Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 274 - The Ken and Barbie Killers

Episode Date: December 13, 2021

In early 1992, young married couple Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka seemed to have a lot going for them. They'd just gotten married, Paul was making good money, and they were living in a nice house in scenic Port  Dalhousie, Ontario. But they were harboring some real, real dark secrets. Paul was the Scarborough rapist - authorities had been looking for the man that raped over a dozen women going back at least five years. And together, the pair had now raped and killed at least two women. And their first truly horrific crime together involved Karla's fifteen-year-old sister Tammy. How did they get to such a disturbing place? Find out on this week's true crime episode of Timesuck!  The 2021 Bad Magic (Virtual) Gathering. Sunday, December 19th, 6PM - and it's free! https://www.scener.com/AChristmasStoryWatch the Suck on YouTube:  https://youtu.be/MTB4wN4CxKIMerch - https://badmagicmerch.com/  Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89vWant to join the Cult of the Curious private Facebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" in order to locate whatever current page hasn't been put in FB Jail :)For all merch related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste)Please rate and subscribe on iTunes and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcastWanna become a Space Lizard? We're over 10,000 strong! Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcastSign up through Patreon and for $5 a month you get to listen to the Secret Suck, which will drop Thursdays at Noon, PST. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. You get to vote on two Monday topics each month via the app. And you get the download link for my new comedy album, Feel the Heat. Check the Patreon posts to find out how to download the new album and take advantage of other benefits. 

In the summer of 1987, two teenage girls walked down from their room and into a Toronto hotel restaurant late one night and started talking to a pair of young men. Based on the kind of stories we've told here before, I guess you might be thinking right now that these girls are about to become these men's victims, or that they would narrowly escape a horrific brush with death. Nope, not today. Not even close. One of these teen girls would soon prove to be just as monstrous as the monster she was meeting. When future monster, Carla Hamolka, 17 met current monster, Paul Bernardo, 23, sparks would fly, the worst kind of sparks.

Paul and Carla shared an immediate attraction, one which only intensified twisted past perversions into grotesque sexual assaults when Paul discovered that, unlike the other girls he had dated, Carla shared the same sick fantasies he did. Or at the very least, she would end up enthusiastically aiding an indulgent in Paul's fantasies and make them her own. This pair would evolve from having rough BDSM-like sex to assaulting women together,

to murdering and disposing of two young girls, Leslie Mahafi and Kristen French, and neither of them were the first girl who died at their hands. And this all happened in the space of about five years. From the outside, this young couple seemed like a parent's dream come true. Carla was a beautiful blonde who worked at a veterinarian's office after graduating high school, where she'd scored solid grades with no discipline problems. Paul was a tall and handsome accountant, fresh out of college, who often took friends

out to lavish dinners and dressed the nines almost every day in expensive custom suits. But those descriptions don't tell the story of who these two really were. Just to brave pair were secretly in a stato-masochistic, abusive, and highly sexually charged relationship in which Paul was the master and Carla was his seemingly all too willing slave. Before enduring their relationship, Paul Bernardo was also brutally raping girls in Scarborough, a burrow of Toronto, and when Carla found out, he did absolutely nothing about it. Three years into their relationship, Paul was complaining about feeling sexually bored. Again, this was a complaint he'd been making from the very beginning of their relationship. He was constantly pressuring Carla to take

their sexual life into a darker and darker place. And now his sexual attention was fixated obsessively on Carla's 15-year-old sister Tammy. Far from being outraged at Bernardo's desires, Carla once again encouraged them. She told Paul that she wanted him to have her little sisters virginity for a Christmas present. You heard that right. She delivered her own teenage sister to a man she knew was a sexually sadistic monster. The sexual games they're playing had now truly gotten dangerous and they will only get more dangerous, distribute and violent over the next year and a half.

Today we explore the insane and heinous misdeeds of Carla Humoka and Paul Bernardo on a true crime, American Psycho inspired. It still shocks me how bad two people can be addition of Time Suck. This is Michael McDonald and you're listening to Time Suck. You listening to Time Suck? Happy Monday. Welcome to the cult of the curious get in here.

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My last weekend is shows of the year before I start off again in late January. Added another Saturday show. Should be some tickets left for that one now. They seem to be going pretty fast. So that's exciting. And now back to the world of true crime with another story of two incredibly fucked up individuals whose lives will intertwine into a some greater than as far as worse than as parts.

It's gonna be terrible. A sexually sadistic couple who kills together. We've been here before with notorious English dirt bags, Fred and Rosemary West. And like with the West, some of the same questions come up. What are the odds of you finding someone who will agree to love and cherish you forever, who will also agree to murder others with you? What are the odds that you, some with sexual urges

that fall just a bit outside of mainstream? We'll find someone who not only loves you romantically and is interesting and indulging your extreme sexual desires, but who's also willing to hurt other people with you. And even if you don't want to rape and murder, like your spouse does, like Carla will claim after Paul's arrest, how could you stand by someone like that for years without going to the police? This episode brings back these questions in a big way, especially because by the time

Carla Homoka and Paul Bernardo met met Paul had already started his reign of terror as the Scarborough rapist, the five year period during which he'd rape over a dozen women, just like Fred West. He was already a sexually violent man by the time he'd meet Rose, you know, Paul Bernardo established sexual assaultor by the time he'd meet Carla. Like Fred would pull Rose into his house to horse without the amount of resistance, one might expect Paul would do the same with Carla. such a rare thing to end up in a murder team.

So rare just to be a serial killer, according to FBI stats, at least in the US, only 0.006% of the population are thought to be serial killers. Just three out of every half a million people or one in every 166,667. Which actually seemed kind of high on me. So much rarer to become part of a serial killing couple. According to Eric W. Hickey, a forensic psychologist, author of serial murderers and their victims, around a fifth of serial killers, working some sort of team. So now just three and 2.5 million or one in every 833,334. And that number

does not reflect romantically linked serial killing teams. It includes dirt bags we've covered before like William Bonham, the freeway killer, old Billy gutter balls and his various accomplices. And includes those dirt bags, Leonard Lake and Charles Inng. It includes Andre Chikotilo and Albert Fish. You raps with those bare cats and bimbles Andre and I'll take care of the peanut butter. You'll do the stubborn, they'll do the grabbing Albert. That's how they do it in Russia. That's his showbiz. Okay, maybe those last two didn't work together or operate at the same time or even in the

same country thank God. But others I mentioned are real. Otis tool, Henry Lee Lucas, another team. I can't find anyone's analysis regarding how many serial killing teams are romantically linked, but looking around myself, I'll say confidently, it can't be anywhere close to half. So less than three in five million, less than one in one million, six hundred and sixty six thousand, six hundred and sixty seven people will be a serial killer killing with somebody.

They're also fucking probably a lot less than that. Even, you know, maybe five, one of five million. I don't know, one in 10, 20, 30 million. So let's talk about two people, right? That scenario would be like one couple out of every 60 million people. I don't know the actual number, but I can say confidently. It's so very rare. So you probably don't have to worry about dating a murderer or dating a potential murderer

entertaining deadly urges Who is then going to try and successfully pull you into their disgusting world Convinced you to abandon your morals and join the darkest side But that did happen to Carla Hamulka. She met one of these monsters Right, she beat those odds and when she found out who this monster was she was seemingly Totally cool with it and she ended up helping indul adult Paul and committing some of the most disgusting sexual acts possible. She'd offer in what has to be one of the sickest sort of attempts to keep your partner

sexually interested and keep them from leaving you, her own sister's virginity is a fucking Christmas present. That offering would lead to more horror than sibling rape. Before we get to know Paul and Carla in today's time-sack timeline, beginning with their births, let's first jump ahead and talk quickly about how this pair came to be murderous maniacs. Let's prime ourselves for what's to come. Though I've just compared them to Fred and Rosemary, West, Paul and Carla would not have the incest and abuse horror-filled shit show kind of childhoods that Fred and Rosemary had. No bragging about rapes, no sexual assault by parental figures, at least none that we know of. And I do feel like these two would have blamed

what they did on childhood abuse. If it had happened, Paul's dead, definitely a huge fucking creep, his mom psychologically abusive, but not less level to pravity. Paul's father was arrested from a molestation in 1975 when Paul was 10 or 11 fondly into girl whose age never revealed by the court as far as i can tell uh... there were rumors that he'd also molested paul's older sister deby uh... no evidence he ever molested paul it seemed like his son uh... would be later he was only sexually interested in girls could there uh... been a genetic link between paul and his dad that predisposed both men

towards pedophilia absolutely not in this case because kenn Kenneth was not Paul's biological father. A fact he would be told when he was 16. Did that revelation, coupled with learning that the man he thought was his dad, was molesting girls, perhaps push Paul down a path towards becoming a sexually sadistic monster? Maybe. But how much it pushed him as hard to tell. There are strange similarities. Paul was engaged in deviant sexually voyeuristic behavior while the man he thought was his father

was as well. Not sure how much he knew about his dad's dirty deeds though, at least at that time. He'd started on his own deviant path before his dad's molestation arrest. Did he know what was going on with the sister? Maybe, I guess, but we don't even know for sure that his sister was being molested. Just rumors that came out in interviews and in books after Paul and Carlos murder trial was covered intensely by Canadian media outlets. Perhaps the combo of Paul's mom telling him that he wasn't truly his father's son, that he was the product of an affair, combined with growing up in the stigma of people knowing your dad was a pedophileophile came together to push Paul's

voyeuristic tendencies and to something far more brutal than what would have happened in a more functional home Who the hell knows? All of this of course is just speculation with any one of these given killers We just never know how much nature and how much nurture have combined to create their monster Even when they confess they tend to lie so goddamn much it's hard to accept much what they say is truth. Based on what I know of Paul's childhood, I feel like he started going down a very deviant sexual path at an early age, maybe randomly. Unfortunately, no one caught him early on in intervene. He was never put in therapy that maybe probably would have helped him. Maybe, I don't know, I say probably maybe. Sometimes I do think these monsters are mostly born and I have doubts as to therapy curing

them in extreme cases. We're all born a little bit different, right? Some of us born with a skill set and temperament that tilts us towards being some kind of leader or some kind of artist, a nurturer, athlete, teacher, random weirdo, etc. Some of us, unfortunately, born with a combo that tilts us towards sexual sadism and serial killing. And then when no one catches someone of that ilk before they cross lines regarding sexual torture and murder and they feel that dark rush that only those experiences can I imagine

give them. Now their heroine is inflicting horror. Just like we learned a few weeks ago, a relapse here and there, almost inevitable. If you don't get the right kind of treatment for opioid addiction, rape and murder relapse seems inevitable for these walking flesh demons unless they can get the proper treatment. Well, and actually, once they've crossed certain lines, I don't know if there isn't a treatment, they can save them. Unfortunately, for society in our present day, based on criminal recidivism rates, no treatment

seems to currently exist to cure monsters of being monsters. Now when they go that far, switching gears to Carlin now, why did she become a monster? I don't think she would have ever become the monster she did had she not met Paul Bernardo or the equivalent. On her own, I don't think she ever goes full evil. Those dark urges seem to be much more dormant in her based on who she was before she met Paul. He had to work hard to activate them. But once activated, my own my, what a willing participant she'd become before Paul, Carla seemed to have a perfectly idyllic childhood. She had siblings, comfortable house in the Canadian city of St. Catherine's around 400,000 folk in the metro area living on the Canadian side

of Niagara Falls. Only around 25 kilometers or 15 miles or so from the falls in the province of Ontario. Growing up in St. Catherine, she seemed to be popular amongst her childhood friends. She did show some tendencies towards the dark side before ever meeting Paul, but nothing I'd call abnormal. She began dressing like a goth, writing dark poetry, seemed to think constantly about death and destruction around the time she met him, but you know, she's fucking teenager. I think her behavior at that time can be seen as normal, you know, fleeting teenage phase.

When Carla met Paul in the summer of 1987, she certainly didn't seem destined to engage in any kind of evil acts. So how did she become so incredibly fucked up? No, plenty of people date and or marry perverse monsters without ever becoming one themselves, but not Carla. At the time she graduated high school and moved into a big house in the St. Catherine suburb of Port, Port, Duluthy, an idyllic seaside community on the shores of Lake Ontario. So you already committed some unspeakably evil acts, probably seemed to have activated

something horrible, buried deep inside her. The disgusting and shocking acts that two committed were dreamt up by Paul, definitely the driving force behind their violent deeds. Like another Canadian murder slash douchebag we covered, Mark Mitchell, Twitchell, Paul deadly innocence Bernardo, that nickname will be explained later. He would get his inspiration for his crimes from a piece of pop culture, but instead of Dexter, it would be the bread Easton Ellis novel American psycho. According to many, Paul read American psycho quote, like his Bible. And if you're familiar with this piece of literature and or film, you know that that is not a

good thing. Like a really, really bad thing. Paul had already killed by the time he read it. He had already committed so many rapes. American psycho did not turn a regular dude into a rapist and murder not at all. But the book did speak to him and did seem to push him into a further levels of sexual violence, used as inspiration to hone his sadistic craft and flicked more torture on his victims while presenting the image of a good looking clean cut organized go getter to the outside

world. American psycho is published in 1991 tells a story of Patrick Bateman, a seemingly soft spoken boy next door type investment banker in 1980s Manhattan. When Wall Street was experiencing a major boom and new millionaires were being made on a daily basis against the cultural backdrop of a materialistic and image driven society, Bateman murders young women and when others around him start to catch on his acquaintances as well. The book and the subsequent movies starring Christian Baal, a fucking fantastic movie in my Bateman murders young women and when others around him start to catch on his acquaintances as well.

The book and the subsequent movie starring Christian Bale, a fucking fantastic movie in my opinion, will be criticized for a sport trail of graphic violence. And it is super violent. But critics also praise both the book and movie heavily for the story's depiction of 1980s materialism and his postmodernist style. Let me share a few excerpts. Get a, get a feel for the story that Paul loves so much. Bateman spends about as much time murder

and as he does analyzing 1980 pop music artists, showing the shallow and vicious aspects of the culture in which he lives, where a human life and experiences are something to be consumed instead of appreciated. If you've seen the movie, you probably remember the famous business card scene. That's so good. Or Patrick Bateman speaks about Huey Lewis in the news,

right, as he prepares to murder his coworker with an axe. Jared Leto, play a man named Paul. You like Huey Lewis in the news? The early work was a little too new way for my taste. But when sports came out in 82, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound,

and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has far more bitter cynical sense of humor. In 87 Huey released this, four, they're most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is hip to be square. A song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics, but they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity and the importance of trends.

It's also a personal statement about the band itself. Hey, Paul and then Patrick swings a fucking axe and obliterates Paul. He keeps swinging it while screaming insults about how vapid and idiotic he is. It's a crazy, crazy, very memorable scene. Disturbing also showed the acting chops of a young Christian bailholy shit and also how good, but you will lose in the news. It's hip to be square. It's hip to be square.

I always think of American Psycho now, that song. While scenes like this were critiqued, again, you know, for being too violent by sound, the book Waymore Violin, actually, featured Waymore Violin in the movie did. Much more detailed and sexual. Take this following excerpt far too dark and fucked up to lighten up with some Huey Lewis. So might as well lean into the darkness here. The following wall fictional described as with the sound I'm going to use behind it. The following wall fictional described a toy box level of sexual torture imagery.

If you want to skip ahead a few minutes until you can no longer hear the music. I mean, this is brutal shit, but worth sharing, excuse me, narrative-wise because it provides valuable insight into what Paul would likely do to a few young women whose lives he likely ended or at least very, at the very least helped end insight into tragic moments in the lives

than many women he'd rape as well. And more importantly, this is the kind of shit that Carla will later go along with, which is why there will be so much public outcry over the very lenient punishment she will receive. So here we go, skip ahead again. If graphic sexual violence is too much, you cannot unhear this shit.

She's tied to the floor, naked on her back, much you cannot unhear this shit. She's tied to the floor, naked, on her back, both feet, both hands tying to make stiff posts that are connected to boards, which are weighted down with metal. The hands are shawtful of nails and her legs are spread as wide as possible. A pillow props are asked up, and cheese, Bree, has been smeared across her open cunt. Some of it even pushed up into the vaginal cavity. I try using the power drill on her, forcing it into her mouth,

but she's conscious enough, has strength to close her teeth, clamping them down, and even though the drill goes through the teeth quickly, it fails to interest me. So I hold her head up, blood dribbling from her mouth, and make her watch the rest of the tape. And while she's looking at the girl in the screen bleed from almost every possible orifice, I'm hoping she realizes this would have happened to her, no matter

what. As she would have ended up lying here on the floor in my apartment, hands nailed to posts, cheese and broken glass pushed up into her cut, or had cracked and bleeding purple, no matter what other choice she might have made. I'm trying to ease one of the hollow plastic tubes from the dismantled habitat trail system up into her vagina, forcing the vaginal lips around one end of it, and even with most of it greased with olive oil, it's not fitting in properly. During this, the jupebox plays Frankie Valley, singing the worst that could happen, and I'm

grimly lip-syncing to it while pushing the habitrail-true tube up into this bitch's cut. I finally have to resort to pouring acid around the outside of the pussy so that the flesh can give way to the greased end of the habitrail and student up its slides in easily. I hope this hurts you, I say. The rat hurls itself against the glass cage that I move from the kitchen into the living room. It refused to eat what was left of the other rat I'd brought to play with last week.

