My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 393

Episode Date: July 22, 2024

This week’s hometowns include pirate traysure and a working dog named Monty.  Support this podcast by shopping our latest sponsor deals and promotions at this link: https://bit.ly/3UFCn1g Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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I'm journalist Becky Milligan, host of The Butterfly King, a World War II murder mystery podcast on exactly right. It's a cruel tale of a doomed royal dynasty. When King Boris of Bulgaria dies suddenly in 1943, every nation is a suspect. Join me as I unravel 80 years of lies and cover-ups to get to the truth. Who killed the Butterfly King? Binge all eight episodes of The Butterfly King, available now wherever you get your podcasts.

Hello and welcome to my favorite murder. The mini-sode. That's right. We tell you your stories. Ah, Jinx. The Jinx and we're doing it on camera for the fan cult. For the holidays. For the holiday fan cult. I look like Dennis the Menace in this shirt.

And I look like a vampire in the summertime. Because I am a vampire in the summertime. Want me to go first? Sure. We're just going to kick it right into high gear. One of our favorite topics, lost and found real pirates' treasure. And then it says photo included. Hello, MFM crew.

I know how much Karen and Georgia love found treasure stories. So I wanted to share my treasure story involving real life pirates, a murder and treasure. I'll make this as short as possible. Let's get into it. Let me take you back to Newport, Rhode Island, circa the early 1700s. The way the story goes is that my grandfather's grandfather, I'm gonna call him Gigi Grandpa,

was living on a small coastal farm with his parents and was tending to the farm solo while his family was in town for the day. He was maybe eight years old. That track so far? Handle all this livestock, you dumb little asshole. BRB. Don't smoke all my cigars. BRB. Don't get bubonic plague. So it said he was maybe eight years old, basically an adult in the 1700s. While Gigi Grandpa was tending to the animals, a large and beat-up ship anchored off the coast and a small rowboat of tattered, sea-worn men

came to shore. And then in parentheses it says in all caps, pirates. Out of fear, Gigi Grandpa ran into the house to hide, but watched the men through the window. It seemed as if they were burying a body near the coastline. Perhaps one of their own men or maybe a murder? We'll never know for sure. Once they finished, they pillaged the garden for food and stole a couple animals, and one of the pirates headed towards the house to see if anyone was home. Upon entering, he found Gigi Grandpa cowering in a corner, eight-year-old Gigi Grandpa, cowering a corner and took pity on him as the pirate was barely older than Gigi Grandpa himself. Oh my God. So the 12-year-old pirate comes up and finds the eight-year-old. Take Gigi Grandpa with you and have adventures in the

sea. Truly every eight-year-old boy's fantasy come to life. Absolutely. Except for that I think most eight-year-olds are like, I don't want a 12-year-old. Let's get someone that's at least in high school, if not older as a pirate. So upon entering, he found Gigi grandpa cowering in a corner and took pity on him as the pirate was barely older than him as a gesture of thanks. The pirate handed him a scrimshaw ring with a portrait of a woman inscribed on the face and the pirates took off not to be seen again. The ring was passed down in my family

through each generation and the story came with it. There's actually a picture book written about this story with help from my grandparents called the Scrimshaw Ring. You can probably find it on Amazon. Ugh. That is until the early aughts, when the ring seemed to have disappeared. It disappeared around the same time my grandfather passed

and my family chose to believe that he took it with him. My family was pretty devastated over the loss of the ring and its history, but the story lived on, often re the loss of the ring and its history, but the story lived on, often retold at the holidays and get-togethers when reminiscing on my late grandfather. However, about five years ago, the ring turned up again, nearly 20 years after it was lost. My grandmother was moving out of the house. She shared with my grandfather and while going through 55 years of stuff that had accumulated

in the house, she found the ring stuck in the back of a drawer in my grandfather's study. A picture of the ring was sent out through our group chats and this seemed almost unreal to me as my sisters and I had never actually seen the ring or even a picture of it before. We weren't 100% convinced it even existed, but it did. It's an incredible ring carved entirely out of scrimshaw with a carving of a woman's portrait on the face. The ring is also tiny. It doesn't even fit over the knuckle of my pinky. So the pirate was either really, really young or people in the 1700s had baby hands. I've attached pictures of the ring to this

email. Sorry, they're not great. My grandmother took them. Hey, look at this. Oh my God. It's so haunted and it's like so beautiful. I've never seen anything like that. I know, right? It's very different and cool. There's like a really ornate frame and then almost like a pencil drawing looking thing of a lady that kind of looks like olive oil from Popeye. It's that look that was hot in the 1700s. And it's back now, which is middle part, slick down. Yeah, little gold lips, thin eyebrows.

