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I have been listening to the Martha's Vineyard Beach and Book Club, which actually Elena recommended to me.
She did not listen to it, but she said, girl, this title sounds so you.
And let me tell you, it did. I've been listening to it while I walk, and I am absolutely loving it.
I love all the different narrators. I love Audible.
There's more to imagine when you listen.
Sign up for a free 30-day Audible trial, and your first audiobook is free.
Visit audible.com slash morbid. On November 13th, 2022, four University of Idaho students were murdered.
Today, finally, the true story. Based on over 300 interviews, in their own words, family members talk about their heartbreak and grief.
Students and townspeople describe that terrifying night.
Police detail the dramatic investigation and arrest of Brian Koberger.
You've never read a true crime like James Patterson and Vicki Ward's The Idaho Four.
The true story, it's finally here. Hey weirdos, I am Ash.
And I'm Elena. And this is Morbid. Morbid Listener Tales Edition.
Brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you, baby.
Woo-hoo. Woo-hoo. If you're listening to this, I think that the holiday season is, like, coming.
Is it coming? I think it's, like, the day before. the holiday season maybe so maybe we don't know when anything comes out so you know what happy holidays everybody because we're so far ahead you know we're trying to record these ahead of time so i don't know i think it's gonna be like you said like the day before the holidays are hidden Or it might have already happened.
But you'll find out. You'll know where you are at this point in your life.
Either way, you're going to have a great time or you had a great time.
And I hope you did. I know it. She's manifesting.
Manifesting. Manifesting. We just. recorded a buffy uh rewatcher episode you gotta fucking yeah first of all you gotta listen to that yeah and then second of all you gotta watch buffy if you haven't because i feel so remiss in my life right now honestly watching ash get so excited about it it's been so much fun It's so good.
We just watched School Hard, which is when Spike shows up.
Which is my episode, everybody. I was saying in the episode, you should go listen, but I was saying that Elena over-promised, but the episode over-delivered.
Exactly. So it all worked out in the end.
But this isn't the re-watcher. This is morbid, and it's a listener tale.
We're pretty fucking excited to hang out with you guys right now.
Let's let's do this deb deb got together a whole bunch of good tales for us and this one has a baby yeah this one has a baby do you want to start or would you like me to uh you can start with this one what yeah the ghost the pigeon and my unborn baby sounds like you want to start no i'm just kidding you're like well what the fuck All right.
Well, let's start with that one. It says, Hello, ladies.
I am stoked to finally send this email. I've thought about sending this in for some time, but honestly just couldn't find the time to sit down and type it all up.
That's probably like it has to do with the baby, I feel.
I would think so. Well, I just put the babe to sleep.
My four-legged friends are curled up next to me.
Wow, I'm so jealous. I want that. Sounds lovely.
And I've been listening to listener tales all day, so call me inspired.
Inspired? I have attached a 12-point font, double-spaced putt-a-fuh that takes about nine minutes to read.
Oh, look at you guys. The fact that you guys are timing these out now is like my favorite thing.
I hope you enjoy listening to this lighthearted tale as much as I've enjoyed living it.
I've attached pics of all the animals, my boyfriend and I, and obviously the bebe.
The bebe. The bebe. Feel free to share any pics of the animal.
Sunny is the kitty, Mumford is the Dalmatian, and Chonk is 100% purebred good boy, aka a mutt.
Purebred good boy. I love it. Oh my god, you two are beautiful.
Truly. What? Truly garch. Like, what in your animals in your bebe?
Oh, I was like, where are you seeing them?
Cuties. Oh my god, love. Oh, the Dalmatian, the cat, the baby.
It's beautiful. That little baby is the cutest little baby.
I want to boop its head. Oh, my God. I am booping it in my mind.
Oh, my God. Those cheekles. I love it. Also, it says XOXO Riz.
Use that shit. No anonymity here. Hell, yeah.
I did it. Did it. Listener tales. The ghost, the pigeon, and my unborn baby.