That now lies dead, rotting in the corner of the cage. For the last five days I've purposely starved it. I set the glass cage down next to the girl and maybe because of the scent of the cheese, the rat seems to go insane. First running in circles, muleing, then trying to heave its body weak with hunger over the side of the cage. The rat doesn't need prodding and the bent coat hanger I was going to use remains untouched by my side.

And with the girl still conscious, the thing moves effortlessly on newfound energy, racing up the tube, until half of its body disappears, and then after a minute, its rat body shaking while it feeds, all of it vanishes, except for the tail. And I yank to have a trail tube out of the girl trapping the rodent. Soon even the tail disappears, the noises the girl is making are for the most part

incomprehensible. Holy shit, fucking brutal, again fiction, but fiction that he would love Paul Bernardo would be inspired by this shit. He would not be disgusted by it. He would use it as a blueprint of sorts for what he wanted to do to future victims. It was his favorite fucking book. Maybe that was his favorite passage. Another fucked up book that Bernardo loved was Perfect Victim, the true story of the girl in the box written by Christine McGuire, the true story of how an American man 24-year-old

Cameron Hooker kidnapped a hitchhiker 20-year-old Colleen Stan then trained her to be his sex slave putting her in a small wooden box that left her very little room to move at first for 23 hours a day. Hooker kept this woman as his prisoner and as a sex slave for he and his young wife Janice for seven years before authorities finally arrested them. She became so brainwashed by Cameron that she was eventually given more and more time outside the box. At one point, her captors even let her leave the house to get a job knowing she'd return

home with the end of the day, where she'd be physically and sexually abused. She was brainwashed into believing that an organization called the company would painfully torture her and harm her family if she ever tried to escape. Of course, that organization does not exist. And she believed that a girl had been held prisoner before her and killed. She was terrified. Her captivity in torture lasted from 1977 to 1924 took place in Red Bluff, California, sleepy little lumber town of about 14,000 northern California after winning enough freedom to even visit her family at one point. She put back in the box 23 hours a day for the last three years of her captivity.

When Cameron started to worry she'd been given too much freedom and would escape. Cameron hooker now 68 still incarcerated as of reading or as of this recording, excuse me, but is eligible for parole now? Fucking gross. Rested back in November of 1984. If you ever get out, I truly hope somebody kills him. I hope somebody puts him in a little box first to live out the rest of his days. Janice Huckert testified against her husband in exchange for complete prosecutorial,

God, that word, prosecutorial, prosecutor, prosecutorial immunity. There we go. Even though she participated in numerous sexual assaults on Colleen Even though she helped kidnapper she was never charged with anything and after the trial went on to raise two daughters in relative anonymity quite the plea deal Sexism likely helped her here. I think I have a hard time believing a dude would get that deal in those circumstances I'll talk about how sexism statistically has helped criminals like Janice and like Carla homoka here in just a bit.

According to the Chico News and Review, Janice was working as a social worker in California as recently as 2010. Wonder how many co-workers and clients knew what the fuck she did. 64 now, Colleen Stan's life has been rocky ever since her imprisonment. Of course it has. How could it not be? As reported in March 9, 2014, New York Daily News article, she tried to move on to a normal life,

but misery followed her, a string of failed marriages and a troubled child now in jail. I hope she is happy somewhere today. She must have had a lot of inner strength to endure what she endured. Anyway, this incredibly tragic true story and the book written about it, provided a blueprint of sorts for Paul as well. He didn't find Collins torture sad, turned him the fuck on. He loved this story.

Made him realize that a sick dream of his was truly possible to share a life with someone who would let him sleep with other women, women he was raping, women his wife would help him rape, and also sexually assault herself. So again, what was Carlos' motivation to do what she did? assault herself. So again, what was Carlos motivation to do what she did? This is a little outside the box, a little unexpected, but apparently, according to a couple of true crime experts, Almanrocas, their favorite sweets, easily, Almanrocas. And Paul happened to have mastered an old family recipe before he'd met her. And his Almanrocas, you know, he, uh, which he baked some of, uh, some of them early in their relationship in their courtship. Uh, the best she'd ever tasted by miles. And if she wanted another batch, you'd have to participate in Paul's twisted sexual

games. At first, she stalled, hoping for a chance to steal the recipe that he's so carefully guarded and manned. He ever carefully guard this every evening. And for using the bathroom before bed, Paul would place a small scrap of paper that had the recipe on it. His grandma wrote down decades earlier in a fresh, fresh plastic sandwich bag. He shoved that bag up his ass, retrieving it the following day from his morning regular bowel movement.

Finally one night, Carla drug Paul right before bed, fished the bag out of his ass. Tragically, she'd waited too long when she read the note. All of it said was no dice, bitch. I memorized that shit. No new pussy, no more almond roca. I wish that were true for storytelling purposes. No, can you imagine what is insane detail that would be all for the roca, all the horror committed thanks to not being able to get a recipe hidden in a serial killer's ass. No, of course not. Almond roca really is delicious by the way though.

That's my grandma Betty's favorite candy. Chocolate covered almond butter, crunch, heart toffee with a coating of almond, ground almonds, excuse me. Really, what was Carla's motivation? That was insane. Though it may be tempting to see Carla as Paul's unwitting accomplice, given all of Paul's sadistic tendencies, a battered woman doing whatever Paul wanted out of fear, a desperate attempt to convince him to lover. There's a lot of evidence to suggest that Carla not only went along with the violent attacks, but enjoyed them herself. Tapes would come out during the trial that would show her actively participating in sexual assaults. Some that ended in murders.

She played a part in horrific rapes and murders for a couple of years. She'd never once went to the police or sought help until Paul was cornered by law enforcement and it was time to sell him out or go down with his sinking ship. What she would not be punished like her husband was because like Janice Hooker, she'd be offered a very generous plea deal. Part of the reason she was given it was because when she made it, the court hadn't seen the tapes of the assaults. That she was in the crown was then legally obligated to stand by the deal they made despite this new evidence after they made it. But even if they had seen those tapes, would she have received the same sense her husband did, it is doubtful. When it comes to sexually

violent crimes, women tend to receive much lighter sentences than men. Why is that? Is it because of unconscious biases towards men, you know, concern that men are more likely to commit these crimes again because men are, you know, more criminally, criminally minded than women? Women, you know, have lower, lower arrest rates than males, for virtually all crime categories, except prostitution.

This is true in all countries for which data is available, true for all racial and ethnic groups and for every historical period. It's crazy. The U.S. women constitute less than 20% of arrests for most crime categories. Women are less likely to commit violent crimes based on the self-reports of victims of violence. Women account for only 14% of violent offenders. But then when they do commit crimes, especially violent crimes, does not appear that they often are properly punished, at least not compared to male counterparts.

Odd example of sexism, I touched on earlier. Sometimes it seems like sexism has advantages. I'm now thinking irrational, sane person would argue against women historically, have been consistently discriminated against and treated unfairly in the workplace, respected governmental rights, cultural expectations, their sexual chastity, valued above anything else for centuries, reducing them to the value of sexual cattle, et cetera, et cetera. But there's at least one place where women have historically benefited from being viewed as the fair and the weaker sex and that's crime and punishment.

An analysis of years worth of criminal justice stats in the US found that female defendants are about 20% more likely than male defendants to have their principal initial charge either dropped or greatly reduced. Female defendants are a lot less likely to receive a prison sentence than male defendants, incarceration rate for male defendants, 44.83% or female defendants, 30.94%. Male defendants are also about 44% more likely than female defendants to be incarcerated overall. Why is this?

Is it because women are more likely to be seen as the victim than men within the criminal justice system? Most of the victims of the heinous crimes we've talked about here in times like have been women, all of today's victims will be women. And Canada women, 106 incidents per 1,000 women were violently victimized at a rate nearly double that of men, 59 incidents per 1,000 men in 2019. This gender difference is a result of the fact that women, five times more likely than men to be a victim of sexual assault, 50 versus 9 per 1,000.

Interestingly, the gender gap in the U.S. for violent crime has been decreasing recently, so yeah, equality, I guess. In the U.S. in 2019, the number of male and female violent crime victims was about even, with about 1,579,000 male victims and 1,479,000 female victims. This closing of the gender gap seems to be due to so many gang-related murder victims being male. But as we've talked about before, when it comes to sexually violent crimes, like the crimes we're covering today, victims far more often women than men in the US and everywhere

else. One in five women compared to one in 71 men will be raped at some point in their lives according to one 2011 study. I bring in all these stats to say that maybe in addition to not having seen those tapes, the Canadian criminal justice system was reluctant to view Carla Homolka as a savage participant in sexually violent crimes because those aren't crimes associated with women, not as being perpetrators anyway. Women tend to be the victim of those kinds of crimes and Carla was for sure victimized by Paul.

And then she also for sure really played up being the victim for law enforcement and prosecutors. All right. Now with a decent feel for where we're heading, but exactly how we get there still to be explored. Let's get into this week's Time Suck timeline. Right after a word from this week's sponsors. Thank you for listening to those sponsors. I truly hope some deals resonated with you. You're able to use our landing pages and codes,

you get some sweet, sweet savings. Time Suck timeline now free to engage. Shrap on those boots soldier, we're marching down a time suck timeline. On August 27th 1964, Paul Bernardo, born in Scarborough, Ontario, Canada. A suburb or, I guess, burrow rather of Toronto, excuse me, comparing the New York City of Canada to the New York City of New York, never been to Toronto, but I've heard that comparison before. Toronto is apparently the most urban city in Canada, and according to some bloggers, the

burrow of Scarborough, a bit like the Bronx and a bit like Queen's, with the Western edge of it having a little more of a broken feel so uh... so i guess it's really nothing like new york sorry that comparison was a complete waste of fucking time toronto is its own thing and scarborough is supposed to be the most diverse part of toronto prime destination for immigrants ever since world war two and developing a uh... a bit later than some other older parts of the city the

greenest part of toronto with even a few farms left on the edges uh... part of a big city tronto the most popular city in canada by quite a bit over two point seven million million more than second place uh... one point seven million for Montreal and over six point four million in the tronto metro area a lot of people for rapist and murder to hunt a lot of suspects

for uh... you know uh... police to have to to look over once lot of suspects for a, you know, police to have to look over once they start looking for a rapist or murder. Paul's parents were Kenneth and Marilyn Bernardo. Or at least he thought both of them were his parents for most of his childhood, but Marilyn, not his mom. He actually does not have a mom. He is a rare but baby. Born with his dad is alien, pregnant by traveling vacuum salesman. No, Maryland is his mom is that yeah, I said earlier, Paul will learn at the age of 16 that Kenneth is not his real dad. He's born.

Paul was the third of what was only to be three kids, the baby of the family. He had a brother, three years older, David and a sister, two years older, Debbie. The Bernardo's were a financially well off family due to Kenneth Steadie accountant job. By the time baby boy Paul is born, you know middle class, maybe on the edge of upper middle class, they'd struggled a bit financially before his birth as young couples often do. They'd started dating when Maryland was in high school. They'd met through their parents who were friends neighbors. Maryland's parents thought Kenneth would be a good provider for Maryland. And then actually pressured her to break things off with her high school sweetheart who she loved.

This guy didn't have a good career plan, I guess. Pressure her to break things off and date Kennith, which she then did. Not often doesn't end well, does it? Marrying someone just to make mommy and daddy happy. Maryland's later affair, starting to make some sense here. Kennith was a sharp dresser, well spoken, very clean cut and polite, had a fresh degree in business, starting a career in the steady field of accounting. He was good at it. A parent, so this guy will take care of your dear dream. Year after Paul's birth was some financial help

from their parents. Marilyn and Ken bought their first home, a new house on Surreyman Drive, in a spacious subdivision of Scarborough in an area known as the Guildwood. Ooh, you're living in the Guildwood. Ken was doing well at work, drove a nice new car. Within a few years, he would drive a nicer new company car. Each day, Ken went back and forth to work dressed impeccably. Pinsdrip wool suit, pressed shirt, dapper tie, black leather shoes, shined brightly, not even a hair out of place. Can't even dress in walking shorts and a dress shirt to cut his fucking lawn.

Living the Canadian dream, everything nice and tidy, everything on the up and up. Sharp suits, doubt cup of Timmy's coffee to start the morning. Apparently old Kenneth was the end of a lot of other wives in the neighborhood when he first moved in. He's a little fucking weird later. We'll get there. To those who knew Marilyn well enough, she was evidently quite the gossip and prone to oversharing big TMI person apparently.

And she tell friends that her handsome, well-dressed husband was a lousy lay. Seriously, so that's fun. She never found out about that or had that thrown in his face, not even a little bit of masculating. Marilyn told her friends that anything can't have new and bad, well, she taught him. And they didn't have much of a libido. Apparently, you know, talk about, or he would apparently talk about to her how people shouldn't live their lives ruled by lust. It sound like, at least in her opinion, he's sexually rigid, but he did have a sex drive. I think a pretty strong one. He just

didn't have one for her. He had one that he might have been keeping secret around this time because it was not appropriate in a variety of ways. He had one for teenage girls, perhaps even his own daughter. Paul seems to have come from proud, hardworking, hardworking folk on both side of the tree. His paternal grandfather, Candace Dad, immigrant laborer named Frank Bernardo, would come into Canada in the 1920s from his native Portugal. It made his mark in his new country lane, Tarazo, in Marble and Rich People's Homes, and Kitchener Waterloo, the twin Ontario cities,

107 kilometers, just over 66 miles west of Toronto. Really pop in place to, according to a couple travel videos, I got sucked into. If you wanna get a house in Kitchener Waterloo, better act fast, because they're moving up. Both Marilyn and Kenneth grew up there before moving to Scarborough. Paul's mother's family established upper middle class people.

That may be upper class, not even upper middle class. She was an Eastman. The Eastman's apparently part of the upper crust at one time in Kitchener Waterloo. The sentence of the United Empire of some of some United Empire loyalists, a family of British stock whose roots in Canada dated all the way back to the colonial days. Maryland's father, Lieutenant Colonel Gerald Eastman, had been a hero of the Second World

War, a major who had distinguished himself in the Italian campaign. After the war, he resumed his law career, one of the city's most prestigious firms. He was active in the community, holding posts on the board of education and the Chamber of Commerce, becoming a founding member and director of the city's most prestigious firms. It was active in the community holding posts on the board of education and the Chamber of Commerce. Becoming a founding member and director of the city's art gallery. And a past president of the local bar association. And the children of these two families fell in love. And yeah, 1957, wow, I don't know about fell in love. They agreed to get married.

Now let's jump ahead and refocus on Paul. The time fall was five years old, 1969. He still hadn't spoken more than a couple words. Mostly, according to one source, he grunted. So maybe this dude had some atypical brain stuff going on. Maybe that can help explain how he becomes a fucking evil. A lot of those dudes do have brain props. Dr. said Paul was suffering from a form of aphasia,

a loss of the ability to understand or express speech caused by some kind of brain damage. He got his brain damage. It doesn't sound like the extent was fully ever determined. When he'd gotten the imbiblical cord wrapped around his neck and suffered a lack of oxygen to his brain during birth. For how long his brain was deprived of oxygen, not written anywhere.

Once he gets into school later on, he does seem to do just fine. And despite all this, the family doctor did not seem worried about this when he was a young kid. Confident he would catch up with the spirits, which you know he would. Paul, not the only Bernardo with problems around this time, and the years following Paul's birth, Marilyn, sounds like she got pretty depressed. Start to put on a lot of extra weight, hygiene, not great. She described in various settings, shown up a different places is look a look a little greasy

while her husband dressed impeccably. Sources say she was a fucking slop. Baggy T-shirt sweats all the time. Didn't look like she took a lot of showers. Didn't look like she combed her hair. You know, like if she would have had crocs back then, she'd be wearing fucking crocs every day. She may have been depressed because her affair with Paul's real dad had ended. And who was he? She may have been depressed because her affair with Paul's real dad had ended. Who was he? Her old high school sweetheart. He'd stayed back in Kitchener Waterloo and they'd run into each other early in Kenneth and Marilyn's marriage when she would head home to visit her folks.

And the guy who wasn't going anywhere was suddenly going somewhere. Her parents were wrong about him. He got into some kind of business for himself. And by the time she'd had Paul's older brother and sister, he was fucking killing the game. And on his way to becoming a wealthy man, damn it. She'd taken the safe bet and it had backfired. Right, a fuckter. If she'd just chosen love, that love would have brought even more security

than the security she had left love for. Ain't that a bitch? Unless who you love is truly hurtful abuse over just refuses to get their shit together. And the most basic, really self-destructive way, I don't know, maybe choose love, me, text, maybe try and make love work easier than turning something that works into love, I think. So now Marilyn has three kids with a man she doesn't love, or at least three kids she is raising

with a man, she doesn't love, two of them are his. And our husband, Kenna, starts making comments more frequently as time goes on about how heavy she is. He's mocking her about her weight and appearance off in front of the children. When is that approach ever worked by the way? When is shaming someone in front of the kids, uh, strengthened a marriage? I'm going to guess, uh, never. I'm going to guess it makes things worse somewhere around 100% of the time.

And when Ken is not making fun of his wife's body now, the rumor around the neighborhood amongst the extended family is that he's molesting his daughter and some other local young girls. Now let's meet the other member of this terrible not so dynamic duo. Carla homolka born May 4th, 1970. She seemed to have had a pretty normal childhood. She grew up in Ontario and well-adjusted family for most of her childhood. The homolkas lived in a townhouse near Linwell Road in the north end of St. Catherine's, not far from Lake Ontario near Niagara Falls, about 85 miles from Scarborough, 136 kilometers. Also straight across Lake Ontario from Scarborough, Toronto, about 50 miles south of Scarborough across the water. Carle was one of three children, the oldest of the homokas three daughters. Laurie was a year younger, Tammy, the baby, five years younger.