And this part is bone. That's what the scrimshaw thing means. It's like carved bone, I guess. I don't know what scrimshaw was. I know scrimshaw thing means. It's like carved bone, I guess. I don't know what scrimshaw was. I know scrimshaw Pilsner. That's as far as my knowledge of what scrimshaw is. Yeah, that was actually Alejandra left me a note at the top of the email that said she looked it up

because she needed to know too. And it's jewelry made out of ivory or bone with engravings or carvings. Wow, that's so cool. Thanks you guys for all you do. You've been keeping me company on my road trips for years, and I'm so grateful for the attention you shine on mental health, safety, and minority issues.

I always learn something new when I listen to you. Stay sexy and don't let 55 years of shit pile up in your house, or you might lose something important. Emmy, she her. Wow. Oh, that is treasure times two. Also in such the perfectly missing spot. Yeah, like not a big deal. Like you could have looked there.

It's like not impossible. But behind a drawer is- Behind a drawer? One of behind a drawer. Oh, I was thinking the back of a drawer. Oh my gosh. And so, and this is the reason I believe this because I just saw a TikTok this morning where a woman goes, I just picked up this dresser on the back of a drawer. Oh my gosh. And so, and this is the reason I believe this, because I just saw a TikTok this morning

where a woman goes, I just picked up this dresser on the side of the road and it's this super old looking dresser. And she goes, and one of the doors wouldn't close. So I looked behind it, she pulls out this little ring box that has fucking like three diamond rings in it. Oh my God.

Which is like full, full TikTok treasure. That's why I'm picturing that this was a similar thing where it somehow falls behind the drawer. That makes total sense. I can always check behind your drawers. Oh my God, that is amazing. If a drawer doesn't close all the way, treasure. That is unbelievable, I love it.

Okay, let's do a great grandfather's suspicious death and obituary. Perfect. I love it. Okay, let's do a great grandfather's suspicious death and obituary. Perfect. Here we go. Hey, hey, hey, I think this will be the one. Yay. You're right. You're right. My great aunt Anne, who is still with us at 97 and sharp as a tack, loves to tell the

story about her grandfather Hugh Devlin, who died in a suspicious manner. His obituary lays it all out well. And the headline of the obituary is, Miss took poison for cold cure. He's dead. Oh, wow. Saving on words there. What newspaper was that in? I don't know. Their local one. He's dead.

He's dead. Wow. And then the obituary reads Hugh Devlin, a plasterer living in Washington Avenue, Dunton, died yesterday from the effects of carbolic acid, which he had taken by mistake. Oh, that's horrible. I know. Devlin had been suffering from a cold for several days and Friday night he got out of bed to take a dose of medicine.

This is his obituary. There were two bottles on the shelf and one contained carbolic acid. Devlin got hold of it and swallowed a quantity of the poison. A doctor was called, but although everything was done for him, Devlin died. And then it says suspicious, right?

My great aunt Anne believes strongly that her grandmother Agnes, quote, helped him along. Oh, that's hard to say, believed strongly that her grandmother Agnes quote, helped him along. Oh, that's all for now. Keep doing the awesome work you do, John. If I'm not mistaken, and I think I'm getting this from like Ms. Marple, carbolic acid like eats you up inside.

Why would it be next to the cold medicine? Right, it would not. But if like, why would it be, it's almost like, are the bottles the same? Yes, they're probably the same because that happens. You're like, oh, this is, you know, foot cream. And it's in the same thing as like whatever cream, but who keeps carbolic acid in their medicine cabinet or wherever next to the medicine, you know what I mean? Or even on the nightstand, which means someone else put it there like, grandmother Agnes.

I think that's the Agatha Christie story I'm thinking of. Wow. Damn. Damn. He's dead. He's dead. In case you didn't know. Do you ever walk into a room and think, wow, I hate it here?