Hi, ladies. Feel free to use my name. It's Riz.
Riz. That's a cool ass name. I'm not going to sit here and go into great detail about how much I adore both of you.
Just kidding. You guys are absolute queens of morbidity, morality, and malice.
That's a good one. I love that. And I cannot explain how much I enjoy listening to your banter and tips to avoid being the subject of one of your episodes one day.
Thanks. I've been listening for about two years, going through periods of binging several episodes a day at times, but took a hiatus over the past three months after my son was born because as scary as humanity was before, that shit gets way more intimidating when you're trying to keep a beautiful, perfect, helpless sack of skin and bones alive.
So true. I could see that. All of a sudden, everything is so much scarier.
I know. I say that to Alayna all the time.
Like, the pressure you must feel. Oh, yeah.
Because, like, you made that. Yeah. And you have to, like, really take care of that.
And it's, like, responsibility to take care of that, but also this, like, primal need to take care.
It is, like, an overwhelming, like, I will lay down my life and die for this thing.
So, like, I really don't want to have to, but I will.
I will. That kind of thing. I felt that way about the girls before, but I can't imagine how that feeling will change when, like, it's my own kids.
It's wild. Because I'm like, if I feel this strongly about, like, protecting them, I can't imagine how I will feel about being a mom.
Like, one of your kids came home with, like, a shitty story from school today, and I was like, I'm going to hurt someone.
Yeah. I would never, but. Yeah. Anyways, but mama was not pleased with a little boy in class.
Mm-mm. Just saying. Yeah, we're not going to get into details.
We're not going to get into details, but, uh.
Fuck you up. But. i'm coming for you and for anybody who thinks i'm being serious because that's happened before are you serious yeah the world is weird man and there's been people who are like she says she like bit up kids who are mean to her kids i'm not gonna fuck up a kid like calm the fuck down the funny thing is too i'm the one that said it but you'd get the shit for it but you know what here i'm coming for you little boy Okay.
Leave them waiting. But not really. Okay.
But really. I'm scared. I'm fucking serious.
But alas, I just couldn't stay away. This mom is like, I gotta go.
But alas, I just couldn't stay away. And the past week has been spent catching up.
It's been amazing. Also, if you read this, I will literally pee on myself.
But don't worry. I'm probably wearing a pad because I now pee a little every time I laugh, run, cry, cough, sneeze, etc.
Just mom things. I also know that to be true.
And that's not something I'm ready for. Honestly, at that point, you're just like, all right, I guess I pee now.
People say that a lot. Yeah, nothing really bothers you after childbirth.
Yeah, I mean, can't imagine anything would.
You're like, well, I pee now. If I think too much about childbirth, I have to leave sex.
Let's get into it. There's a lot of backfill to this story.
So bear, bear, push the mark with me. I never know the difference either.
I don't know. Grammar's hard. Until we moved into the house my mom and stepdad live in now, I grew up moving every year or so due to my dad's job.
Thanks, Navy. Hey, my dad too. Mine too.
And my grandpa because it's the same person.
The house is an 1856 antebellum farmhouse, and we moved here when I was in seventh grade.
It needed a lot of work, and we spent the holy hottest hell days of Mississippi in July renovating this place.
Wow, that's horrific. Over the course of 166 years, this house has been around.
It's served many purposes. It was a post office during the Civil War, housed many families as an inn and many more generations along the way until my dope-ass family took over in 2006.
I wish you would see my arm movement. That's badass.
That's wicked cool. While we were renovating, we were all sitting on the steps of the front porch, taking turns drinking out of the hose, when a 90-year-old man marched right through our front yard, stood with his hands on his hips, and stated, I was born in your living room.
Iconic. Which was now our kitchen, and that image haunted me through many a family dinner.
I was born in your living room. I wish I could say that to someone.
That's awesome. I'm just gonna. Get it. Let me start by saying that my mom is a badass and probably wasn't much of a believer in the paranormal before this home.