Some sources do list five children, two brothers and three girls, but those brothers not listed in the most comprehensive biographies we could find one of those being a book called Deadly Innocence. One supposed brother is named Logan in these sources, these kind of shady sources. Her sister Lori would change her name to Logan later on. I think some sources made assumptions and just printed them based on that. 99.999% sure there are just three kids, all girls.

Fucking true crime web sources. Most seem to be written in a spirit of, I don't know, fucking close enough. Three kids are five who cares, I do. Just pointing this out for the other true crime junkies. If you're curious about source discrepancies there. Anyway, Carlos mother Dorothy, Canadian, her father, Carol from Czechoslovakia,

which is under communist rule when he'd left with his parents. Carol had his own business selling various lighting products. A job that frequently took him on the road. Dorothy worked at St. Catherine's Shaver Hospital in some capacity. Carol also, it seems, had a very interesting side hustle. On the weekends, apparently he would sell velvet paintings outside the mall.

And apparently velvet Elvis was his biggest seller. Seriously, fuck it, I love it. Hey, I think I might have seen your dad outside the mall, mall. Was he selling velvet Elvis paintings next to his truck? Yeah, well, then he definitely saw my dad. There's no fucking way anyone else is doing that in Ontario. So specific.

Good for him, making some extra cash with a really weird side job. I hope he made so much velvet Elvis loonies and tunis. As a kid, Carla, future half of the duo, the press, what they'd call the Ken and Barbie killers. She really did have a lot of Ken and Barbie dolls, more than a dozen, so many accessories and outfits. They all took up an entire wall of her room. Like many girls her age, she loved to play with them, but her childhood friend, Reina would remember that Carla didn't play with them the way she and her and other friends did. She always dictated the rules of the game. What the Barbies and Ken's, you know, we're doing, what they were

wearing, how they were doing stuff, etc. of Reinaina who is more of a tomboy tried to interject Carla would shut her down Should a very specific plan for what Ken and Barbie needed to be doing a vision if you will And I think this might be an important detail in regards to her later behavior And I know that a lot of little kids love playing grown-up be their toys acting out fantasies totally normal super common But I think Carla got a lot more focused and most on how Ken and Barbie needed to behave. She built this huge fantasy regarding exactly how her, you know, later real life Ken and Barbie fantasy was going to play out. She was going to marry the handsome Ken.

He was going to make good money. They were going to have beautiful children living a beautiful home, et cetera. She might have become, I think, pretty obsessed with this vision. And I get some version of that happening, right? Very common for most of us to have some version of that fantasy for how grown up life is supposed to look. Some version of meeting our person, building a certain kind of life together, et cetera. But Carla seemed to get so tunnel vision with this fantasy that she was over willing to overlook or that she was, I'm sorry, willing to overlook a lot of horrible red flags with her real-life Kendall, Paul Bernardo later, willing to date a monster, later help that monster terrorizing

kill if she got to continue to live her Ken and Barbie fantasy. I don't know, maybe I'm pulling all this out of my ass. When you learn more about her, I'm curious if you'll feel the same way though. Now for another look into Carla's childhood, that while on that, that abnormal doesn't look good considering who she would become. One day when Gina Friend Rainer were about eight Carla said she wanted to try something with Rainer's hamster George. Uh oh Rainer hesitated but agreed. Then Carla made a parachute out of a pillowcase. You some string to tie it around George. I'll pour George. Rainer didn't think this was a good idea. She thought it was a terrible idea. She said she tried

to change Carla's mind, but Carla flung the poor hamster out of the window. Rana then ran down to the yard, found George on the grass, dazed, but alive. Yeah, I bet he was dazed. When she confronted Carla, Carla didn't seem to think it was a big deal. She thought it was funny.

And maybe this means I'm a psycho too, but I don't think trying to make a hamster become a parachuteist when your eight is that big of a deal. I don't think laughing about a dazed hamster who just got flung out of a fucking window is that big of a deal. I mean, if I'm the parent, Carlos, obviously in trouble here. We're going to have a long talk about empathy and all cruelty. It's the teaching moment for sure, but I'm not thinking, oh my God, my kids are fucking

psychopath. And actually, forgive me if I've told the story we've heard before, but this reminds me of another hamster story from my life. My daughter Monroe really wanted a hamster when she's around eight or nine. And or a gerbil, I get those two mixed up all the time. So Lindsay and I had a big talk about how this hamster was going to be Monroe's responsibility. She had to feed it, clean poop out of its cage, you know, et cetera. And this hamster has a little exercise wheel in his cage. And that little

son of a bitch would run. It seemed like literally all night long every fucking night. And that wheel not quiet. You could hear it running in the living room and we would joke about how long has been rog and be able to take this is making her hard, making her hard for her to sleep. She started to hate this hamster. But you know, we told her before we got it like, you know, you're going to have to take care of it. Even if it's annoying, you know, pets are not always perfect. So take care of them when they have certain irritating you know, qualities. So behind our backs, she stops feeding it. When I catch her, she admits to hating it so much. She was willing just to let it starve just so it would stop doing its fucking midnight sprints on his hamster wheel.

She also asked me if I could let it play in the yard in the backyard, and I told her, well, if I do that, it's probably not gonna stay in the yard in some other animal, neighbors dog, whatever is probably gonna kill it. And she said, not joking, she's like, I'm totally fine with that.

So we had a little talk about animal cruelty, possibly after I was done laughing. And now I'm in row, we're totally fine, years later, I think. I'll say how she turns out as an adult, but I think she's fine. She's a very good kid right now. I ended up finding a new home for the hamster,

you know, there wasn't a dog's mouth, so everything worked out. But back to Carla, two weeks later, after his first only flight, things don't work out for little George. He dies. Guess in his insides, we're a little bit jacked up after that parachute trip.

But again, I'm so not too concerned about this part. This next part is a little creepy though. Several weeks later, Carla has another idea. She persuades, you know, Reyna to do this. She would know when someone's home and they do this on a Saturday when Reyna's parents are shopping and her brothers out with some friends. She talks Reyna into letting her dig up George's dead body. Reyna watches her so-called friend dig up the little shoe box that George was buried

in. And then when they look inside, they see that George's body is flat and stiff, legs straight out. Black eyeballs looking at them, you know, from the grave, tiny worms crawling all around his body. Raina wants to put the lid back on. She's disgusted. Carla stops her.

She stares at the hamster for quite a while longer. She's fascinated. And again, not an indicator of a future murderer at all, just some dark curiosity, but uncomfortable to think about knowing who Carla becomes later. Now pivoting back to Paul. By 1974, Paul Bernardo, a happy-go-lucky 10-year-old boy,

he's a well-mannered child, who often wore his boy scout uniform around. Now he's a little scout on our guy. He'd lost recently little little kid speech impediment he'd had, you know, saved for a slight stutter. Already at the age of only 10, there are signs now that Paul Bernardo might end up becoming a sexual deviant. This year, a neighbor catches Paul standing in the backyard of a house in the neighborhood hiding behind some bushes, kind of in the bushes, watching a young girl

get ready for bed, hands over his crotch. Neighbor surprises him, scares the shit out of him, chases him away. She thinks at the time this is probably just normal childhood curiosity. Never mentions it to Paul's mom. Definitely doesn't mention to Paul's dad who has the reputation of being a strict disciplinarian. Neighbor's friends, what often hear kind of screaming in his kids. Peeping on a young girl from the bushes, that is creepy. But I will say creepy light, right?

He's a young boy, he's 10, he's curious about the other sex, his body parts, they excite him, not that abnormal. If you catch your 10 year old boy, doing some bush lurking, some bush peeping, I don't think you have to freak out and worry that they're on a path toward becoming a serial killer.

Again, yeah, definitely teach you a moment.ation opportunity. I got to talk to him here, but also maybe don't come down on them so hard to inadvertently push them towards more bush peeping, but considering who he'd become later, you know, disturbing. And it's a shame someone didn't intervene and have a good talk with him here. That someone was not going to be Paul's dad. When Ken Kenneth wasn't being a strict disciplinarian around this time, he was molesting little girls, maybe close to the age to the one Paul was peeping on. And probably doing a lot of peeping himself. Well, probably definitely, more on that later. 1975 Kenneth Bernardo charged with child molestation of a young girl,

age and name, not given from what we can tell. And rumors are floating around now that he is molested, you know, his daughter Debbie, rather than tell him, not cool to do what he did. Dad might have asked Paul to, you know, keep peeping. Take pics next time. Outside of his dad's pedophilia, somehow his parents do not get divorced over this. And somehow Debbie stays in the home. Paul's childhood seems somewhat normal during his preteen years. Paul and two good friends, the neighborhood Steve and Van, they're walking two and from school together playing together recess, run across country, ice skating and a local ring playing road hockey. Van and Paul receive bronze swimming medallions at a local pool. You know, Paul again, he's in the boy scouts,

he's doing well. He wins a coveted chief scout award. It's part of the kids scouting duties. Stephen Van and with him in the scouts, they put it in 120 hours of volunteer work at the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto in summer, pushing seniors around in their wheelchairs, escorting the elderly to various displays and events. Paul is learning how to start fires with a magnifying glass, twigs and kindling cool shit like that. Also does reveal a little glimpse of who he will become when he pulls an early scam with his buddy's out. They watch a local Buffalo New York TV show personality commander Tom do a charity drive

for muscular dystrophy patients. Commander Tom appeared in various forms to kids in the Buffalo New York area from 1965 to 1993 actually mostly little interstitials wrapped around you know syndicated national kids programs. And Paul Sock Commander Tom suggests to set up carnival games to raise money for charities was a great idea. So they set up coin toss, horseshoe pitching, a little petting zoo featuring the Vans cat gene Tom and his German shepherds, Prince and chief, also Paul's dog Libby.

They raised 30 bucks for muscular dystrophy, Vans about to send it away to Commander Tom's charity when Paul demands they keep the money. At his urging, the trio goes off to some local stores and spends their charity cash. And again, worst thing ever? No. But too bad Paul didn't get caught. Too bad he didn't have a solid role model to punish him before he keeps taking his deviant behavior further.

The next what the fuck is going on with this kid moment we find shows up in 1980. Paul 16. This summer he becomes a camp counselor at a day camp outside of Kitchener Waterloo. Paul Sandi haired with the winning smile, one of the most popular counselors doing shit like leading kids and sing alongs around the campfire, taking them on excursions to go get ice cream cones. He has a lot of fans Kids, the camp love is soft almost angelic face Made even more angelic by his complete lack of facial hair due to a rare genetic trait actually like no hair Peered quiet and shy but laughed loudly and cracked jokes Blushed when people tease him about liking girls seem like a good kid like an innocent kid Some would later remember Paul though being pretty vain

bragging about, you know, being his top boys count, about being the smartest kid in class, definitely had an ego. And also spine on other camp counselors, old bush paper hasn't quit at night. He would later admit to often following couples to make out hill, a secluded spot where teenage counselors gathered to fool around the dark. Dude would literally watch them and beat off in the bushes. This is the most concerning shit he's done so far. He's developing some pretty perverse fantasies now. He's a fucking creepy bush beater.

He's like a male counterpart to the old shrubsluts and way back in the vampire of Sacramento, Richard Chase episode. Remember them? Home records hiding out in the woods, waiting to seduce random dad bods? Oh this is reminding me to take another quick little sponsor break. Today's time suckers brought you by the law office of Chase Camper and Crow. Hello. Did you know that earlier this year? We here helped a group of 50 people whose marriages or

parents marriages had been adversely affected by shrubsluts, reach a class-action settlement for over $100 million. And now, we're waging war against bushbeaters. Have you been lurked on? Have you had the serene feeling of experiencing nature in the new destroyed by the sound of slapping skin? Have you breathing? And maybe some rhythmic leaf rustling.

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them pay. Literally. Even if you didn't get impregnated, you did get violated. You were being spied on. It wasn't your imagination. When you took your clothes off, someone in that bush got off. So call 1-800. That's not the wind.

And get the justice you deserve. And good for those lawyers. All right, tracking down those fucking bush pervs. All right, back to this those fucking bush pervs. All right, back to this week's Bush beater. Paul Kenneth Bernardo. We'd never be caught for this. Now, the people back then had their suspicions. 1980's a big year for Paul.

It wasn't just beating off in some bushes. He was also having real sex now with a real woman. Started dating his first serious girlfriend, a girl's own age, you went to school with named Nadine Brammer. Along with summer camp Nadine became his escape from his parents house where Kenneth and Marilyn are now fighting constantly about what I don't know, just a general just liking of each other. It seems pretty soon Paul would be brought into his parents fighting in a pretty nasty way.

But before that, he and Nadine would have a nasty breakup. She'd cheat on him with his buddy Steve fucking Steve. Steve the snake. He is understandably not happy. He takes everything she's given him and burns it in a barrel and his parents yard and bus Steve's car up a bit. He and Steve will work things out later and continue to be friends. He and they Dean are done and lucky for her. I was trained to must have been years later when I'm sure she heard about Paul being caught and found guilty for rape and murder.

Also, in 1980, Paul's mom tells him that his real dad was her old high school boyfriend, not Kenneth, even dug out a photo to show him. Why? Possibly mostly to embarrass her husband. Nothing dysfunctional here at all. This really rocks Paul's world. His friend van later called out Paul ran over to his house, started sobbing. He also remembered Paul saying this explained why he felt like his dad always resented him

and favored his brother Dave. And already tense Bernardo household gets a lot more tense now. Paul becomes extremely disobedient and defiant now. And in big screaming matches with his mom, we'll call her a slob, big fat cow, whore, you fucking cunt on his dad, old Kenny didler, who also seems to have hated Maryland does nothing to punish him. So he's not getting a good role model here from either parent. Ah, not a not a Fred or Rose West level of dysfunction, but not a healthy home for the Bernardo's.

Paul now starts developing not just a lot of anger towards his mom, but just a strong hatred for society as well. This rage will come out in some rap lyrics that he's now working on. Fuck yeah. Sugar Hill gang's rappers delighted just come out in 1979. Paul now is trying to beat vanilla ice to the pretty white boy hip hop punch, I guess. One of his verses was getting even, getting back at society for what it owes you, getting back at people who crossed you, only those who truly dare. Another said, you want to battle us, you get beat down.

The establishment is saying to the people, you want to battle us, you get beat down by the beat down law, by the fucking beat down law, you guys. It's crazy. You never became a huge hip hop superstar with those lyrics so good. Let's set that to a beat. Mm-hmm. Ah. You want to battle us?

You get a beat down. The establishment is saying to the people. You want to battle us? You get a beat down. By the beat down, law. By the beat down,? You get a beat down by the beat down law. By the beat down law. By the beat down law. Uh-huh. To be fair, he's only 16 when he's writing this shit. This shit I would have written in 16, probably, that was. Paul's now getting into more fights as well. He got into a few fights before with guys who thought his

long hair made him look girly, but now he's starting to fight, starting shit, lifting weights, taking martial arts classes, starting to become proud of the way his good boy appearance. Apparently fools people, the sweetness on the outside, masking his anger and contempt for people on the inside. Later the self definition will become the driving theme of his criminal impulses. He calls it his deadly innocence, the nickname I referenced earlier. He described it in his rap innocence. The nickname I referenced earlier. He described it in his rap music.

Here's some more super dope lyrics. You think I'm innocent? But behind this I'm packing a lot of deadliness. So come at me, come at me. I got a fucking nice face. I look like a pretty boy Why don't you come at me man? Take your best shot See what happens to your pal? You're outta here man You come at me with your beer belly

And you think you're really tough? I come back Looking like I'm 13 years old I keep your ass I keep your parents Then I'll kick your parents, then I'll shoot, you go friend, and fuck your wife. That's me, deadly innocence. That's me, deadly innocence.

My favorite line, favorite line of all that is, I got a fucking nice face. Followed by, see what happens to you, pal. Love all the royalty for the old school 80s hip hop beats out there on YouTube, by the way. Yeah, whoever's making those. Oh, thank you so much. I may or may not have just, you know, been wrapped by myself for a while because they got too into it. Anyway, cool, moe, Paul, sexual desires are growing more perverse now fed by collection

of pornography. He began to accumulate a huge collection of glossy pictures of women in their underwear from clothing catalogs, a fetish he kept secret, hiding the pictures in his bedroom, taking them out, masturbating into his pillow whenever he felt the urge, his own pillow. Okay. Why don't you masturbate into your own pillow? So you can just smell your comment night. What's fuck's going on here? Soon these catalog pick jerk off sashes would get old. I don't know. I still think those old school catalog picks are very sexy. Hey, who's the phenom sex from now as a kid. Sexy now. Come on kids these days. They like it so hardcore. Back when I was a kid, we

like that good wholesome sears and JC penny catalog soft porn, student that stuff wasn't cutting it though for Paul. From catalog ads, he moved on to X rated videos, especially ones in which women were being raped. These tapes could be bought or rented in stores and downtown Toronto. Not good. Not a good look at all, considering who Paul is becoming. Well, I have read a lot about plenty of people who are turned on by rape fantasies, uh, both being the rapper or being the one being raped. And it doesn't ever lead into anything more than fantasy. This still always feels like a red flag to me, a, a point of concern, at least. It's a king.