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That's a R T I C L E dot com slash murder to get $50 off your first purchase of $100 or more. Goodbye. This podcast is brought to you in part by Squarespace. Hey Canada, this is Georgia and I have to come clean. Turns out I don't know everything, but if you want to talk cats, I'm your girl. Vintage dresses, I'm here to help. My one blind spot is that I don't know the first thing

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Dearest MFM Posse, I was driving on highway one headed south from Monterey to my home in big sir California. And then a parentheses that says, yes, people live here. It had been raining heavily on and off and it was the day before Easter. Anticipating a shit show of tourist traffic on highway one, I was prepared for a slow and leisurely ride with lots of deep breaths to give me patience. As I crossed one bridge and was headed towards another,

I saw a car ahead of me swerve suddenly to the left. I was thinking they were avoiding a puddle, a big dark puddle from the rain. My internal conversation was congratulating myself on having a Toyota truck that I could drive through puddles. As I got close, I realized it was not a puddle, but an open abyss directly down to the beach, hundreds of feet below.

Oh my God, you could see the beach, holy shit. Yeah, I swerved and missed going into it by a foot. Oh! I immediately put on my hazards and was shocked as cars continued to drive around casually in both directions. I stopped and did my damnedest to dissuade people from continuing to drive, all the while still stunned that I didn't go into this abyss myself. After a few minutes, people started to get the clue. There was no cell service where I was, so I jutted ahead to where I could call 911,

which apparently another local resident had just done. Within 30 minutes, Highway 1 was closed in both directions. And since there was already an existing closure another 30 miles south, around 1,500 people ended up being trapped in Big Sur overnight, some sleeping in their cars, some in makeshift shelters at our state park and lodges. I'm still absolutely astounded that no one drove into it, including myself. In Big Sur, we are used to road closures happening, most often landslides coming down and covering Highway 1, but this was unlike anything many of us had seen, just a giant chunk of Highway

1 falling out in the middle of the day. The next day, they were eventually able to caravan the visitors out. For the next five weeks, residents and essential workers were able to go through an early morning or evening convoy. So you had to wait. If you had to go anywhere, you had to wait and go at a certain time of day.

Our Big Sur community is used to having all sorts of natural disasters coming our way, but this was an unusual one and it still gives me the heebie-jeebies. Lucky for me, I was coming home with a big haul of groceries and able to hunker down comfortably in Big Sur. Thanks for all you do. Day one listener here and a live show enthusiast. Love, Alicia. Wow, Alicia.

A, I want to move to Big Sur, please. It's so gorgeous there. It's wildly wild. It's wildly wild. It's tiny. It's all forest. It's like people just choose to go live in the forest, basically. I don't want that part. But then you come upon those like little inns and stuff. Oh my god. So cute. Gorgeous. Okay, my next one's called stranger on a plane. Hi, everyone. I've been meaning to write in this hometown for about five years and finally sat down to do it. It has many things you love. 90s kids, dads putting their children in dangerous situations, stranger danger, and a glitch in the Matrix.

Let's get into it. Perfect. I know. It was the summer of 1996, and I was 10 years old. I'm an only child and live with my family in Syracuse, New York, and wanted to visit my grandmother down in Florida. My parents couldn't take the time off work for an extended vacation, so they decided

to send me down on my own. My dad was an air traffic controller and was able to fly for free on standby, so he had the great idea to fly me down on my own. My dad was an air traffic controller and was able to fly for free on standby, so he had the great idea to fly me down, have lunch with his mom, and then fly back. On the way back, the plan was the same. My dad flew down, had lunch with his mother and I, and we planned to board my flight. Unfortunately, my dad was bumped from the return flight home, and they could not move my seat to the other flight going to Syracuse.

I'm sure he went through a hundred scenarios before making a decision, but in hindsight, I really think we could have just waited a day. Instead, my dad put me on the plane by myself, checked that I knew where I was to go, and told me to tell anyone that asked that I was 14. As that was the youngest age,

children could fly by themselves without prearrangements. How old are they actually? 10. But no, there's more. There were many problems with this situation. First, I did not have a direct flight. Instead, I had a two to three hour layover in Philadelphia. No, no, no, no, no. One of the biggest and busiest airports in the country. I just did a three hour layover in Denver and I was scared the whole time and I'm 54. So a 10 year old making that happen and making sure they go to the right place. Holy shit. It gets worse.

Oh. I would have to transfer planes and find my gate all by myself. Second, there was no way anyone could possibly mistake me for being a 14 year old. At the time I was about four feet tall and looked seven years old at best. It says I still get carted on the regular despite me being in my late thirties.