She wasn't closed off, just didn't have much to go on.
But as soon as we moved in, before the renovations began, my mom walked through the whole house, room by room, and introduced herself to anything or anyone that lingered.
Newsflash, spirits aren't the biggest fans of change.
No. I did that when I moved into my house, too.
Yeah, you can't record things. I am a spirit.
You are. Over the years, we heard plenty of unexplained noises, glass crashing upstairs with nothing broken or disturbed upon investigation, cabinets that tipped over on their own, or the sounds of beds moving with no one in them.
Not sure what the ghosties were up to at those times.
Oh, this is spicy. Ow, ow. No bad vibes ever came from this.
We all felt like we were buds. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't blame the ghosts for the night that I snuck out and back in and my mom woke up to the back door slamming.
Shout out to the ghosts if you're listening.
We love that they covered for you. They're listening with AirPods right now.
They're like, mm, I got you. They're like, mm, that was me.
No problem, Riz. No. There was no fear, and her friend couldn't explain away what she'd seen and stated she felt crazy but knew what she saw.
I don't want a ghost to sit on my bed. No, I don't want that either.
Like, I understand that your bed was in this room at one point, but this is not your bed.
Yeah, this is my bed. Get out me bed. Yeah.
It's important to note that we don't just go on advertising our ghosts.
If people ask, we will tell them about the noises, but wouldn't mention other people's experiences.
Sometime within the next two years, my stepdad's sister and brother-in-law came to visit.
My aunt has never met the friend with the first experience, but after several nights, she awoke and asked the exact same question with the exact same story.
Wow. Of course not. Wrong. Fast forward to 2019.
Badass. Well, we didn't even plan that.
Oh, wow. And look where she works. Had gotten my first job as an RN in the neonatal intensive care unit at a children's hospital in Alabama.
You are a badass. A goddess. I had had my dog Mumford for about three years and decided that he needed a companion during those 12-hour shifts.
So I adopted a cat and named her Sunny. I've attached some pictures because duh.
Thank you. One weekend, I packed up the four-legged farm, fam, and headed home to see the human fam.
Mumford always sleeps under the covers, and Sunny roams and sleeps wherever Her Highness sees fit.
We were staying in the downstairs guest room.
Dun, dun, dun. Uh-oh. Mumford was in his usual place, taking up 90% of the bed, and I was out cold.
Uh-oh. I'm a very light sleeper and woke up when Sunny hopped up and laid at the foot of the bed.
But when I opened my eyes, she was very content and deeply sleeping on the mantle on the old fireplace in the room.
And you guessed it. A light silhouette of a short stout woman was seated at the foot of my bed.
I don't know how to explain the feeling.
I was stoked and also almost peed on myself.
I think the fear came from the surprise of it all because there was absolutely no bad energy coming from homegirls.
When I woke the next morning, I promptly told my mom, and she asked if I believed her now.
Apparently, this was a woman from some three or four generations before we bought the house and was known to be a quiet and strict woman.
She kept the house very clean, and that's about all we knew.
She was clean, quiet, and strict. I mean, imagine if that's just all you're known for, just being clean, quiet, and strict.
Well, already on numero uno and numero dos, no.
No. me cleaning quiet neighbor i'm messy and loud and not strict no no maybe someday but maybe i don't know but i don't know i don't know all right stick with me the backstory is fun but it's the best but but this is the best part fast forward one more time to december 2021 when my amazing boyfriend and i had just gotten back from traveling around europe for a couple weeks jet setters We spend the summers working our asses off on Martha's Vineyard.
Yes, baby. On the vineyard, Ken. On the fucking vineyard.
Shout out Massachusetts. We're a vineyard family.
Hell yeah. My friend worked on the vineyard for summers.
That's funny. I wonder if you know her. Marissa.
I'm not going to say her last name. That's badass.
Yeah. So he deserves a good break at the end.
Yeah, I would say so. I digress. You don't even have to.