I have to work very hard not to shame. It makes me uncomfortable. I would be concerned, but no one was concerned about Paul because other than the clerk at the video store, no one knows this is the kind of shit Paul's now beaten it to. To have more porn shop clerks are undercover agents. because other than the clerk at the video store, no one knows this is the kind of shit Paul's now beaten it to. To be more porn shop clerks are undercover agents, right? Maybe 99% of customers are going to be fine with a dude rent and are buying nothing but rape fits.

Maybe that dude should be put on a watch list. And I know I know invasion of privacy and I do think protecting our privacy is important, but could we maybe put people who rent or watch lots of rape porn on a we should probably look into this to do a bit more and at least see what the fuck is going on here list. His fantasies normalized arguably by this violent porn. And I have to think fueled also by anger towards, you know, his mom and his ex girlfriend Nadine, probably to see women, not as people, but as little more than sexual objects now. He particularly likes bondage videos, a depiction of the master slave relationship. He is the master also more peepin going

on in the Bernardo household. And it's not Paul or at least not only Paul. Kenny Bernardo has become the main topic of neighborhood gossip. And this gossip seems to have further alienated Paul from the appearance he has now come to Loth. A peepin tom has been active in the killed wood neighborhood. Women and girls living all around the Bernardo's have been hearing eerie stories outside their ground floor bedroom windows at night. They've been finding a dude's footprints in the dirt and grass under those windows the following mornings.

One teen girl saw the silhouette of a man outside her friend's basement bedroom window peering into the window into the tiny crack between the curtains. One woman who's leaving the neighborhood told some women that Ken was the peeper before she moved out. She said they can frequently snuck out the side door of his house after dark took cover behind a nearby car port. From there, he would see directly across the street to his neighbor's house, specifically their neighbors or their daughter's basement window.

Another woman in her husband also watched Ken cross the street to their lot walk around on their yard. And this couple then found footprints under their daughter's basement window. Another woman in her husband also watched Ken cross the street to their lot walk around on their yard. And this couple then found footprints under their daughter's window. The husband confronted Ken who denied the accusation. Another night a girl who lived near Ken was being dropped off at home by her girlfriend and wanted a chat for a while. Her friend shut off the car. The two sat quietly in the dark around midnight to side door to 21 Surreyman Drive, the Bernardo

household, Creek's open, Outcomes Ken, wearing only pajamas, Bayley and to see the girls in the car, he walks down the driveway out into the street, Ken walks behind some trucks that were parked in a neighbor's driveway. These two girls see him looking inside a basement window now, a young woman's bedroom window.

They drive away, contact the police, who they bring back, but now can nowhere in sight. When police question him, he denies everything, of course, makes up some bullshit excuse as to why he was outside, something along the lines of he, you know, he thought he heard something, had to go check it out. Sorry, officers, thought I heard someone in my driveway, and then I thought I saw them head over to my neighbor's house, and I just worried he might try to hurt their teenage daughter. So I thought I'd check on her, but I didn't want to scare her. So I thought thought why not just peep on her to the window for a while and then I saw take this out

I thought she was naked. He's masturbating on her bed, eh? So naturally I had to keep an eye on her and tell she was done. I mean if some creep would a snuck in there While she was doing that she'd be too distracted to hear him coming. She's right for the pick and a You know, you know, know, he's sucking on those 34 C titties at no time, especially the left one with the molded in the nipple. I don't know, Peep and Tom. I'm just an especially diligent, helpful neighbor.

Fuck is going on here. How crazy is it that both these dudes are Peep and Tom's? What the hell is the connection here? I wonder if both of them were peepin' the same neighborhood. Dude, by the way, how uncomfortable is that? They actually fucking run into each other. Run to each other. That's what Ken gets mad at his son for.

Hey Paul, get out of your block in the view, hey. Come on, yeah, this is my window. I get Monday's Wednesday's and Friday's. We've talked about this. You get Tuesday's and Thursday's. Do your peeping. What is the connection here? Can't be genetic,

because Paul is not Ken's biological son. Coincidence, that'd be one hell of a coincidence. I've had to guess I'd say Paul knew what Ken was doing, but how? That Ken telling that seems crazy. Did he hear his mom yelling at Ken about Ken being a fucking paper? That seems likely. What a creep. What a terrible role model.

Paul may not be his blood, but his apple did not fall that far from Kenny Diddler's peeping tree. Probably a bush beater too. I don't remember to call the law office of Chase Crowley and Kemper when I get off the recording here, 1-800, that's not the wind. Now we're back to Carla, 1982, she's 14. And with her teenage years, come some, you know, changes. No more hamsters strapped to janky parachute, getting tossed out of windows, no.

Now they're getting launched out of windows via slingshots. She's growing up. She's modified a large wrist rocket to be able to shoot large hamster balls. Poor little guys getting launched good 60-70 yards now. Because she surrounds a must-i-rophone packing popcorn, they usually don't die on impact. Right? They just get real shaken up. Now, some she finds to shoot again. Others roll down the road.

They're little clear plastic balls until a car hits him. One reporter, he rolled his way into a street hockey game where it took two periods and a fucking hat trick to die. Now, of course, that's a bunch of nonsense. The age of 14, Carola is undergoing big changes and they have nothing to do with hamsters. She's no longer a little girl. She's done wearing pink, frilly dresses and bows.

Now she wear black jeans and black t-shirts or her blonde hair streaked with browns and reds. She'd recently discovered boys and burns through several boyfriends. She was now easily one of the prettiest girls at Winston Churchill, high school, according to what peers would say later. She had the total package, blonde hair, great looks, knock out body, smart, honor student. But now her grades are starting to slip. Her personality seems different too, she's suddenly less happy, less driven, more sad and quiet. She's moody fucking puberty man. Some days she won't stop Prattalyn and gushing on about going to university, studying to be a veterinarian. Other days she barely speaks,

except to say that she's sick of high school. Sick of boys can't wait to graduate. Peers will later speculate, a lot of her moodyness centered around boys. Alright, she really wanted that Kendall. With a new boys into heriness centered around boys. Right. She really wanted that Kendall, but a new boy is into her. She is on cloud nine. She's boy crazy, super happy. Sky's the fucking limit. Barbie found Ken when she gets dumped or has having relationship problems, nothing could be worst. Right. She's fucking depressed, barely speaking. The sky has fallen. By 1986, when she's 16, she started smoking cigarettes and cutting

herself. She's confessed to friends that she tried to kill herself and there had been attempts with sleeping pills, apparently. She wrote a poem called Suicide, showed it to her friend Donna. So she is going to a darker place than, you know, the average team, probably. And the subject matter here obviously sat, obviously sad, but it's also probably some of the worst poetry ever written. It's on par with Paul's rap lyrics. Here's what she wrote.

It's two were made for each other. Suicide is not an act of selfishness. It is only an escape. The only escape I can see. People say that if I take my life, I'm thinking only of myself, but it is my life, isn't it? Why should I live in pain just to spare the pain of others? What if after carefully thinking and remembering and hurting?

I come up with only one answer, suicide. Then I am considered selfish. What is selfishness? Anyways, caring about me, thinking about me, wasn't I taught to have pride in myself, my work, my play? Pride is me, thinking of me and me caring about me and me liking me. I don't like me. I am no longer the person I used to be.

I am different. Pride is just another word for selfishness. I have reached the end. I have nobody to turn to. And I do feel better about mocking this because of who she becomes like her by the way. I am thinking and nothing makes sense. I end up with one thought, suicide. This is the one thought that makes sense.

The only one, it is hard to take a life yet so easy. Life is so fragile, yet so strong. It all depends on which way you want to go. I have tried unsuccessfully. I have also tried to get it out of my mind. I have willed it to leave. But even when I'm happy, and those times are far and few, the thought is always there in the back of my mind.

It will never leave. I wish I could turn back time to the days of my simple yet happy childhood. I was so carefree, so happy. I had no problems, but I must face facts. I'm caught up in this world, a nightmare, where hundreds of thousands of teenagers like me kill themselves every day. I don't think that's that accurate.

Not out of selfishness or anger, but simply out of pain. Pain. I have to play this because I can't stop hearing it, so I want you to hear it too. Such a simple, simple word for a big complicated emotion. In a motion strong enough to kill I can understand

Will I end up a statistic? Only time will tell, she can be a guest rapper I'll pause out Some advice to you who have not let the thought pass your mind Don't let it Once a stare is there for good Don't let it You can try and try But it will refuse to leave.

Okay, alright Interesting advice there at the end, right? If you don't want to worry about suicide, just, you know, just don't ever think about it. Alright, just don't, guys, you get it? But against year 16, I can only imagine what I've written at that age in a vulnerable moment. Let's back up now just a bit reconnect with Paul. 1982 young Paul still friends with Van and Steve as he finishes high school has really gotten into amway.

Fuck yeah bro. Hail the good God amway maker of fine discount self from home care products like the pursuit disinfectant deodorizer spray just eight fifty for a 16.6 ounce can of magic juice, proven to kill 16 different types of viruses, fungi and bacteria, fungi, including the coronavirus, while also leaving you with a fresh or smell in the room. But seriously, Paul gets really into AMOI.

So I use AMOI techniques in many facets of his life, not only in sales and business, but also in personal relationships. You found great value in cliche, sales pitch phrases like, fake it till you make it. He's a guy who actually loves saying she liked that not ironically. In addition to attending AMway meetings with Van and Steve twice a week at one point for a period of around two years, also bought the books and tapes of famous motivational get rich and famous experts like Tommy Vue. Friends began to comment on how Paul had learned to be so charming.

It was now so skillful at striking up conversations with total strangers. Paul practically memorized Dale Carnies how to win friends and influence people. He was becoming quite the slick douchebag, a solace lizard wearing human skin. Seeing others as a little more than Marx to make money off of. What a way to live. Paul also becomes infatuated with televanjalist Reverend Jim Baker and his praise Lord Club. He doesn't give a rat to ask about religion, but he admires Baker style. How successful he was at making millions and millions off exploiting religious followers.

Remember Jimmy B? Remember that slimy fuck? Remember him getting caught, uh, pain secretary Jessica Han 279,000 to keep quiet about him allegedly have to say that legally. Drugging her and raping her with another man, praise the Lord co-host John Wesley Fletcher. Oh, it looks real guilty. When or they look real guilty when you look into it, then Fletcher accused Baker of having affairs with men and women alike, then other televangials like Jimmy Swaggerd, publicly

denounced Baker, Swaggerd calling Baker a cancer in the body of Christ, then Swaggerd got caught with prostitutes, plural in New Orleans. Then Baker was indicted, found guilty of male fraud, wire fraud, and more for stealing from his followers. Spent five years in prison, owed six million to the IRS when he got out. Then went right back into televangelism, hasn't stopped since recently sued by the state of Missouri for encouraging followers of his Branson-based bullshit ministry to drink colloidal silver liquid fucking silver to keep safe from COVID silver. He sold to them conveniently.

Jim Baker is a piece of shit, a living reminder of how a fool in their money are soon parted and obvious con man, then you want to step outside of his brand of religion and look at it. Truly a guy would not piss out a fuse on fire. Paul love this guy. Of course he did. He loved a good grifter. Paul realized that a good looking, presentable young man like himself could also victimize

the same type of people. Jimmy beat it. So Paul joined the PTO club carried his prestigious, prestigious black plastic card with him wherever he went. Flashy net's impressive gold and boss introduction with a view to gain instant credibility and trustworthiness. Paul and his two buddies never made a lot of amway money, but they view to gain instant credibility and trustworthiness. Paul and his two buddies never made a lot of amway money, but they did trick a lot of women into sleeping with them using sales techniques.

Armed with an entire arsenal of predatory talents and strategies, Paul Steve Van, routinely trolled local bars for girls after they reached the age 19, the legal drinking agent Ontario. They'd lie about their ages, identities, status and life. Sometimes they'd pose as Wiz kid owners of a major restaurant chain. Paul telling the girls his dad is the president. Sometimes they pretend to be professional hockey players drafted by the Toronto Maple Leafs, right? Just a season away from making it to the big, big time show, the big time. Other times they were business entrepreneurs. According to Paul's 1982, Sir Wilfred Laurier high school yearbook, his nickname was stud, and he spent most of his time picking up girls. His yearbook entry said, stud will

remember Laurier where he pursued his favorite pastime meeting girls. He plans to become rich and famous so he can go to California and check out the girls in the beach. Paul says the only way to go through life is to go for it. Oh, you fucking went for it. All right. You went for what he wanted. Unfortunately, what he wanted was to rape and sexually torture to the point of murder. 1983, Paul's 19, just entering a bachelor of arts program now at University of Toronto's Scarborough campus, focusing on commerce, thrilled to no longer be living at home. Also a bigger douchebag than ever.

While he was going to university, Bernardo supplemented by his income by doing shit like stealing from girls he hooked up with. One time his friend Steve caught him and made him hand over 500 bucks. He stole from a girl in New York who let them state her place for a weekend. While he maybe hasn't raped yet,

I would bet money though. He's date raped by this point though. But even if he hasn't, he already has very little concern for the lives of others. He's also making money cigarettes smuggling, loading up, you know, the side panels of his Capri with cheaper American cigarettes. He's bringing across the board at Niagara Falls and selling the smokes and bars throughout Scarborough in our 40 minute drive away. Being in a legal cigarette dealer, that sounds so pathetic to me. Bootlake cigarettes feels like the lowest most pathetic form of cigarette dealer. That sounds so pathetic to me. Bootleg cigarettes.

Feels like the lowest most pathetic form of drug dealer. A drug dealer selling you shit you can already buy, right? But just selling it to you for cheaper. To some dude, you know, like by dumpster, behind a gas station, lurking around the shadows with a stereotypical 80s trench coat. Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss a kid wanna buy some drugs? I don't know man, what are you selling? All the hardest drugs I got coolers light, marble reds, sea-grim wine coolers, Zimas. Dude I can fucking get all that garbage in the gas station. I know, but I can sell it cheaper man. This dangerous drug dealer can give it to you for 20% less man. One day during

his freshman year of college, Paul Stiggy slinger, Bernardo meets girl, we'll call Lucy. Girl whose real name and identity, not revealed via a court order. He had not raved before. Paul definitely begins raving now. Lucy just 16, still a virgin, perhaps pretty gullible. Paul seems to have thought she would, she presented a good opportunity to start experimenting with kinky sex. And his deranged, sadistic mind, since Lucy didn't know what normal sex was, she had no way of knowing what Paul was, you know, what he was doing to her was abuse. The sex between them started off, you know, traditional, vaginal intercourse. Gradually, Paul wanted mosey, filatasho followed by anal intercourse.

Then soon he wanted to tie Lucy up for all this. Then while she's tied up when he's doing whatever he wants, there starts calling her degrading names. Soon after that escalates from verbal abuse to rape. And Paul's car one night Lucy told him she didn't want to have sex. Paul drove to an isolated spot near a factory anyway, parked the car, killed the engine, demanded she get in the backseat. Scared she took off her jeans and underwear, he climbed into the backseat, picked up a wine bottle and handed it to her, told her to put it inside herself. She told him, no, he demanded. Again, scared she does what he asked. As he did, he reaches over, ties her hands together with twine, then throws her on her stomach, raves her anally, puts another piece of twine around her neck,

squeezes it, until she starts to gag. She's wondering if he's going to kill her. He then lets her go, then tells her to put on her clothes, drives home like nothing's wrong. That night she wonders how the seemingly sweet boy who all her friends fond of her could be so brutal and cold. He was so manipulative, even after this, she still wanted to please him, did not quite break up with him yet. But then, when he was soon even more violent with her, it doesn't seem that she gave details of this encounter to the court. After his arrest for murders years later,

she breaks things off. She never originally went to the police. She was too confused and embarrassed. 1984, not long after his breakup with Lucy Paul begins today to girl his own age named Carol. He had met on a double date with Van and Van's girlfriend. And for the next three years, Paul really cemented his violent sexual fantasies with her. He would tell friends her sexual, sexual encounters typically ended up with him tying her up, having anal sex,

and then it turned him on to hear her yell out from the pain. He also beat the shit out of her. His buddy Van also sounds like a real piece of shit for continuing to be this guy's friend right up until his rest. Once Ketchis Paul holding her down, sit on her chest, punch her in the face. One night after she's gone out to a bar with friends without asking him permission, Van pulls him off for her instead of apologizing, Paul spits on her and then says according to Van, she just a fucking whore, fucking bitch. She deserves no respect. Somebody has mommy issues.

Bad mommy issues. Mother, why do you fill me with rage? Why do I take it out another woman? Somebody has mommy issues. Bad mommy issues. Mother, why do you fill me with rage? Why do I take it out another woman? Sadly, these two continue to date for two more years. Then after they finally break up, Paul starts raping strangers. Starting in May of 1987, the suburb of Scarborough

plagued by a series of horrific crimes. In the early hours of the morning, May 4, 1987, a young woman getting off the bus is grabbed and brutally raped near her parents home. Over the next week alone, there will be two more similar assaults. The three women all between the ages of 15 and 21 and the attacks all included beatings. We know Paul like that intense verbal abuse, classic Paul, anal rape, the most Paul and dire threats to discourage victims from going to the police.

Sounds right. Similarities led authorities to conclude that they'd all been perpetrated all the crimes by the same man. From the newspapers, quickly dubbed the Scarborough rapist. During his nearly five year rampage, as the Scarborough rapist Paul Bernardo rapes or attempts to rape at least 19 young women, that's the official count. God knows how many never went to the police. Stats very quite a bit regarding how under reported rape actually is, but according to a US justice department analysis of violent crime in 2016, nearly 80% of rapes go unreported. What if nearly 80% of Paul's rapes went under or unreported? That would mean he raped nearly a hundred women during those five years. Why didn't you break his dick off, Luciferina?