Lastly, dad was so nervous he didn't phone my mom and boarded a flight that would arrive in Syracuse about 30 minutes after mine if all went according to plan. So there I was armed with my backpack full of Goosebump books and a bag with my bowling ball, which my grandmother had insisted I bring since she was involved with multiple bowling leagues and headed on a connecting flight. What? It's like, they're, it's like, they just keep adding like or impractical jokers or something like you have to do it with a bowling ball, you know? It's a game show. It's a game show.

Can you do it with a bowling ball? And can you, can you do it on an uneven surface over a pool? It turns into wipeout. Jesus Christ. I studied the Philly airport map while on the plane, boarded a tram to get to my next gate. That's the other thing. I had to do that.

There was a fucking tram. Yeah, they had to connect terminals. to my next gate. That's the other thing. I had to do that. There was a fucking tram. Yeah, they had to connect terminals, not just walk down to the... It's not a counting down of numbers. No. And I'm sure she was so nervous about them knowing that she was under 14 that she didn't ask for help from anyone. You know what I mean? No, everyone is dangerous.

Yeah. If you're trying to trick people. But not really. But you hadn't scared her. It's kind of, you know, oh my god, parents. Okay. And made my way through the airport all by myself. I pretended to know exactly what I was doing and not one person stopped the tiny 10 year old girl carrying a bowling ball through the airport all alone. No. When I got to my gate, I was so pleased with myself. I cracked open a book and waited for my plane. That's what I noticed an older man staring at me. I kept telling myself that it was okay.

I was near the flight attendants manning the gate station, but this man would not stop staring at me. Mine and my dad's worst fears were coming true, but I managed to get on the plane and felt like I was home free. That's when this man sat in the aisle next to me. I pointedly ignored him and only looked at him in my peripheral vision for the next 10 to 15 minutes.

All of a sudden he leans over and says, Erica, is that you? Properly freaked out, I finally looked at him fully and realized I was looking at one of my dad's coworkers from the tower. He had been staring at me trying to figure out why my dad's kid was alone in the Philadelphia airport and was making sure I was 100% the kid he thought I was before talking to me. He was someone I'd actually met a few times and he kept me company when we arrived at Syracuse until my dad got there. I was like, I'm just going to have a seat here with you for the time.

That's a really good turn because oh my God. I can't imagine how scared my dad was that day This was definitely before cell phones and there was no way to check in with me as I waited for my next flight When we got in the car He took me to borders to bribe me with a couple CDs of my choice and later some ice cream and hopes that I wouldn't Tell my mom what happened. Yep that lasted about five minutes until he broke down and told her everything. And I got to keep my new Smash Mouth and Sugar Ray CDs. That's all the nineties. As a middle school teacher, I sometimes think of the story and wonder how my sixth graders

would fare in the same situation. I know I'd be terrified and they're not even my own kids. My dad has always said that airports are some of the safest places in the country and he still stands by that today. He better. I think that makes sense. He country. And he still stands by that today. He better. I think that makes sense. He better, yeah. Don't let that go.

I mean, what if he was like, actually, we've seen some pretty bad numbers. There's a lot of kidnappings in airports. You just did it, sir. You rolled those dice. You sure did. We're able to laugh at the situation now and marvel at the fact that one of my dad's coworkers

happened to be riding the same flight as his daughter was stuck on by herself. I'm still super proud of myself for being able to navigate that situation without completely freaking out. You should be. Hell yeah. And there is like this thing today about kids who like no kid is going to have that opportunity these days. Right. And there is that confidence of being alone that you get as a kid that you need as you grow older, right? A little too much sometimes for us back then. It can be too much. If you know when to pull the ripcord and run and basically like if she stayed there long enough and that guy continued to stare at her, she probably at this point would know if she already was sitting next to the people that worked at the gate. It's like go over behind the

gate. Totally. Or go tell someone. But at the same time, it's like, she got herself on that tram. She got herself from A to B or B to A. Nailed it with a bowling ball. Wait, there's a real love spark. It says, it closes. Anyway, stay sexy and maybe don't send your 10 year olds to airports by themselves sincerely. Erica, she, her, PS, my bowling ball cracked on the way home. Apparently they don't do well with the air pressure and you're supposed to package them a specific way. That means I liked a my bowling ball cracked on the way home. Apparently they don't do well with the air pressure

and you're supposed to package them a specific way. That means I liked a broken bowling ball all the way through that damn airport with my tiny arms for no reason. Grandma. Grandma. Grandma, we could have rented one. Ah, I know, right?