No. We had come back from Europe and were visiting my mom and stepdad in Mississippi.
The house sits on 23 acres and my mom jokes that there must be a neon sign floating in the sky that states, come here to die.
We've had five cows, three donkeys, Bozo, Jen, and Tonic.
Of course. Two horses, Gracie and Nima. Yes.
Six Great Danes and several street dogs, chickens, and a turkey.
Wow. All of which were rescues. No joke, my mom snuck onto our neighbor's property at midnight after he had been evicted by his own family and rescued this turkey that he'd left behind.
She's an actual angel on earth and every animal that crosses her path is better because of it.
Yes. All that being said, it just feels like animals just know that this is a safe haven and come here to live out their days.
I'm obsessed with that. It's like magic, I feel.
That is magic. Yeah, wherever that is that you're living, it's magic.
Wow. On the day we arrived, a pigeon appeared in our carport, and it was odd because it just lingered for several days.
What the fuck? It was like, hey. It was apparent it was malnourished and had no tail feathers, deeming it incapable of flying away.
It had a band on its leg, and my mom was committed to finding out where this pigeon came from and returning it to its quote-unquote home.
But after managing to catch the pigeon, identify the company that banded it, a racing pigeon group in Louisiana, and being told that they did not want the pigeon back.
That's rude. My mom knew she had adopted her newest rescue to the farm.
We named him Pidge. Side note, I love looking into the symbolism of animals that appear repeatedly or randomly.
Oh, me too. Weird that we're reading this right now because I did that this morning.
Yeah, you're right. That's weird. Yeah. Creepy.
Well, when I looked into what it means when a single pigeon appears to you per Google, quote, pigeons are symbolic of fertility and prosperity, fortune, luck, and transformation.
We joked with my mom about her being fertile and went on with our days.
The next morning after a fun night with my boyfriend.
Yeah, yeah. Judge me for messing around at my parents' house.
A girl's got needs, okay? I would never judge Riz.
Never. Everybody does it. Literally. He woke up and casually asked over coffee.
Have you guys ever seen anything weird in the house?
Jesus. Jesus. Christmas came and went, but my period did not.
We found out that I was pregnant the day after Christmas, and when looking back, the only time that little homie could have been conceived was on the night we saw the ghost and the week Pidge came to us.
I'm obsessed. Pidge had seamlessly, uh...
Assimilated? Yeah, I don't know why I couldn't say that.
Into the chicken coop and was living his best life, fattening up and growing out that little tail of his.
Aw, Pidge. He would graze with the chickens in the afternoons and perched with them at night.
We thought he had found his forever home.
Slowly, he started flying again. First in very short spurts and then in small circles around the house, gradually getting higher and higher.
Until one day, February 10th to be exact, he flew in circles and never came back.
Aw. This was also the day of my first OB appointment.
And the first time we heard our little dude's heartbeat.
Oh, my God. I love this. That is symbolic as fuck.
This is wonderful. We can't help but believe that Pidge came into our lives as the best little omen and only stuck around until he knew his job was done.
As for the ghost, I'm sure she knew and we are thankful for her presence.
Our son was born three months ago and is absolutely perfect.
He sure is. He has two four-legged brothers, Mumford and Chonk, and I've added their pics below.
Feel free to share any pics you want of the dogs.
Thanks for listening and I hope you do actually keep it so weird that you go on to live in a chill ass haunted house where the ghosts have your back through your hood rat shit teenage years and see you through your first born child and also so weird that you get to live on a farm where animals come to retire and give you signs about your future.
Bye! Riz! I love that and your family is so beautiful.
The cutest little fam. The cutest little nugget.
I am so glad that Pidge told you about your little baby.
I know, right? I'm so glad. So beautiful.
Oh, I just love it. I do too. Oh man, Riz, I love you.
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The town of Agde in France is famous for sun, sand, sea and sex.
But lately, life on the coast has taken a strange turn.
The town's mayor, a respected pillar of the community, has been arrested for corruption.