The victims all young women, right, often grabbed around bus stops, although at least one 15 year old was attacked in her own bedroom. Fucking bush beater, probably hiding outside a window. At the start of the spree, Paul was in his final year of university. He had motivational signs all around his bedroom at this time, saying shit like time is money, and poverty sucks. And I don't meet the competition. I crush it.

Dear God. Even if he never hit new women or raped, I would hate him just for that fucking poster. Paul still wants to be a famous rapper. Now setting off some, or setting some of his violent lyrics to music, I guess, which those tracks were out there somewhere for us to find in here. We'll be nice to have a lot of laughs at this piece of shit's expense. He even had a title for what was going to be his first album, Deadly Innocence. Deadly Innocence.

This guy's level of Dush on par with Mark Mitchell, Twitchell. Now let's move back to Carla, reconnect in the summer of 87. There are two stories about to come together as one. Carla now leaning fully into the God thing, black tank top, black leggings, black undershirt and bra, black skirt, black docked Martins. I look very much back in right now, actually at least the 2021 version.

Her lipstick and her eye shadow is black. Her favorite band is the BC boys, favorite song. You gotta fight for your right to party. Fuck yeah, bro. That is a great song. She told her old friend, Reina, that she was taken birth control, but her parents didn't know about it. Bad girl. Also talking about witchcraft, demons, curses.

God, she told Rayna doesn't exist, but the devil does. Oh, so dark and mysterious. Little that you know, Carla was about to meet the devil on a fateful mid-Summer trip to Toronto in the summer of 87 17 year old Carla meets 23 year old Paul Bernardo. Carla on a fateful mid-Summer trip to Toronto in the summer of 87, 17-year-old Carla meets 23-year-old Paul Bernardo. Carla on a weekend trip with her boss from work, working for a veterinarian. Some friends came along, staying at the Howard Johnson hotel in Scarborough, to attend a convention of pet store owners. Ojangl says he was at this convention. Spoke is a guest of honor.

Our three-legged one-eyed pit bull times of God said he still hears from some nice ladies. He quote, spent some time, spent some quality time with as this convention. Not sure if those ladies are canine or human, afraid to ask. The real reason Karla went to this convention, she didn't give a shit about, you know, talking about, fucking, bed soreners, owners, she wanted a party. Karla and her friend go clubbing. They bring two boys back to their hotel room, then change their minds, make them leave, then Karla rings the lobby up for some room service

and form though that they're closed. So she goes down to the hotel restaurant. Two girls are eating grilled cheese sandwiches and the hotel's all night eatery when two men walk in and walk right up to their table. Two guys, Reacon, with small to medium dick and weight energy. They got that Jimmy Baker swagger.

The blonde man focuses on Carla Teesner about being in a restaurant with her pajamas. They make small talk, exchange names. Smiling at Carla, he says, my name is Paul Bernardo. The four of some chat in the restaurant for an hour later, Carla would tell friends she had never met a guy with such animal magnetism. Those Dale Carnegie courses paying off. An hour after they meet, Carla leads Paul or to her hotel room and they have sex. How to win friends and influence people indeed. The following weekend Bernardo travels to St. Catharines and the couple goes to

see a John Carpenter movie, Prince of Darkness, ironic or ironically about an evil spirit being unleashed into the world. Afterwards, they were about to fucking be those evil spirits. Afterwards, they went to her parents' house. Dorothy was an administrator at the, as I said earlier, at the Shaever Hospital at St. Catherine's. Carol ran in a lighting business out of his house this time. No word on if he was selling the sweet velvet Elvis paintings at this moment. Even though his English is bumpy, he's friendly, popular with everyone in the neighborhood.

Carla and Paul arrive with some of Carla's friends pretty soon. It's party. And while the party's going on, Carla and Carla, Carla, went into her joining bedroom in Locksador. There was Carla's gene jacket on the back of the door with a set of handcuffs sewn onto the pocket for decoration. Carla tells Paul that he can use him on her if he wants. So that's what he does. And now they're in a relationship.

A girl who wants to be tied up. Perfect for Paul. Paul starts calling her his little princess bringing gifts for her, bringing wine for the family whenever he visits his easy charm, bright smile, and generosity make him an instant hit with the homo-co family. Several days after their first date, Carla writes Paul some postcards. A habit she will continue throughout the relationship. Some days she writes him two or three cards, mails him to his house in Scarborough. Dear Paul, you're always on my mind. I miss you, Carla said one card.

Another said, Hi Paul, I'm cleaning up my room, just waiting for your call. I hope you want to spend the weekend with me. I can't wait to see you. Paul begins to do a lot of driving in those first few months. He visits Carla on Fridays after finishing work, staying late before driving back to his home in Scarborough about a three hour round trip. They will return to St. Catherine's on Saturday, leave on Saturday night before returning

Sunday, staying late into the evening. Soon Carla is asking him to spend weekdays there too. Wednesdays after he finishes at Price and Waterhouse, Gigantic Global Accounting firm, he's now in turning out that has since morphed into Price,house Cooper's he gets on the expressway head for St. Catherine's When he arrives Carla always has a note waiting for him to my prince call or visit me anytime love from your little princess Often he takes her out for dinner. You know nice restaurants. He's always dressed up so well Taking her at first with her friends from school, but later just taking the you know her alone These two are fucking like rabbits often in the backseat of Bernardo's white capri. But soon Paul starts to get bored. And so the cycle begins for these two. Paul gets bored and then Carla agrees

to go further to please him. And he gets bored again and she goes further still to please him. And upping that ante will soon lead to so much misery. With each sexual encounter, starts taking Paul longer and longer to climax, as soon he can't ejaculate, gets frustrated, he wants more. And late October, 1987, Carla calls her friend Raina to gush about the man she'd met over the summer. She said he wanted to go into business for himself and hope to become a millionaire.

At the time being, he was trained to become an accountant with Price Waterhouse. They've been out in several dates, the sex was great. She felt that they had so much in common. He too was looking for a permanent relationship and tired of dating. In fact, she said laughing. They even liked the same horror movie Friday the 13th. So, mates, he likes the same horror movie. Twinting this winning OMG FTW. He's a kind of my Barbie R-O-F-L, T-T-Y-L. Raina quickly saw a change in Carla,

when she started seeing Paul. He didn't like her streak, Tara, so she goes back to her being a natural blonde. He doesn't want her to wear, he wants her to wear longer skirts, so she does. Gradually phasing out her punk style. Always a real healthy sign, by the way. When someone you start dating,

immediately wants to change the way you dress and look. Super healthy, no red flags. I'm sure any relationship counselor would echo these nuts sarcastic at all sentiments. LL Cool Paul also has less conventional demands. He wants her to call herself names during sex pretty soon. Stuff like, I'm your little cock sucker, I'm your little cunt, I'm your little slut. For some, this is just role play. With Polly mommy issues, I'm gonna say this is straight up misogyny. Around Christmas of 1987, Paul, who is now a berating Carla for not being a virgin when they met, you know, because he sees her as sexual property and

extension of his own ego rather than a completely independent entity. Now he's telling her he wants anal. It's a pricey way to this long. Carl doesn't want to. And a letter, she writes, I'm just sitting in bed listing to a depressing song by Elvis Presley. I can't help falling in love with you. Some things are meant to be like me and you. I trust you completely now. I'm not even afraid that you'll take my trust and fuck me up. I trust you 100%.

But I still worry sometimes that we're going too fast. It just feels so right though. I just love you so much. You're wonderful. You're the best, my friends. I love you. Carla. Wrong dude to trust 100%.

Wrong guy to trust. buck and one percent. That Christmas ball still hoping to push Carla further sexually lavishes gifts on her. And while he's buying gifts for Carla, Paul also carves at a little time for some raping. If Carla won't try anal, right, till force it on others. In December of 1997, Paul attacks at least two women.

The second woman he attacked, 22 years old, had just stepped off the Lawrence Avenue bus. Near the end of the line, was walking north toward her home, keeping on the west side of the street because it was better lit before she met the devil. It was just after two in the morning, as she passed the townhouse complex, a shadowy figure tackled her from behind, knocking her face first to the ground. There was no time to react as Paul dragged her to the alley between the two houses. Before she knew it, she was on her stomach, arms pinned by her sides. Paul straddled her and warned, don't look at me or you're dead.

He raped her, she lay most on the ground, shivering in the cold. Afterwards, he dragged her towards a fence, tied her hands to a picket with his own belt. Before he left, he kicked her in the ribs, just because he fucking hates women. She waited a long time before finally feeling comfortable, freeing herself and stumbling to a hospital. The hospital, she told her to detect it, what she knew about Paul, white, maybe six feet tall, probably around 180 pounds, what she hadn't seen his face and they had no real lead to go on. Following month, January of 1988, Paul, pushing for Carla's loophole again.

When Carla won't indulge him, he grows angry. He doesn't come over the next weekend, so she sends him a letter attempting to apologize. I'm so sorry for what I've done. She wrote a reference to her having sexual encounters before meeting him there, something he'd bring up when she turned down anal. I hate myself. I know I don't deserve it,

but I want a second chance. Hearing you say you didn't love me was one of the worst days of my life. I guess I really screwed things up. There are no perfect people in this world. One day, you may find your virgin, Carla. Geez. So sad.

Don't ever apologize to anyone for your past sexual encounters, meet sex. None of their fucking business. Their anger over your sexual past, always about their insecurities, not about your supposed sense. Unless your past sexual experiences are extreme shit, like molesting kids or fucking dolphins or something.

Then, yeah, they have a right to be upset and concerned. He called, they make up on the phone, you tear, tearfully tell us him that she'll try anal sex to make him happy. Oh boy. He visited the next day, brings flowers, bottle a liquor for dad, wine for mom, he's in gray mood. Probably spent hours that week beating off in various bushes, peeping on strangers to their windows,

thinking about deflowering Carla's loophole. But they don't do it at her house. No, he has a whole set up in mind. He wants to act out in February of 1988. Carla goes to Paul's parents house in Scarborough, lying to her parents. And she's meeting Paul's parents for the first time, but they weren't home. They would be alone in Paul's old bedroom. He takes nude pictures of her on a self-time polaroid.

Got to document this for his files. Then he handcuffs her to the bedpost while they have sex afterwards. He takes out a wine bottle on Custer tells her to put the bottle in her vagina. Not sure what his fucking weird bottle in the vagina fixation is. Probably part of the part of those porns used to watch. She complies, he snaps away with the camera, then comes the party, really been waiting for. Down on her hands and knees, he raises her ass up in the air, he sets up the camera, then penetrates her anally. When she cries out in pain, he pretends to back off,

then takes a black electrical cord from the dresser, puts it around her neck and pushes inside her again. A few minutes later, he takes out a knife, it's in its sheath, has an eight inch blade, he frightens her at first, but he says he won't hurt her. Using the knife during sex,

he tells her just excites him. That sounds healthy. It sounds like she has nothing to worry about. And that's how it went. Quarter on the neck, knife to the throat, hammer hammered away the loophole until he was done. M way style, baby. Maybe they teach that technique is some of their meetings. Later, Carter will say this made her worry, but she doesn't think about leaving hormones

combined with youthful stupidity. How many lives does that combo root? Reproduction instincts really do not have our best long-term life plans in mind. Uh, Paul as the Scarborough rapist would strike again in April of 1988. 19 year old woman has just gotten off a bus on Markham Road in Scarborough. She's returning from her job at a restaurant. Later tells police she thought the attacker had probably been hiding in some bushes. Of course, that's where this fucking bush beater was lurking.

She'd read about the Scarborough rapist but fell safe because she lived in the city center. In the previous four attacks, she'd heard about, had all been in the southeastern end. Paul Snucka behind her, punched her hard in the head. Then he dragged her off the sidewalk, assaulted her behind some bush, brush, holding a knife to her throat. It was a Scarborough rapist fifth known assault a few weeks before, right, that there had been a similar attack in nearby Mississauga, where a woman had been pulled into some bushes after getting off a bus. The woman in Mississauga had had had seen her attacker's face with a police catch artist, picture creative of

a man in his early 20s, find features, wavy blonde hair. So progress, but not enough to really have a clue who they're looking for. Canada loaded with dudes with wavy blonde hair. One evening in the fall of 1988, Paul and Carla driving back from Lake Gibson, when Paul tells her that now he wants her to wear a dog collar while they're having sex. Carla thinks this is the dumb idea, tells him so, Paul slaps her across the face.

Here he goes again, and then Paul begins to cry and apologize, and that's when Carla should've fucking ran. She didn't ran before, but definitely now. How to win friends and manipulate people. But instead, she feels guilty for her making Paul cry. So she agrees to try the dog collar. Next time he hits her a few months later, he's not apologetic.

He had persuaded her to take a trip with him to Florida that fall, again, again, telling her to lie. Say they were going to stay with his grandparents now on Georgian Bay. While in Florida, he buys a Sony camcorder to record more of their sex cabades. When Carla actually breaks the camcorder, he lunges at her, kicks her and punches her.

Starts calling her names also around this time in front of her friends. When they talk on the phone when he gets mad, deadly innocence. Early 1989, Paul decides he needs a new car. He sells his shitty white mercury capri, a sports car, Astrix, and at least is a brand new gold Nissan 240 SX, the sports car, Astrix for guys who can't afford real sports

cars and equipped it with a car phone. Fuck yeah bro, deadly innocent style. He trades one lay mass, wannabe sports car for another wannabe. I want everyone to think I'm rich and cool, but I want a fucking budget mobile. Of course he drives these kind of cars. He also gets a standard transmission even though Carla can't drive stick. This is on purpose. If Carla needs to go somewhere, he'll take her. At this point, he virtually controls everything she does. What she wears, who she sees, where she goes with friends.

Carla doesn't seem to mind. She tells friends that, you know, she'll decide things, you know, for the couple once are married. You know, that's their deal. She'll be in charge of the house and children then. Ah, the human mind's so good at rationalization. I'm not making terrible life decisions. I'm just, this is a plan. I'm suffering now, but it'll get better later. It's all part of the process that I've worked out my head. On the spring of 1909, Carla graduates in high school. She

tells Paul that she wants to go to the University of Toronto to study criminology. And he's like, nope, fuck that. Put on the dog collar, be a good fuck pet and shut up. He doesn't say exactly like that, but he does shut it down. Paul tells her that becoming a criminologist is too dangerous and come on. He had enough law enforcement already looking for him. But that is girlfriend and adding to the mix, am I right? The controlling behavior continues. Where the hell are her parents all this?

Doesn't feel like they were really checking in with her. Maybe she was just really good at hiding what she was doing from them. Apparently she got into a lot of screaming matches with her parents who in a lot of articles I read, they do seem like meek, soft spoken, pushovers. Paul buys her a promise ring now to make her mind rest easy about skipping college.

I got you, babe. Why go to school? When you can stay home and get beaten and saturday night, roughly. Now she told friends she planned to get married and started a family with Paul. By the time graduation rolls around, Carly's excited to show off Paul to her classmates

at her high school graduation party aboard the Garden City, a boat board at Port Delucey. Carly loved Port Delucey, so did Paul. They often talked about buying a house where Paul could do his accounting business. Carla could raise the children. Port de Lucy, a waterfront community and St. Catherine's with the beach side vibe. People flocked there to surf kayak paddleboard and swim. Seems like a pretty quaint community. The historic carousel on the beach still charged just five cents a ride. Eventually, Port de Lucy

will be home to some pretty horrific happenings courtesy of Carla and Paul, but not quite yet. This night, Carla graduating in high school, Paul, the oldest date in attendance at 25, and he's driving the coolest car. Fuck yeah, room, room in that gold Nissan 240 FX through the high school parking lot, like a boss. After Paul mistakenly assumes a boy is hitting on Carla, fight breaks out, Paul knocks out two football players with two swift punches, 25 year old, punched on some 18 year old, noise.

One boy though, decks him back and then Carla steps in, screaming at everyone to stop. When they get off the boat, a police cruiser is waiting, but after taking statements, the police officer decided not to charge anyone, send the kids home with stern lecture. The highly dysfunctional couples' second anniversary comes, summer of 1989. Less than two months later, they get engaged, Niagara Falls. Carla is so proud she enters a contest, sponsored by the Toronto Star.

It calls on readers to describe the most romantic moment of their lives. In her entry, she wrote, Paul took me to Niagara Falls, and we walked hand in hand, gazing out at the red and green lights along the falls, and then, when no one else was around, he got down on one knee,

and he punched me in the pussy. Before I knew it, the dog collar was around my neck, and almost two full inches of rock hard cock in my ass Balls deep No one's hung like deadly innocence He's got that gold Nissan 240 SX Magic stick And he asked me to marry him before the knife even touched my throat like a true gentleman Best part was that he got the ring on sale through Amway part of their love money collection

Okay, maybe that isn't quite what she wrote What she really wrote was Through M-way, part of their love money collection. Okay, maybe that isn't quite what she wrote. What she really wrote was... whispered words of love into my ear. It was a music box and it played the impossible dream. And then with the shaky voice, he asked me to marry him. I threw my arms around him and cried tears of joy. Every night I wind up to music box, gaze at the ring, gaze at the photograph of the most wonderful man in the world, and remember the most romantic moment of my life."