Erica, great job. Erica, amazing story. Grandma, that's why they have bowling alleys. So you don't have to bring your own. Exactly. That's the whole idea. Exactly. They're so heavy. But I also like, wait, I thought of one other thing. Oh, just as you were telling that story, I was like, before you gave the actual data that airports are safe, I was like, but actually people have to pay to be in airports. So you already have a kind of audience that had to pay to get there. Right. And I think everyone knows you're being filmed and watched the entire time

you're there. Like there's no- They have your name in every way. Right. The security is pretty tight. So it is pretty safe, I think. Hey guys, Georgia here. We are all so online these days. It can be hard to remember to take joy in the simple pleasures, like drinking a cold beverage on a hot day or hearing the sound of a new sale in your Shopify store.

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Here's my last D. The time that my mom didn't get hired at Radio Shack because she failed a lie detector test. And then it says in parentheses, trying this again two years later, which I interpret as in the most irritated font imaginable. Okay, it says hello to Paul Holes and memories of Steven's mustache.

And then in parentheses, it says TM, get it like the trademark symbol, but I'm too old to figure out how to put that into an email. Aw. Just explain it then. So I know you haven't asked for stories about Radio Shack, but I thought this was something you would be interested in. Definitely.

For sure. In about 1975, my mom applied for a job at Radio Shack. She was about 20 or 21. And for a job at Radio Shack. She was about 20 or 21. And at the time, Radio Shack required their potential employees to take a lie detector test, which seems odd to me, but hey, it was the 70s. My mom agreed to this thinking it would be easy as she was not a hardened criminal. As you know, you can only answer lie detector test questions with a yes or no answer. You can't give any explanations.

So they start the interview starting with basic questions, the usual, what is your name, how old are you, et cetera. And then they ask her if she's ever stolen anything. My mother's heart, my mother's heart rate increases greatly as she says, yes, she did steal some peanuts once. From who? Peanuts. An elephant. Yeah. Where'd you get a, you walked by a barrel of, an open barrel of peanuts and just stuck

your hand in? Listen, I was at the circus. I was coming back from the bathroom. There was a barrel full of peanuts. I was really drunk. Please forgive me. She silently panicked and ultimately answered no, which did show up as in fact being a lie.

Sure, peanuts. This paired with her being asked if she's ever done drugs she had indulged in the devil's lettuce from time to time caused her ultimately to fail the lie detector test. Oh my God. Needless to say, my mom did not get the job. She went on to have a wonderful 40 year career as an English teacher. So take that Radio Shack. Sending love to you both. Stay sexy and maybe don't lie about stealing peanuts when you're a child.

The signature is Kelsey from San Francisco. I love it. Wow. And then it says, PS, Karen, I was staying with my parents in Petaluma over the weekend and we went to Petaluma's famous butter and egg parade It says egg and butter parade, but i'm sorry to tell you it's the butter and eggs day parade butter first Yes always We all had the time of our lives and we couldn't decide on if the best part was a mini horse dressed like a cow

Pulling a person in a cart dressed like a chicken Or the tiny dog with an even tinier toy cowboy strapped to his back. Oh my God, take me there. Butter and Eggs Day is, I mean, it's been going on, I think since the late eighties, and it is the most classic small town parade. And I'm pretty sure I've told you this already, but when Nora was little, Nora loved a parade when she was little, it was like her favorite thing.

So my sister and my dad would take her to any and everything that was like big bands sit on the sidewalk, people marched by. It's like, that's Nora and her prime. That's adorable. But my dad would do this thing. I went once and he sits there and does running commentary and like criticism of the parade where he's like,

anyone can walk in this thing. I could get up right now and go just follow behind the 4-H club. She was talking shit on the side of a parade where he's like, anyone can walk in this thing. I could get up right now and go just follow behind the 4-H club. Like she was just talking shit on the side of a parade. That needs to be on a fucking TV show immediately. Pretty epic. Pretty epic. All right. Here's my last one. Okay. It's called my dog ran away and got a job photo included. Oh, hello, Karen, Georgia and everyone else. I've lost track of what you've asked for regarding hometown, so I'm assuming it's an everything-goes situation at this point. Correct.