His wife claims he's been bewitched by a beautiful clairvoyant.
Then there's the mysterious phone calls that local people have been getting.
I am the Archangel Michael. the whole town has been thrown into chaos.
As the mayor is unable to carry out his duties, I would like to address you all.
Legal proceedings have been initiated. Join me, Anna Richardson, and journalist Leo Schick for The Mystic and the Mayor as we investigate a story of power, corruption, and magic.
Binge all episodes of The Mystic and the Mare exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.
Start your free trial in Apple Podcasts, Spotify or the Wondery app.
All right, what am I going to read next?
Let's see. The Time I Stabbed a Home Intruder with Tweezers.
Yeah, that'll do. Does that sound cool? Yeah, that sounds pretty badass.
Sounds pretty cool. Okay, and it is Corey, and it's okay to use your name.
Yay! Howdy ho! From what I've gathered from listener tales.
Did you just get, like, super southern? Maybe.
You said, from what I gathered. From what I gathered.
From listener tales. It sounds like a double-spaced put-a-fuzz.
Appreciate it. So I have attached all details in such format.
Thank you. I thought you were really going to keep going.
I'm not going to. Thank you, Corey. It's a tad long, but it comes with twists and turns that are all imperative to the plot line.
And whenever I tell this story, people are left speechless.
So I hope it's worth it. Thanks so much for the time and energy you put into everything you do for your fans and listeners.
And I'm sending all the love and light to the Morbid family.
Aw. Thank you so much. That was so sweet.
Corey. Love and light right back at you.
For real. Howdy, squirrel friends. You can use my full name in this story since my name and face are already in an ABC7 news clip about it.
Smiley face. There you go. Before jumping in, I must include the obligatory thanks for the work that you both put into the pod and your many other projects.
Your stories are so well told and detailed that an hour and a half feels like nothing.
Thank you. This story is long, but each detail is key.
Now about how I stabbed a guy with tweezers.
In 2014, I was living in a part of Chicago near a lot of 4 a.m. bars.
Damn, I didn't even know there were foreign bars.
We're from Boston. It ends real early here.
On one Monday in September, I woke up in the wee dark hours of the morning to the sound of footsteps in my bedroom.
And then you shit your pants. Shit, shit your pants.
I called out to ask if I was waiting for you to finish that.
Oh, my God. Yeah. Why are you in my house?
I don't know. Maybe my roommate let one of my friends in.
But quickly realized this person was not in a clear state of mind because all I got back was groans and mumbles.
Oh, my God. As I started screaming for him to get the fuck out of my house, he slowly began walking around to the side of the bed that I was lying on.
Oh, my God. I hate this. now tmi perhaps but i sleep naked that's okay at this point that's okay that's they it's scientific actually that that's a better night's sleep there you go at this point i'm feeling very trapped because while there was a small space between the other side of the bed and the wall for me to try to escape to my dumb ass thought well i don't want to stand up naked as if this person seeing me naked was the most of my fears no i get that face palm times a thousand no no you did the instead all of the things that my cop uncle had taught his nieces flooded into my brain at the exact right time as this man was literally crawling over my naked body to get into bed with me oh my god i thought look for a weapon within arm's reach i had kept a hammer in my nightstand drawer good for you man for real but by now this guy was fully on top of me and i couldn't reach it What I could reach was a pair of tweezers on my nightstand.
I like to pluck my brows in bed, okay? And they were the really pointy kind.
I know exactly which ones you're talking about.
So I grabbed them and jammed them into his arm as hard as I could.
Hell yeah. Huh. Huh. Huh. As soon as he was out of the door, I closed it, locked it, and called 911 while I finally got a chance to put some damn clothes on.
Like my uncle taught us, I'd been visually making note of his appearance as he came around my bed, so I gave them all his physical and sartorial details.
Wow, you're good. For real. Again, this was a two-story apartment, but the stairs were those rickety metal spiral stairs that clang when you walk down them.