She didn't win the contest. Did not win the future husband lottery either. By the fall of 1989, the hunt for the Scarborough rapist was in its third year. Three years and seven reported rapes had passed and the police were no longer closer, any closer than they were previously to catch their man. The press now started calling him the million dollar man, referencing how much they assumed the police had spent on the investigation. Paul and his deadly innocence, ego had to be fucking loving that

Probably worked that million dollar man shit into some new rap lyrics, right? Here we go RCMP never gonna catch me Canada's most wanted still walkin' free the million dollar man with the billion dollar plan Deadly innocence rocking in the ghost of Dan Local enforcement for the sexual assault squad catches dickhead their new office in downtown Toronto Thousands of tips poured in but there were no solid leads So the up the ante offer a hundred fifty thousand dollars for info that led to the capture of this piece of shit Still doesn't lead to anywhere though.

Meanwhile, Carla, planning her wedding, she wanted to be a June bride. She wanted to be Mrs. Scarborough rapist. My life is going great, she wrote to a friend. Paul and I are happier than ever. We're spending our time planning our wedding. Everything is going well. The dinner's going to be $45 a plate. I'm glad I don't have to pay for it.

My mom and I have already been out looking for wedding dresses. It was great. Paul was really enthused. He's been so great, so romantic. But that's typical of my honey. But her happy sentiments, their fucking bullshit, behind the scenes, thanks not going great. Paul getting bored with her sex life again.

Her Lou Paul, not enough to keep him interested. Now he starts dropping hints that he wants to bring another woman into the bedroom. Carla, not excited about this plan. So Paul scales back a bit and proposes that what if they just roleplay? What if Carla pretends to be someone else, you know, when they have sex? She asks, you know, who do you have in mind? And holy shit! Is this next part fucking creepy?

Paul says he wants Carla to pretend to be Tammy. Carla's 15-year-old sister, the fucking balls on this guy. This 25 year old tell him his 18 year old fiance that he wants to pretend that when he's having sex with her, he's actually having sex with her 15 year old little sister. And Carla fucking agrees to this. Not only does she agree to this really fucked up role play, I'm gonna kink shame the shit out of this.

Also, let's Paul look at pictures of Tammy while Carla goes down on him. What the fuck? Then Carla even steals some of her little sisters clothes, puts them on, pretends to be Tammy while she and Paul have sex. Eventually, Paul always want to take things further. He wants to have sex in Tammy's bedroom. So that's what they do.

Right? Carla complies. Of course, the escalation doesn't stop here. Now comes something even more bizarre. Paul starts going into Tammy's room on his own masturbating onto her pillow while staring at one of her photos. Good God. To bet their dad didn't kept fucking catch him doing this. I literally think in this situation, I would probably kill this motherfucker, right? I hope I would. There's to be a new law. If you catch a grown man jerking off under your

underage daughter's pillow, you can legally kill him. He was jerking off on my daughter's pillow, so I had to shoot him defense. Wonder what Paul's dad can eat with the think of this. I'm guessing he would be so fucking jealous. Oh, you can't wait. You can take a picture from me. Come on. Uh, then Paul takes things further again.

Uh, late one night, he sneaks into Tammy's room while she is sleeping, stands over her at the side of the bed rubbing his crotch, unz his pants jerks off at ejaculates onto the pillow beside her head. Tammy doesn't wake up. Even if you didn't think murder was justified in that last example, it's justified here, right? Come on. I mean, now it should definitely be legal to kill him. Carla around this time has been hired at the Martin Dale Animal Clinic in St. Catherins as a Technicians Helper and her duties include work on the reception desk and feeding the animals, cleaning the cages, also preparing animals for surgery, and is training to anesthesize them with halathane.

The stuff knocks out humans as well. I'm guessing you can see where this might be heading. Also, wonder if Carla ever talked about her sex life with any co-workers at the animal clinic. Don't you hate it when your fiance is too tired for sex because he just finished jerking off and you're sleeping since your spell again. Gosh. And May of 1991 of Bernardo's rape victims able to give police and accurate description of her attacker won't leave directly to catching him, but a good start towards that. The

show woman who got off the bus on Shepherd Avenue was waiting for the midland avenue bus that would take her seven blocks to her friends house. Instead of waiting for the bus, she decided to walk Paul Bernardo cruising down Shepherd Avenue, he sees her, quickly turns, park fan of church, stash his keys under the driver's seat, grabs his knife. As he trails behind her, he suddenly turns, she suddenly turns around and they exchange a few lines of conversation, talking about how late it is. It was something Paul had never done before. Usually, he made sure his victims never saw his face. At some point during their brief conversation, he grabs her, forces her into a nearby school yard.

The bush feeder finds some bushes. As in the other rapes, he uses the ligature, drawing it tight around her neck. When he's finished, he disappears into the night, but she had seen his face. And later with the sketch artist, manages to come up with a guy that seems very familiar. The guy to investigators, the guy from the Misa saga attack, even Paul's co-workers, or Mississa saga, Mississa saga, there we go, attack. Even Paul's co-workers, thoughts on this catch, look, eerily similar to Paul, and he just laughs it off.

I bet deadly, deadly innocence was starting to get a bit nervous here, though. Or maybe not, I don't know. The ego's on these guys, so out of control, probably so arrogant. He's still thought he'd never get caught. Carla and Paul's first truly heinous joint act goes down in July of 1990. Very bad taboo in so many ways. By this point, every time Paula and Carla have sex, Paula or Paula, Paula and Carla, if she wants her to pretend that she's Tammy, Carla goes along with this because I don't know, she has zero self respect, I guess.

Paula has now also started flirting with Tammy, started driving her to soccer games, videotaping her plane, videotaping some sherry jerked off to later. The fuck is going on with her and Carlos' parents though, seriously. From there, I'm very suspicious of this motherfucker. I catch him flirting with her, he's banned from the house.

Time to take him out to the gun range, do some shooting together. Time to not drop, you know, or to drop, excuse me, some not so subtle hints of how thoroughly a single shotgun blast can obliterate somebody's face. Time to talk about how it wouldn't take that long to bury the chart remains of someone that you'd already had the whole dug. Then maybe talk about how you already have some holes dug. I don't know, just crazy shit. Another time Paul and Tammy go on a trip across the border to buy some liquor. They're supposed

to be gone for a lean hour, but they take a little detour on the way back. Paul Parks and his secluded lot leans over kisses her kisses his fiance's little sister Tammy surprised, but she'd always liked him. So she kisses him back and they get home Carla furious Paul denies anything happened, but she knows better. And then Paul makes a totally normal pitch. This is a really taboo horrific thing I referenced earlier. What if he has sex with Tammy just to show her the ropes, not making this up? He actually told his fiance that he wanted to teach her a little sister how to have sex by fucking her. Carla refuses, right?

She also still doesn't leave him. No part of me understands how Carla is still rationalizing being with Paul at this point. How does she not think this will get worse? And that last thing was not the horrific incident. That one's coming up just a tiny bit more. And I know Carla's young, and she's been abused. I manipulated her, but also, is she just fucking so stupid? Paul's a sadistic, narcissistic piece of shit.

And Carla is his apparently idiotic pathetic sidekick. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do regarding thinking of what I'm supposed to think about her at this point. Her consistent weakness of character, her enabling of Paul's evil impulses makes it impossible for me to respect on any level, despite how young she is. I hate them both. Carla afraid that if her parents find out about all this,

they'll make her enter engagement. Yes, and they should. My God, the tunnel vision. Oh my God, so gross that she's not worried about her sister at this point. How she is reacting here is an example of what her psychiatrist would later call her moral vacuity, though highly intelligent in some ways, she seemed to lack the personality skills necessary to make moral judgments, even one involving her younger sister. Although Carla refuses Bernardo persists and now the relationship becomes strained again,

that July, the first month and nearly three years that she doesn't send him a single love card for his part Paul begins to tell Carla that if she was just a better girlfriend, he wouldn't need Tammy. How to win friends and talk fiancee into letting you fuck your sisters. The relationship problems escalate into some physical fights. Then Paul proposes a fix for their relationship.

He told Carla that they should drug Tammy. Druger unconscious so he can have sex without her knowing and then no one gets in trouble. for their relationship. He told Carla that they should drug Tammy, drug her unconscious so he can have sex without her knowing and then no one gets in trouble. Right, doesn't cause any weird tension in the family. And this is when stupid fucking Carla should have not just went to her parents, but to the police.

Her not doing so puts her in the top 1% of worst siblings of all time. Oh, this is garbage. He is Hitler and she is his most loyal Nazi. Paul tells her that if she doesn't go along with his plans, he's gonna secretly videotape Tammy getting undressed. Nestle does one night, standing on the fence while Tammy gets ready for bed, Bernardo,

Jimmy's the blinds in a room so that she couldn't close them all the way or he's done that, you know, previously. Carla should have taken that video to both her parents and the police, but she doesn't. Instead, she now agrees to help this psycho drug her little sister in order to be able to rape her. At the end of that July, Carla and Paul spiked Tammy spaghetti with value. Then that night, Paul raped Tammy, but only lasted a minute or so before she begins to wake

up. Again, what the fuck is Carla thinking here? Why would anyone want to marry this guy after all this? Sometime before this happened, Paul had read perfect victim, the true story of the girl in the box, right? Sounds like he's definitely fantasized about having a sex life. November of 1990, police finally check out Paul Bernardo from a list of hundreds of potential suspects in the Scarborough rape case. A rape cases.

When deadly innocence goes to downtown Toronto station, detectives check Paul's criminal background, find no offenses. They ask him about his resemblance to the composite sketch and Paul says, that's why he wanted to come down and talk to him. You know, he was going to do it anyway. If they wouldn't have brought him in, he was, you know, real anxious cooperate because he wanted to clear himself. He's then given a sanitized comb. He runs through his hair several times, collects some loose strands. And he's given a test tube, asked a spit into it. He does a pin prick gives a police drops of blood as well that they need for a lab. All of these pieces of evidence will be analyzed for DNA. Now deadly innocence is scared.

Paul had left DNA on many of his victims, but legal authorities in Canada had just begun to use DNA evidence in 1988. Only a few crime labs across the country have been set up for DNA testing. Bernardo Sample, analyzed in Toronto with a center of forensic sciences, but in November 1990, the lab only had one scientist qualifying to do DNA work. Others were upgrading their skills, but it would take months before they got proper certification, enabling them to testifying court. And it would take a minimum of three months to finish the test on Paul Bernardo's DNA.

And Paul next saw Carla that evening. He said he had something important to talk to her about. And we don't know exactly how the conversation went. Some would say that Paul hinted at being the Scarborough rapist, but Carla refused to accept what she was hearing. Others would say that Paul confessed and Carla didn't find it repulsive. In fact, she encouraged it. I don't know. Maybe something in the middle there. Given what these two had just done, I'm guessing if she didn't encourage it,

she's okay with it. I mean, Carla just helped this motherfucker, rape her sister. What would she care if he's also the Scarborough rapist? A lot of this time lens info based on a classic he said, she said, when it came time for the murder trial of these two regarding their private conversations, involvement, motives, Paul would paint Carla as a very willing participant and encouraging participant,

Carla would blame Paul for everything and play the victim. December 23, 1990, two days before Christmas, the homocles, host and a holiday party. Earlier that morning, Carla had stolen a vile of sedatives from the veterinary clinic. She worked out. Excuse me. That night, once the, the seemingly very checked out parents, gone upstairs, Carla spiked Tommy's, or Tammy's, egg nog with Hals and Somnium medication. A powerful sedative.

Once Tammy had passed out, Paula helped Carla lay her sister on the floor of the den next to the Christmas tree. Right? This is her present to him. Carla then got a brown flask of halithane from her room, poured some onto a cloth, pressed it against her sister's fucking mouth. What can go wrong when you mix an animal tranquilizer with sedative? Paula then unbuttoned 15 year old Tammy's blouse shoved his hands up her bra

Fonded her breasts while Carla takes off her sister's clothes Paul now gets a camcorder switches it on positions it on the floor beside him as he takes off his pants He spreads Tammy's legs prepares to mount her un fucking real Tammy is Carla's baby sister She is actively helping her fiance rapor Some psychologists later some true crime writers would argue that Carla was forced into her decision here as a victim of what is known as the battered wife syndrome, taken in by Paul's charm, overwhelmed by his good looks. She'd been conditioned by his constant verbal and physical abuse and to go along with whatever

he wanted. But does that really morally condone this act? How about fuck that? I don't believe in victim shaming, but also I don't believe in just giving a gigantic moral past to victimizers who also happen to be victims. Think about that slippery slope. Why does it give a past to all the serial killers out there who had horrific childhoods? It wasn't really their fault.

They've been victimized, manipulated, so who really can blame them for what they did later? I mean, following this reasoning, all the murderous members of the Manson family should have been led out of prison many, many years ago. It's a should have ever been put in prison at all. Manson tricked them into murdering Sharon Tate and her unborn baby and others. Wasn't really their fault. They were manipulated.

Some psychologists would testify that Carla was constantly afraid. Paul was going to kill her and she went along with all this basically because she was afraid for her life and hoped if Paul got it out of his system, he'd go back to being a kind happy partner. Get the fuck out of here. Fortunately, other better in my opinion, psychologists did not agree. Dr. Nathan Pollock at the University of Toronto said that Carla just didn't fit the profile for a battered woman. He said they tended to be women in their late 30s, you know, at least who had been married for almost nine years, usually with children, most have been physically abused themselves as children. Carla did not fit any of those criteria.

Instead, he another said she was just as sadistic as her partner, or went along with him out of purely selfish desires. He was offering everything she wanted, pretty house, lots of spending money, bunch of kids, and she was willing to sacrifice her fucking sister to get that shit. She was doing this because at the end of the day,

she was just really, really narcissistic and cared more about herself than anyone else. These are the two main theories about Carla, victim of abuse versus perpetrator. Personally, I don't see how Carla could have participated so, so much if she didn't have some real selfish motives. Some others think her real motives were even darker than just going along with all this to get a house, kids, hands, and husband. A lot of evidence that will come out later about Carla directly assaulting victims, including video footage of those assaults. This shit turn her on, just like it turned Paul on.

Carla could have gone to the police. She could have told someone, she could have called in an anonymous tip, she could have stood up for her baby sister, could have told police Paul confessed to being a rapist didn't do any of that shit. Partially because she didn't, a lot of women will be hurt, some will die. Carla in my mind, not innocent in all this.

While Paul Rape Tammy with Carla watching, Carla poured more Hall of Fame onto the cloth, substance twice as potent as chloroform, four times as strong as ether, and operating rooms is administered carefully and strongly regulated. But that night, Carla just poured it haphazardly onto a fucking rag, kept pressing against her sister's face. Since she worked in an animal clinic, Carly arguably knew that Hallothane could induce nausea, vomiting, and that it was dangerous to use on someone

who'd been drinking or eating, is that increased the risk of vomiting. Could also, she should have known, and like they did know, could induce coma or death, especially when you mix it with fucking sleeping pills. But even though she probably knew all that Carla continued to press the rag onto her sister's face, then she also sexually assaulted her sister. Hmm.

While Paul now sodomizes Tammy, this is some seriously evil shit. Then a few minutes later, he abruptly stops because Tammy's face is fucking blue. While Paul was sodomizing her, she had vomited and choked. Carla ran to get a mirror from a room, held it under a sister's nose. The mirror did not fog, Tammy's not breathing. Before calling 911, which would have very likely saved her life at this point. A terrible team of deadly innocence and deadly dumb shit, hide the evidence. They redress Tammy, mover under her bed.

When paramedics get there, they notice a chemical burn on her mouth. Police would later speculate that Tammy might have been free-basing crack cocaine, but since the hairs on her cheek weren't singed, they can see that the cause had to be something else, maybe an acidic burn from the vomit in her stomach. Few hours later, Tammy pronounced dead at St. Catherine's General Hospital. They've gotten a breathing again, but she never regained consciousness. You know, brain dead. Back at the homocahouse, Paul told police he had unsuccessfully tried to revive her and her death is ruled as an accident. And I'm wondering how the fuck did he explain why he was in her bedroom to know she wasn't breathing? As the police delivered the news, Carla had

an unexpected reaction. She went to put Tammy's comforter in the washing machine, a police officer, a doctor saying everything had to be left where it was until the investigation was over. She did not seem too broken out about her sister's sudden death. Did seem interested in covering her tracks. Cold blooded. December 26, 1990, the day of Tammy Himokos funeral. Tammy buried near her home in Victoria Lawn Cemetery, a soccer ball carved on her tombstone, along with the words, you were loved so very much. And now you've gone away. Memories will keep you near. We miss you every day. Then early in the new year, the autopsy results arrived. The report notes just a small amount

of alcohol in her blood, although Tammy had been violated both angely and vaginally. The autopsy had noted nothing about that in his report. Not sure why that evidence wasn't uncovered. Maybe since rape was not suspected, you know, she just wasn't examined that way. Or the autopsy just didn't want to reveal sexual details of her life to her family, no idea. The only aspect of her death, the authorities still found suspicious was the red mark on her face, but it wasn't much they could do. Detectives with an agri police force a review the report decided Tammy's deaths with an accent, no foul play suspected.

