy in the overalls is like, I will listen to the music. I'm waiting over here. I'm like, wow. Definitely not so weird that you have lasagna with John Wayne Geats.

And I think I can just say that as what it is. Definitely, Gabe, it's so weird that you drop the fucking man's that is hiding in your fucking cab out of the cab by just like, woo, a swerve. Definitely keep it so weird that you're drinking Capri-cent at all times. But don't keep it so weird that you hang out with some randos and you're cemetery at night night because although probably that's what teenage dreams are

Mato, it's not what adult dreams are made of and like you might not live to tell a tale if you do that Don't ever keep it so weird that OJ Simpson is anywhere near you ever ever ever ever and do keep it so weird that your doctor Be because like holy can only but don't keep it so weird that you confess to murder if you haven't done it And I don't think that you didn't do it I think that you did do it because you didn't even have any sedatives or morphine, sir. Oh, hi. Hey, prime members. You can listen to morbid, early, and Add Free on Amazon Music.

Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen Add Free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. What if you were trafficked into a cult over shot nine times or fell in love with a vampire or went into a minor surgery and woke up one week later, paralyzed? What would you do? I'm Whit Missildine, the creator of this is actually happening, a podcast from Wondry that

brings you extraordinary true stories of life-changing events, told by the people who lived them. From a young man that dooms his entire future with one choice, to a woman who survived a notorious serial killer, you'll hear their first-person account of how they overcame remarkable circumstances. Each episode is an exploration of the human spirit and personal discovery. These haunting accounts sound like Hollywood movies, but I assure you this is actually happening. Follow this is actually happening wherever you get your podcasts.

You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wundery app. you