My family has a small Australian shepherd named Monty. He's not particularly smart, but he's cute. Monty's the best fucking name for a dog. So good. Classic. So good. We like to say that he's too dumb to live, too hot to die, kind of a himbo of a dog. So good. Classic. We like to say that he's too dumb to live, too hot to die, kind of a himbo of a dog.

I love that like him being stupid and pretty is like part of the family conversation. Of course. Yeah, he's a member of the family and he has a personality and a lifestyle just like everybody else. Here's what he's like. One day, Monty was hanging out with my dad in the garage

with the door open, and my mother turns on the built-in vacuum cleaner in the house. Ooh. Fancy. The actual mechanism for the section is in the garage, and the sudden loud noise spooked him and he bolted. My father, probably underneath a vehicle at the time, didn't notice until Monty was long gone.

The garage backs out into an alley with homes and some businesses, and after running up and down it of time didn't notice until Monty was long gone. The garage backs out into an alley with homes and some businesses. And after running up and down it while calling his name, my father proceeded to knock on some doors to check backyards and such. Eventually, he got to the dental clinic right across the alley from our house.

When he walked inside to ask if they'd seen a loose dog, the staff immediately stated that, yes, they had seen a dog. It would have been hard to miss a dog running through their side door, down the hallways, and jumping right into the lap of a patient in a chair waiting to see the dentist. Oh, good boy.

A dream come true. You know, right? You're just sitting there nervous about getting your teeth done, and then this fucking gorgeous, stupid dog jumps in your lap. Thank you. Yes, God. God.

My dad apologized as they went and retrieved Monty from the back, but apparently it was no problem. The staff and the patients were all cooing and cuddling with Monty before attempting to contact the owner and were loving his presence. They asked my father to drop Monty off whenever he wanted so that he could visit and help with any patients who had anxiety. Aw. Now, a couple times a week, we will just walk Monty over, open the side door and

drop him off for his quote shift at the dentist office. You're crying already. I love it. I absolutely love your podcast and all that you do. And I've included a picture of Monty in a dentist chair because I know you'd appreciate it. Stay sexy and don't turn down a dog job, Georgia and my mother, Karen. What? Oh my God. Let's see that picture. We'll put both of these pictures of the ring and the dog

on our Instagram account. So make sure to check that out if you feel like it. Yeah. And that's our personal Instagram accounts. We're just posting other people's pictures like they're our own. Oh, I knew he looked like that. Ah!

He's a poofy little thing. He's so cute. He looks like he looked like that. He's a poopy little thing. He's so cute. He looks like he's like a long hair, colly-ish Australian shepherdish. But small. Oh, you little guy. He's so sweet.

He could just be right on, he would take up your whole lap. Yeah, but not too much. It wouldn't be comical. It'd just be just enough to make you feel calmer when you're getting your fricking teeth done. So Monty basically heard a loud noise, got freaked out, whatever, and then was like, I'm nervous, now I'm gonna go find my people.

Yeah. And we can all help each other not be scared. Oh my God, he was like, I'm gonna find someone else who's nervous and we can help each other. And he's like, jump. Whoever he, whoever laugh he jumped into has to be like the luckiest person on

the planet. Like I hope they know they're blessed. Hashtag blessed. Like there's something special about them. I hope they know they're blessed. I hope we all know we're blessed. I mean, yeah, you would feel super. Yes.

That's like a, we were at dinner one night and a little girl came up to the window next to the table where we were sitting inside. They were outside and she came up and stuck her foot on the window sill and goes, do you like my shoes? Oh my God. I was like, yes. Yeah. When children and animals like you, it's like, fuck yeah.

Something's right with your vibes. Finally, something's right with my vibes. Hey, write us your stories. My favorite murder of Gmail. Yeah. Tell us about my vibes. Hey, write us your stories and my favorite murderous Gmail. Yeah, tell us about your vibes. Yeah, we want to hear about your vibes. Tell us vibe stories, like vibe check stories, right? Where you're like, I knew this person sucked or I knew they were amazing

or someone knew your vibes were good or whatever it is, vibe stories. Right. Yeah. Try to keep it positive in these in these trying times. And also stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie? in these trying times. Sure. And also, stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye! Goodbye! Elvis, do you want a cookie? Mwah! our editors, Aristotle Acevedo. This episode was mixed by Liana Scolacci.

Email your hometowns to MyFavoriteMurder at gmail.com. And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at My Favorite Murder and on Twitter at MyFaveMurder. Goodbye.