Paul and Carla had gotten away with murder for now. January of 1991. Carla moves out of her parents' house and she and Paul began looking for houses to rent. Fuck yeah, why not moving with the dude? You just helped kill your sister with. The dude who helped, you know, you, or the dude you fucking helped kill your sister

so he could rape her. Gotta stay on track for raising a family with a sick fuck. Paul and Carla find a cheery Cape Cod style house in Port Delusy, baby draw on baby drive. It's signed a $1,200 a month lease for a year. By this time, Paul has quit his accounting job, has moved full time to his cigarette smuggling business. So his long-term future really never looked brighter. I mean, come on, when you quit a good accounting job to smuggle cigarettes, you're on a great life path. Deadly innocence, making almost daily trips across the border, port to Lucy, only about five, six miles to

US border right near Niagara Falls. The introduction of a new tax in Canada, the goods and service tax is proving good for his business because the cost of a pack of cigarettes had gone up to just over $5 with no shortage of customers. Bernardo making at least $1,000 a week tax-free. Carla seems happy. Finally has some good news in my life. She wrote to some friends, Paul and I are moving in together. Yes, we'll be living in sin.

We've got a beautiful house in Port Delusy. It's an all-new kitchen and white. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a jacuzzi. The master bedroom is pretty big. There's a huge walk and closet and plenty of room for my furniture and my hope chest. I fell in love with the house and so did Paul and we saw it.

It's got a fireplace and central air. There's a big, back yard and green window shutters. It's really going to be my house. Chilling words from someone who had just participated in the murder of a sister weeks earlier, just a few weeks. As soon as they moved in, Paul and Carla went out to buy furniture, washer and dryer, coffee tables, chest or fields, area rugs, put everything on Carlos credit cards. Also, planning their wedding booking one of the nicest hotels and nearby and I aggr on the lake where they plan to have more than 100 guests. Tammy, of course, would not be able to make it because she just been fucking raped and killed

by her sister and future brother-in-law. March 1991, Paul has a bachelor party in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I also as a honeymoon in Hawaii coming up. Who cares about what happened to tamiya is a living his best life meanwhile for three months after the last of the two hundred and twenty four bodily fluid samples have been given to the center of forensic sciences by march scientists

uh... there had still uh... not begun dna testing the government funded facility just did not have enough staff they're getting further further behind on their testing They have a backlog of murder cases taking priority over rape cases looks like it might take years for the DNA from rape cases to be tested Also in March Paul buys a new book American psycho just came out and he fucking loved it Found it very inspiring quickly becomes obsessed with it On June 7th 1991 Karlin vites invites a 15-year-old girl.

She'd be friends at a pet shop two years earlier for a girl's night out. Paul still loved a 15-year-old. That fantasy didn't stop with Tammy. After an evening of shopping and dining, Karla gives the girl some booze laced with Halsian. Why not? It's not like anything went wrong the last time she drug someone. And the girl loses consciousness. Karla calls Paul, tells him he has a surprise wedding

rift gift at home. Uh, Jesus Christ. She's fucking monster too. Paul now video tapes Carla raping this girl first before he sexually assaults the teenager himself. The next morning the teenage girl nauseated but thought her vomiting was from drinking alcohol for the first time did not realize she had been sexually assaulted. Probably just thought that when you drink too much it makes your your Butthole and your front butt hurt. Next crime would be just a week later. Lea would be just a week later. Early in the morning, June 15th, 1991, Bernardo detoured through Burlington halfway between Toronto and St. Catherine's to steal license plates. There he came across Leslie Mahaffey, a 14 year old girl now who, uh,

you know, 14 instead of 15 who had missed her curfew after attending a friend's wake and gotten locked out of her house. Paul left his car, approached Leslie, saying that he wanted to break into a neighbor's house unfazed. Leslie asked if he had any cigarettes. Paul said, yes, let her do his car. Once she was reaching, you know, in reaching distance, excuse me, he blindfolded her, forced her into the car, drove her to a port to Lucy. Then he called Carla reported that he had another victim, you know, for them to play with. Paul and Carla not even drugging their victim this time, let it, letting her consciously

experience the terror now. Constantly pushing things further and further. I'm sure Paul is American psycho obsession, not helping in this regard. The pair of videotapes themselves torturing sexually abusing Leslie while they listen to Bob Marley and David Bowie. At one point, Paul says, you're doing a good job, Leslie. A damn good job. Then he adds, the next two hours are going to determine what I do to you.

Right now, you're scoring perfect fucking two hours on another segment of tape. Paul satanizes Leslie while her hands are bound with twine as she cries out, begs him to stop. Of course, he doesn't. Her screams just turning them on more. Again, she is 14 now really, unfortunately, for her, her blindfold starts to slip off. She can see her attackers and possibly identify Paul and Carla.

So after they're done sexually torturing her late that night, they think about how they should handle this unexpected twist. Not a 100% clear exactly what they decided. Paul will later claim that Carla fed Leslie a lethal dose of Halsian now. Carla will later say that Paul strangled the girl. I believe that one. Either way, she's murdered, then they put Leslie's body in the basement. Very next day, the homoco family comes over for dinner, they all laugh it up,

fucking chat it up like nothing was wrong. After the homo goes leave, Paul and Carla decide to dismember Leslie's body in case the body parts and cement. Paul buys a dozen bags of cement at a hardware store the following day, crucially for police later, he keeps the receipts, like a fucking idiot. Those would become important pieces of evidence.

Using his grandfather's circular saw, Paul dismembers Leslie after the cement sets, Paul and Carly make several trips to Lake Gibson, a lake about 11 miles south of Port Duluthi. One of the blocks is too heavy for them to carry out the water. So these two fucking idiots just leave the 200 pound hunk of cement with body parts inside on the shore. What's the point of even taking it to the lake?

I'm just gonna leave it on the beach. June 29th, 1991, Michael Dussett, his son Michael Jr. walking along the shore of Lake Gibson. They see a big hunk of cement that deadly innocence and deadly dumb shit left two weeks earlier Two men who had come to Lake to fish start investigating immediately find that you know something's off with the cement hunk They reported to authorities who quickly find out there is a human head inside Ahead with some very specific orthodontic work that will quickly lead them to identifying the victim Same day Paul and Carla have an lavish wedding ceremony near Niagara Falls. It's a big gaudy affair.

Paul has everything planned. All right, he picked out Carlos dress in the end ordered the horse drawn carriage, handled the catering, less a marriage, more for a way for Paul to show off, you know, how he's doing for himself. He's the big man with a young, beautiful bride. He completely controls.

Carla is a static. She's the Barbie doll, and her murderous Ken is going to take care of her. Little over a month later in August, the two dirt back newlyweds violate the that unnamed teenage girl from June. Again, they asked her to come back over to port Delusi to spend the night. Again, they drug her. And like with Tammy, the girl stops breathing as Paul is raping her. Carla then calls Carla, then calls 911 says they need help. But a few minutes later, calls back and says

everything is all right. Ambulances called off. Apparently the girls survived. They'd got their victim breathing again. And then they take about six months off from rape and murder. Maybe at least they took about six months off from any known rape and murders. They'll be back at it the following spring. During the after-school hours of April 16, 1992, Paul and Carla drive through St. Catherine's to look for new potential victims. As they pass Holy Cross secondary school, a Catholic high school, in the city's north end, they spot yet another 15-year-old girl student, Christine French, walking briskly to or nearby home. I'm sorry, it's Kristen, Kristen French, not Christine.

They pulled into the parking lot of a nearby Grace Lutheran Church. Carly got out of the car, mapping hand pretending to need help with directions. Kristen came over, looked at the map while Paul snuck up behind her. When she looked up, all she saw was Paul branching a knife. Scared for her life, she gets into the front seat of the car. Carly slides into the back, pulls hard on Kristen's hair anytime she struggles. Once again, they take her back to the house, torture her and rape her.

Over Easter weekend, the couple videotaped themselves, abusing Kristen. And one scene, Carla forces Kristen to drink a large amount of alcohol before Paul rapes her. She really, according to those who witnessed the video footage,

does not seem like a victim going along to appease her murderous and abusive husband here. She seems really into this shit. That or Sunday, Carla and Paul murder Kristen before heading off to yet another family dinner at the Mokas sneaking in another, you know, little raping murder before going and hang with the fam. Like with Leslie, Paul will later say that Carla did the actual murdering by beating it with the rubber mallet and strangling her. Carla will say that Paul was the one who strangled Carla.

We'll never know for sure who led the murderous charge. However, mallet and strangling her, Carla will say that Paul was the one who strangled Carla. We'll never know for sure who led the murderous charge. What we do know is that poor 15 year old Kristen strangled with the news around her neck. I'm gonna say Paul did it. The news secured to a hope chest after she died. Carla strangely fixed Kristen's hair, then the couple dumped the nude body in a fucking ditch in Burlington,

a half hour drive from her house. Meanwhile, Kristen's parents had known Sondo was wrong. From the minute she didn't get home on Thursday afternoon, normally Kristen took the same round home every day a 15 minute walk, got home quickly so she could walk her dog. When she didn't arrive, her parents convinced it's something bad had happened. They notified police within a day, the Niagara regional police service has assembled a team search, Kristen's route

found several witnesses who said they'd seen the abduction take place. Kristen, of course, would not be found alive. Her nude body found April 30, 1992. Her remains found only a short distance from where Leslie Moffie was buried, the 14-year-old who's blindfold slipped off while she was being raped, before she was killed. Investigators noted that Kristen's body had been washed and her hair cut off. They also wondered if there was a connection between Kristen, Christian, French's murder and the murder of Leslie. Acting on an anonymous tip that Bernardo had a pension for violence and aggressive sex,

police interviewed him on May 12, 1992. Once again, dismissed him as a prime suspect, though, and what we're now being called a two school, school girl murders of Southern Ontario. Wonder who called in that tip, maybe Carol, that ex-girlfriend he abused, maybe Lucy, the other ex-girlfriend he used? Deadly innocence now getting real nervous about getting caught. He and Carla now may have stopped raping and murdering between this crime and their future arrests. Or maybe they just heard others whose bodies have never

been found. Moffe's remains exhumed medical examiners found bruises on her back that had similarities to the blunt force injuries on Kristen French's body. Niagara Regional Police working with the Holtin Regional Police established a special task force, a task force to conduct the investigation into the two crimes. July 21st, 92. A reenactment of Kristen French's abduction shown on TV generates thousands of tips but no substantial leads. January 6, 1993.

Paula, or, I keep on calling Paula because it's always Paul and Carla right afterwards. God damn it. Paul beat Carla with a metal flashlight. So really bruising her and landing her in the hospital. She was released after insisting that she had been in an automobile accident, but suspicious friends of hers alerted her aunt and uncle that foul play may have been involved. Wonder why they didn't alert her parents. They just feel that those two were too fucking clueless to do anything? I mean, so much had already happened under their roof. Paul was arrested and charged with assault with the weapon released on bail.

Cristina after, or Carlis, excuse me, after this beating, which was some kind of turning point in their relationship. She would never return to the couple's house in Port Delusi. The demon she helped others to be demonized by, finally really turned on her at teams. Did he want her to help him rape and kill again? She refused. We don't know. A month later in February, the center of forensic sciences would finally turn up a DNA match for the Scarborough rapist. A DNA sample taken from Paul turned up as a match

he has put under surveillance. Then February 17th, 1993, Paul Bernardo arrested for the murders of Leslie Maffy and Kristen French as well as many of these Scarborough rapes. Not connected to Tammy yet. And the days that follow, police interrogate Carla for four days. Of course, she blames everything on Paul Tammy's death. Right now he's going to get in trouble for that. The kidnapping of Leslie, the murders, she says both girls were used as sex slaves before Bernardo strangled them. She also included a disturbing detail that Paul made. Kristen French, watch a television news broadcast of her dad's emotional plea for her safe return before sexually assaulting her further. That seems like something inspired

by American psycho. And to top it off, Carla claimed that Paul had boasted to her about raping at least 30 women. I don't doubt that number a bit. Again, I think it could have been, you know, close to 100. Carla played the victim big time with authority. She described herself as a battered wife who was forced to participate in Bernardo's crimes, which she hated. She lived in terror of him. Then some evidence would come in that would fully disprove that bullshit assertion. Unfortunately, it would not come to light for a while, not in time for her, for what should have been dealt with her justice wise. Three months later, May 6, 1993, Bernardo's lawyer retrieved six eight millimeter tapes that have been hidden in the Bernardo home. These tapes will not be turned over to police,

though until September 22nd, after Carla is given her plea deal. Fuck that attorney. I mean, did a good job for his client, the fuck that guy. The tape showed in graphic detail the rape of Tammy and the torture and rapes of Leslie and Kristen. On July 6, 93 as part of her plea bargain with prosecutors, Carla is convicted after pleading guilty to two counts of manslaughter and the majafi and French murders. She ascends to two 12 year prison terms to be served concurrently, so really she served to one 12 year prison term. When the tapes come to light, September of 94, people are fucking outraged, as they should have been that Carla had given such a

comparatively light sense. On the tapes, she strongly appeared not as a frightened force participant, but as Paul's happily consenting, equally sadistic and enthusiastic accomplice. By this time, the case is dominating national headlines, capturing the attention of people in the US as well, depressed, gives them the moniker of the Canon Barbie killers. News of the tapes, you know, prompts, obviously, public outrage, the media accuses the prosecution of making a deal with the devil with Carlos sentencing. However, the crown says it was obliged to stand by the agreement it had made before prosecution and seen those tapes.

Jerry selection for Paul's trial begins May 1st, 95. Just over two weeks later, the crown opens its case May 8th. That's not how two weeks work. May 18th. There we go. I was like, what the hell am I talking about? Seven days like, no, May 18th. The trial lasts four months during which Carla Humalka spends a full 17 days in the witness box. And now let's just cut to the verdict. We know what these two fuckers did. So December 1st, 1995, Paul Bernardo found guilty of all charges against him.

Two counts, each of a first degree murder, kidnapping, forcible confinement, and aggravated sexual assault, one count of committing indignity to a human body. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, declared a dangerous offender making him ever getting parole highly unlikely. Carla's lawyer, Ken Murray, who initially retrieved the tapes from their hiding place in Bernardo home, he's charged in 1997 with obstruction of justice

and conspiracy to obstruct justice for failing to turn those tapes over in a timely matter to police. Good. Unfortunately, he has acquitted of those charges in 2000. Bad. Fuck that guy. Also in 2000, both the Ontario Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court of Canada turned

down Bernardo's efforts to appeal his murder convictions. How the fuck yeah, could he ever get an appeal ridiculous? 2006 Bernardo's lawyer, status client, had confessed in 2005 to 10 additional sexual assaults. Not sure what his motivation was there. Maybe thought if he gave some more family's closure, it might be proof of him being rehabilitated and he might get parole. Sure, his motivation was not to be a good person. Since 2013, deadly innocence has been incarcerated at the Mill Haven Maximum Security Prison in Bath, Ontario. Since 2013, Carla has been free. Uh, JK. No, she's been free since 2005.

Carla released from a carousel race. Yeah, 2005. She came out with the bachelor's degree in psychology. She's able to get that in prison. Also in prison had a long term sexual relationship behind bars with

an inmate who identified as a man or letters to her family about her role in Tammy's death, blaming it all on Paul while she's in prison. Never once apologized. Her family other than her mother from what can gather, have never spoken to her since video of Tammy's rape, you know, came out as evidence. She is dead. De Papa, velvet Elvis reporters who interviewed Tammy while in prison did not give any favorable

assessments of her award-winning globe columnist Margaret went, wrote, nothing has changed. Concepts of remorse, repentance, shame, responsibility, and atonement have no place in the universe of Carla. Perhaps she simply lacks the moral gene. After her release, Carla settles in Montreal, gives birth to a son in 2007, leaves Canada soon thereafter, moving to the Caribbean island of Guadalupe, takes the name Leanne Bordele, along with her new husband. T, T, oh my god, Tieri, the brother of her prison lawyer, Sylvie Bordele. Yeah, Tieri Bordele.

It's her husband and soon she ends up with three children. After all that, she got what she always wanted. She got a new candle. She got to be fucking beach Barbie. And with her husband, three kids, probably drove a pink convertible and everything. For several years, this family of five lives in a tropical paradise, how nice. 2012, after being discovered in Guadalupe by Canadian

journalists, Carla and the family returned to Quebec, where they still live. Now, 51 Carla continues to receive backlash for what many in Canada have dubbed the worst plea deal in Canadian history. After her release, neighbors began a Facebook page titled Watching Carla Homolka, in an effort to track her whereabouts.

In 2017, Carla made the local news in Montreal when they found out her kids were attending a seventh day at Venice school, and she was hanging around and volunteering on field trips. She tried to sue the local news for harassment, defamation, but her case dismissed. The exposure based on some interviews did not endear her to the parents of other kids.

I bet not. I hope this should haunt her publicly for the rest of her fucking life. She deserves that in so much more. 2018, Paul Bernardo's application for parole after 25 years in prison is denied after just 30 minutes of deliberation. A lawyer on behalf of the victim's family is reported, there's never been an apology by Paul Bernardo. There's been never any indication whatsoever of remorse.

Of course not. Deadly innocent doesn't apologize for shit. A lot of people were outraged that he is even fucking eligible for parole in 2018. He is currently 57 and with that, let's hop out of this timeline. Good job, soldier. You've made it back. Barely. I have some final thoughts on these dirt bags I'd like to share. Before I do, though, we do have one more very important, totally real sponsor.

Today's time-sook is brought to you by the Cleveland Steamers Motorcycle Club. Hey, this is dumb. It's two smart teenagers again. Founder, Godfather, original charter president, for the Cleveland Steamers Motorcycle Club. Doodle me and the boys not wanting to go to prison for murdering a lot of immature people. Flood in our socials, making fun of my name, our club name, and our motto, the Cleveland Stammers, when there's barbarians at the gate, you gotta drop a doose.