And I never got the hang of them. But I had heard this guy walking down them after he left my room like it was no problem.
The second thing that made me think something was really off here.
Yeah. That's when I remembered my roommate downstairs.
Still on the line with the 911 operator, I started to head downstairs, thinking this fucker must have left by now if he had any sense, because he would have heard me calling the police.
I called my roommate that someone was in the house and to lock her door while I went and checked the locks.
You're a badass for going out there. You really are.
I am very light sensitive and can operate in the dark easily, so it didn't bother me turning the lights on when I went into the front and back hallways.
Or I didn't bother turning the lights on.
So I didn't bother. Sorry. I didn't bother turning the lights on when I went into the front and back hallways.
Well, that was the second dumb thing I did that night.
Because when I reached for the back door's lock, there he was.
No. Standing there. Just huddling in the corner by the door.
What the fuck is this guy doing? I stabbed him again.
Icon. I love how you wrote, I stabbed him again.
You were like one small. Stabbed you again.
Roommate opened her door, yelled for me to come in.
We barricaded ourselves into her room until we heard the cops radios in the gangway outside the window.
The police came in through the back and since the back door was always locked, he took that to mean the man had finally fled and left the door open.
Nope. When we finally felt safe enough to come out, there were two cops, an older veteran standing there waiting for us to come out, and a younger one that was questioning the dude in the back hallway.
Oh, my God. Yeah. They caught the guy I described perfectly and in detail as he was coming out of our apartment.
I listened in on what they were saying, and it was immediately clear that this dude was fucking gonzo out of his gourd.
Yeah. When the cop asked what his name was, where he lived, and why he was there, he couldn't even give his name or address.
And all he kept mumbling was, I'm so tired, I just want to sleep.
Like, go to your own house, dude. It looked like he could barely stand up against the wall.
Like, did he have head trauma? What was going on?
I think he was just, like, zooted from the 4 a.m. bar.
Maybe. The younger cop eventually came in and took my statement while the veteran did a walkthrough of the place.
That's when the younger cop asked, what's in your hand, miss?
I was still holding the tweezers, complete with a small spot of blood at the very sharp point.
The cop laughed and then said, I'm sorry, it's just that I'm fairly new and I'm seeing tweezers as a weapon for the first time.
And then I laughed too. I told the cop my story and he asked his questions.
Did he hurt you? Did he grab you? Did he appear to have a weapon?
Do you know if he took anything? Did you feel like you were in danger?
Did I feel like I was in danger, dude? Like someone's in my fucking house.
I was naked and he was crawling over me in bed.
Yeah, I felt like I was in a little bit of danger, dude.
Yeah. No, I felt great. I felt like it was going to be story time.
Like what? Yeah, right? Now, here's where the story really deviates from most home invasions.
I told the cop, no, I never felt unsafe.
What? What? Yes, you did. And that was true.
What? Looking back, even when he was crawling into my bed, I knew somewhere in my lizard brain that he wasn't trying to assault or rape me.
It truly did seem he just wanted to go to bed.
And the only reason I stabbed him was to get him off me.
Okay. Wow. You're kind of badass. You are.
I was like, wow. Wow. His charge was criminal trespassing.
Fast forward to the court proceedings. This is already wicked long, so I'll breeze past the part where he showed up to his first hearing in North Face and jeans without a lawyer and the time when he declared he would be breaking bail to visit his partner in California for Christmas to skip right to the actual trial, because by now I'm sure you're all wondering what the fuck he was doing in my bedroom at 4 a.m. on a Monday.
Yes. His side of the story goes as such.
He was working as a nurse at a hospital.
Immediately, no. He had stolen some drugs from said hospital to go to party at 4 a.m. club a few blocks down the street.
The fuck? You stole drugs from the hospital.
After closing, he was too tired to go all the way home, so instead thought, I'll go crash at my ex's.
Yep. When this random dude was crawling into my bed in the middle of the night, he thought he was crawling into bed with his ex.