We're adding a new slogan that is definitely not feces related in any ways, shape or form. We're not getting rid of anything, just adding another slogan that is now prominently displayed on a new sign for a clubhouse. The Cleveland Steamers murdering brown snakes and punishing the poor slums in 1973. Come on in and blow some mud.

That sounds pretty cool, right? Brown snakes, I don't think I have to tell you what that means, but I will. It's a nickname for a rival gang we have. You have brown patches and a lot of snitches. Amongst our members, snakes. I have to tell you what that means, but I will. It's a nickname for a rival gang we have. We have brown patches and a lot of snitches. Amongst our members, snakes, you know, trash, that's pretty tough. And a porcelain?

That's some area nation fake tough guys on wheels who think they're hard. That's what we call them. And we punish them. We punish the porcelain. And blow some mud. That's just cool guy slang. We're getting rowdy. Do a little spray painting and whatnot.

Feels good to move away from anything that can be misconstrued as bounce from talk. But come on down to St. Clair Superior, behind the old homestead tavern off Norwood. Sirius Ryder's always welcome. And one more thing, it's time to take the browns to the shiver ball. Uh huh. to the shriver ball. Uh-huh. Uh, pretty sure, uh, Tuts is going to regret the choice of Verbids, y'all, uh, on his new sign just a lot of that stuff there. Oh, well, Ken and Barbie killers. What a fucked up story.

Scaryer in a way, then Fred and Rosemary West. While they didn't kill as many young women as the West, they, uh, definitely appeared much more functional, I think, to the outside world, right? Two attractive young people who seem destined to have a beautiful, successful life together with the big house and children. I mean, you know, before they got arrested, deadly innocence was on the verge of becoming Canada's biggest rapper. He could have been Drake before Drake.

Come on! Deadly innocent, rolling in my Nissan 240SX. Painting gold like my bank account, noise, watching flex. Flinging discount, segues to fools at the bars. And we got me trained to take my hustle through the stars. I like the girls in the girls like me. They like it when I'm peeping and I'll beat it by a tree Bush beaten, Bush beaten Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh Speedin lead single. No, I'm guessing he was garbage with his rap. But he was good with business and making people think he was an outstanding young man. You know, Carla was his female, outstanding counterpart.

I think the only reason they didn't rack up the body count of Fred and Rose West is just you know, they got caught a lot earlier. No way. They would have stopped killing as they didn't get caught. No fucking way. I have to imagine had their murder spree lasted another decade or so. They would have had numerous sex slaves tied up in some kind of horrible, horrible rape dungeon young women they would have taken their saddism or sadism, excuse me, to new extremes with Paul consistently wanted

to take his violent fantasies further and further. You know, you always wanted to just keep pushing the envelope. How crazy that Paul theoretically could still be paroled someday. The most punishment you can get in Canada for any crime, life imprisonment with a chance of parole after 25 years. Paul's only 57. Already served more than 25 years. He's not in poor health.

If he was released anytime soon, he'd still have plenty of years in him, or he'd be physically capable of bringing back those old twisted fantasies. And Carla, how fucked is it? So after all that, she's been free for years. Bernardo's lawyer, Ken Murray, said the vide the video tapes he withheld showed Carla sexually assaulting four female victims. Also footage of her drugging an unconscious victim, her fucking sister. But in 2005, after a dozen years in prison, she got out at the age of 35, now has a family,

right? Family she helped rob her sister, remember having a family she helped rob two other young women she helped kill from ever having. How the hell could the brother of her defense attorney right that Terry Bordele how could he ever date let alone marry her and start a family fucking gross Knowing what was on those tapes When someone participates and shit that evil can you ever be good again? I want to say no What secrets might she be hiding now what sexual fantasies are those two acting out?

Guessing their bedroom activities are fucking dark. People can and do change, but when you've crossed the line, she has crossed how much can you really change for the better? Not enough, I don't think. Time now for today's Top Five takeaways. Time suck, top five takeaways. Number one, after their fateful meeting in the summer of 1987 Paul Bernardo Carla homoka would go on to begin a relationship that would first see them carry out the accidental murder of Tammy homoka

After that they escalated to multiple attacks and then the abductions and murders of Leslie Maffy and Kristen French Meanwhile, Paul Bernardo continued committing rapes as he scarbaral rapists, likely with Carla's knowledge, and were assuming her consent. Or did they get framed for all of this? Talking to some family members. It seems that my dad's whereabouts cannot be accounted for when a lot of Paul's crimes occurred. Later, when a lot of Paul and Carla's crimes occurred, or maybe did some other dads do some or all of that. Since the crime writing, since the

excuse me crime fighting organization, Dad watch, was around back then, who knows who's dad might have actually been responsible for some of the crimes attributed to two non-dads, Paul and Carla, neither one of them a dad. JK, but you knew that. Number two, Carla and Paul, I wanted to call the Carl and Paul out there. Carl and Paul both wrote some really shitty poetry and rap. It's almost like being a violent sociopath leads you to having some really disturbing,

but not that deep or interesting thoughts. Look at you as well, Mark Twichel. Too bad Mark Twichel and Paul can't be cellmates, right? Mitchell could give feedback on Paul's lyrics and deadly innocence could help Mitchell with his scripts. Number three, Carla Hamulka. Struck a pleaded with prosecutors, only served 12 years in prison for her role in three rape and murders and additional rapes where the victim lived.

This is because the camera footage that showed her participating in the attacks was not given to police until over a year after she was sensed. She was led out of prison in 2005, seemed to have had a normal low profile life since with the husband and three children, but what's really going on behind closed doors with her? Number four, Paul Bernardo, sends to a lifetime in prison with the possibility of parole. Eligible first for parole in 2018 denied. Let's hope he continues to be denied the next time he is up for consideration. Number five, new info back to American psycho. Did you know the Christian

bail showed up in character for his first meeting with the books writer, Brett Easton Ellis. Apparently, Christians acting so unnerving. Ellis asked him to stop. Also got Christian the part. Regardless of what you think of the book, the movie has definitely lived on as one of the best dark satires of the 20th century, one of the seminal representations of 80s consumer culture. Time, suck, tough, five takeaways. Can and Barbie killers have been sucked? Yet another wild ass true cramp tail. Thanks for listening to the show, all of you who do week after week and rating it and

spreading the suck to family, strangers, friends, co-workers, total strangers, greatly appreciate all the posts on social media and the word of mouth. You keep the train moving. Thanks. Thanks to the bad magic productions team. That beat's still going on my head though. Or all the help making times like every week. Queen of Bad Magic Lindsey Cummins, Reverend Dr. Joe Paisley, Sophie Evans for the initial

research this week. Cracked me up how much Sophie hated Carla in her notes this week so much. Very hateable. Thanks to Bitelixir for keeping the time stock app running smooth, Logan Art Warlock Keith, our creative director, creating all the merch at badmagicmerts.com, running socials with Liz, the Enchantress Hernandez, who runs our cult and curious Facebook to private page,

my gosh, private Facebook page, along with her wonderful all-seeing eyes moderators. Thanks Liz, so many different time stock unofficial, official groups out there as well. Ran by all kinds of people. Thanks to beef steak and his mod squad, keeping the meat stacks happy on Discord. Now for a question.

Do you like hip hop? What do the snails like gas to? The Tennessee Wildman, the Worreline Wimpus, Devil Monkeys, and whatever the fuck a sheep squashes all have in common. Besides, maybe not existing. They're all Appalachian cryptids. And among many other Appalachian cryptids, they're what we're covering this next week.

And yes, I do prefer that pronunciation over Appalachian. Next week, we do not have a real holiday themed episode, but we do have another fun one. Our Patreon Spaces have voted in another interesting topic. We'll be diving headfirst into one of America's most interesting cultures. That of the Appalachian Mountains, which stretch from New York all the way down to Georgia. The most people say that Appalachia as a culture exists primarily in parts of West Virginia. West Virginia. Mama, mama, Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, Maryland, Mississippi, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia.

Appalachian culture, well known for many things. Food, bluegrass, also, folklore. Created from mixture of European, Native American, biblical influences, Appalachian folklore spans everything from stories about folk heroes and frontiersmen, to spooky tales and ghosts and mystery, and of course cryptids. heroes in frontiersman to spooky tales of ghosts and mystery and of course cryptids. Siding to cryptids date all the way back to native folk legends about moon-eyed people really took off when settlers began arriving to the area in the 1700s. Toonin next week for over three centuries the mysterious siding is in one of the most fascinating places in the US and now let's head on over to this week's timeucker updates. Since the Hell's Angels, Suck was last week, let's start out there for with our updates.

Griff Hayes' dad has another good story for the rest of us meat sacks. One about a great societal role the H.A. sometimes plays. Here goes. Greetings General Suck Lord Cummins. You previously read my retelling of my father's Warren Jeff story on the H.A. sometimes place. Here goes. Greetings, general suck Lord Cummins. You previously read my retelling of my father's Warren Jeff story on the show. Well, I have a story about the hell's angels from him as well. In the summer of 2013, there were two major forest fires near my hometown in Northern Arizona. The second of which is the context for this story, a company hot shots, firefighters

for forest fires from my town was dispatched to Yarnel, Arizona to fight the fire burning there while they were doing their job. the wind shifted and the flames surrounding them, surrounded them in a box canyon. 19 members of the 20-man crew perished. Jesus. We only one who had been separated from the crew earlier in that day surviving. Learning about what had happened was like a punch in the gut to the whole community. The story is depicted in the movie only the brave. And while I haven't ever seen it, I've heard good things. I do think they would make a good suck subject because I know you can tell their story in a way that nobody else could. Anyway, I'm getting off track. By a way, nobody else could, do you mean like with a solid beat? A couple little week of Tuesday actually to have that beat.

A couple weeks after they passed, there was a mass memorial service for the 19th of the arena and the town next town over. My dad worked off duty security for the service. This is where his story comes in. Naturally, being a memorial service for 19 men who died in a freak accident doing their jobs, who else but a Westboro Baptist lunatic shows up to protest. Of course, they fall under freedom of religion and freedom of assembly, so security and police have to leave them be, but they strategically placed them across the street from the arena. So he's out there doing his thing

and guess who else happens to show up that afternoon, a group of hell's angels. I don't know what they were doing there, probably wanted to pay their respects if I had to guess, given their weird twisted code of honor, but they couldn't help but notice Mr. God is mad across the way. I do not want to make these evil bastards out to be heroes at all. I want to make that perfectly clear,

but these fuckers beat his ass. And when I hear that story, it's hard not to giggle with the thought. I want to make that perfectly clear, but these fuckers beat his ass. And when I hear that story, it's hard not to get go with the thought. I love it. I've also heard about instance involving the HA in another town nearby in the past. There are a horrible organization, but the day, but that day, they at least picked on another piece of shit. And from what I understand, pretty much everyone looked the other way. Once again, I want to emphasize that the HA or not the heroes of this story, that would be the 19 brave souls who laid down their lives protecting the community from an astute bastard of a natural disaster. May the rest of peace.

They will never be forgotten. Sorry about the length of the email, lol, no, I'm not. My dad and I are coming to one of your shows in Tempe, next April, cannot wait. Hail Nimrod Praiseful Jango's Glorby to triple M and hail the granite mountain mother fucking hot shots. All the best, Griff, PS, please give our regards Reverend Dr. Paisley. We went through a similar situation this past summer

with my maternal grandfather. I can't even scratch the surface of what he's going through right now, hanging there, buddy. We're all rooting for you and your family. That's very nice, Griff. I'm sure Joe, appreciate your words of encouragement very much. Also, I love your dad's stories.

Really love the collision of the Hell's Angels and the WBC. How great law enforcement can go after those zealot hate mongers, but the H.A. Can. I hope more of that goes on than we know about and see you in Tempe. Next up, a reminder not to fuck with outlaw motorcycle gangs. In an anonymous sack writes, hello suck master, I've been listening to the latest episode on the Hells Angels. I thought I'd write in about my run-in here in central Iowa with the different club, the sons of silence. So back in 2015, when I was 18 years old, me and a bunch of other friends, about 20-30 of us had crotch rockets, rode around my city a lot after dark in the summer just goofing off. One day a guy in a Harley flies past us, tells us to pull over. So we do just to see what's up.

Now, there's about six of us at the time. We noticed he was wearing a SOS and a 1 flies past us, tells us to pull over. So we do just to see what's up. There's about six of us at the time we noticed he was wearing a SOS and a 1% patch. He was nice to us, but he was pretty adamant that we do not ride side by side, but rather staggered formations so we don't look like an MC. Few days later, we're being told by another SOS member that we need to change our Facebook group name

because it was the area code followed by writers. You know, example, one, two, three, four, five writers. And that represents kind of an ownership over the area. Then the same night one of my friends decides to post in the group that these sons of silence can suck my dick. And boy that started some shit. Now we're getting threats. They're telling us to take down the Facebook group and various members start following us around the city whenever they see us looking for the one that's made the suck my dick post. The friend that posted actually lived about four houses down for me and they found out where he lived. I can hear members of SOS riding by his house at night revving their bikes.

They actually told another one of my friends that the only reason they didn't kick in his door is because he lived with his parents and they only wanted him. Well a few weeks later, one of the members catches up to him while he's at a taco bus. They pull up, deliver some real heavy hits on him, then hop back on their bikes and ride off. Within 30 seconds, my friend is laying on the ground and they're gone. The member that hit my friend said as he was leaving that this was not the end of it. My friend had two black guys, a busted up lip, loose tooth, said he felt like his nose was broken.

I think the only reason they stopped messing with us after that is because that same guy that beat up my friend was arrested just a few weeks later after he beat his wife nearly to death. Coffs found a bunch of meth at his house, guns, he was not allowed to own because of he's a felon. I have no idea if he's still in prison, I have not ran into any member since. We learned real quick to never fuck with an outlaw motorcycle club. LOL.

Love you all, bad magic. Hope you have a wonderful holiday. Three to five stars. Well, thank you for the reminder. Yes, do not fuck with these guys. They are not afraid of violence, often not afraid to go into prison. So many stories like this out there, they will kick the shit out of you for disrespect. Happy holidays to you as well. And now let's sneak in a quick shout out. Sweet sucker, Carly

person writes, damn, my boyfriend, Kristoff absolutely loves every listing to you, diving to all these different topics. Every week I hear the same question. Have you listened to insert episode on Timesuck yet? For Christmas, I got into Chickatilo T-shirt. I'm giving him cash to become a space visitor for 2022. Wondering if you could complete my Christmas package by saying hi to Kristoff on one of your episodes.

You would make his whole year, even if you don't, we will continue to enjoy your podcast, hail Nimrod Carly. Well, thank you for being a great sucker, Christ off. Thank you for listening to this show. I hope it flows into your ear holes. Hope you have a great holiday. Hope you enjoy the sea with suck pay day. That was a fucking, that was a fucking freestyle. I'm getting pretty good, come on. Come on. It's not the worst. Uh, thanks you as well, Carly.

Hail Nemanati both. Hope you enjoy the Secret Suck, Christoph. Over 200 episodes of So Much Weirdness. It's a wild ride. It'll be over 200 episodes by the time you start listening. Last message now. Throwing things back to the Menendez Suck. Family, story, sharing, sack, E and Steven's rights. Dan Jo and team. I was listening to the Menendez brother Suck when

you said that through the 70s, Jose Menendez wasn't executive at a hurts. This peaked my interest because my grandpa worked at a hurts for almost 50 years. That's crazy. From age 17 until retirement, retiring is one of their vice presidents. This included working there through the 70s, which got me thinking, is there a chance he knew Jose Menendez? So the next time I talked to him, I asked him if he did, and he replied, oh yeah.

As the time my grandpa was not quite at the level Menendez was, but was on the way to getting there. And Menendez was his boss's boss. This means that my grandpa would be in meetings fairly regularly with Jose Menendez. Most interesting part though, is that he said that Jose was a super strange guy. He didn't really elaborate much, but seemed to think that Manetta's was an off-putting weirdo. He even said,

quote, I'm not surprised they killed him, which prompted my grandmother to slap him on the shoulder and say, stop, don't say that. Anyway, just thought that was an interesting connection. Enjoy Ian Stevens. Thank you Ian. I'm not surprised they killed him. Yeah. I have a lot of doubts about the Melastation claims, Lyle and Eric made, but I do believe their claims have been an asshole. Crazy your grandpa was regularly in meetings with him. I wonder if he followed the trial.

Thanks for sharing that. Thanks to everyone who sends in messages to Bojangles at Timesuckpodcast.com every week. We love hearing from you Thanks again for listening to another bad magic productions podcasts meet sacks Don't ask your lover to let you look at a picture of the sibling when you have some sex this week They don't masturbate next Next to said, sibling. While they sleep, either.

That is super fucking creepy. Just leave them alone completely. And keep on. Keep on sucking. Toss Are you excited to hear that beat again? I can keep rapping until 10 10 your time of my time is hard to tell what time it's gonna be when you're rapping so freely When you got the flow when you are done with deadly in a sense, but you're rapping so freely, when you got the flow, when you are done with deadly innocence, but you're still gonna go.

Do some more rapping, maybe I'll do some clap, clap, clap, clapin' and rapping. Yeah, nope, I'm so pretty good, I can keep rockin' that beat, you see, I can rap so, it's excellent lead, that rhymes, I can't- And let me down!