How did he get? How did he get in? You ask?
My fucking ass twat of a landlord never changed the locks.
And this dude had been given a key by his ex, the previous tenant.
Oh, the way that I would literally sue my fucking landlord.
I don't know for what, but wow. Wow. It all made sense then.
He came through the back door downstairs that we never lock.
He had no problem getting down those rickety metal stairs because he had done so many times before.
Holy shit. And he was confused as to why he was being stabbed because he had come and crashed at his exes like this before.
Presumably without getting stabbed twice.
Presumably. His lawyer also argued he couldn't have been in my bedroom to commit a crime, rape, assault, because he was gay.
And a gay man couldn't possibly hurt a woman.
A defense my gay ADA did not take kindly to.
But the judge agreed and he walked. No drug course, no supervision, no probation.
Oh my God. god i cried in the chambers for a half hour because i just couldn't believe this person who was caught leaving my house while high on drugs he had just stolen from his job at a hospital was getting off with no punishment yeah like what the fuck precedent does that set as i've said i know he didn't mean to hurt me but it felt so wrong he could cause so much harm with no repercussions that's the thing it's like he learns literally the only thing he learns from this is that nothing's gonna happen that's fine that you did that But my mother reminded me he would probably never work as a nurse again, especially not after I got the story on Chicago's ABC News and website, so it's forever burned into the eyes of the internet.
And most likely had quite a lot of explaining to do to his partner in California, who is just now learning that he was regularly crashing with his ex in the middle of the night.
Sucks to suck. My supermom also took the initial news of the event like a champ she is.
After I told her, she burst into tears and I assured her I was safe physically and emotionally.
But she said through sobs, no, it's not that.
It's just that I'm so proud of you because you're a fighter and not a flighter.
And I've carried that with me in scary situations ever since.
I'll leave you on a funny note, because this happened at 4am by the time the cops left, and I was coming down from the adrenaline rush, it was about 6.30am, which is about the time I would get ready for work.
At this point, I did not feel safe in the house while my landlord finally went about changing locks, so sure, why not go to work for the distraction at least?
So I got on the train to work, I happened to be 10 minutes late, which made for a perfect entrance.
What happened? You're never late. We were worried.
Oh, so sorry I didn't text. I stabbed a guy this morning after he broke into my bedroom at 4 a.m., so I was dealing with the cops and all that.
Wow. And then slapped my police report down on the desk for dramatic effect.
I'm obsessed with you. To this day, if someone starts giving me shit or causing me trouble, my friends will warn them quite deadpan.
Be careful. Corey once stabbed a guy. And that, my pod friends, concludes the best dinner party story I have ever had.
Take good care of yourselves, Corey. I would say you too, but you do.
You do, but I'm not worried about you. No, Corey, you got it.
You're a G. Corey, that's fucking great.
What quick thinking you had. For real. And I'm glad you had it.
Because whether you were scared or not, a man crawling over my naked body in my bed in the middle of the night is...
That's going to bring me some fear, so I'm pretty proud of you.
I'd be living on fear street. Yeah, I would too.
Damn. My goodness gracious. You guys are wild.
My goodness gracious. My goodness gracious.
All right. My next listener tale is called a wholesome spooky morbid listener tale.
And it's size. And it's size. And it's size.
I have to zoom in. Give me a sec. Hey, weirdos.
I have attached the usual, a double-spaced putt-a-fuh.
I think that's how you spell it. You can spell it however the fuck you want.
Yeah. For your reading pleasure. Before y'all get into my story, though, I wanted to say thank you, ladies, for keeping me entertained while I work in a smelly old garage with my husband and one-year-old son.
If y'all decide to read this on the podcast, I'll probably cry happy tears as I've been listening to y'all for quite a while and now finally worked up the nerve to send in a listener tale of my own.
But anywho, thanks for all y'all do. I hope you enjoy my little tale and can get past all my bad grammar and run-on sentences.
Trigger warning, this story does mention suicide.
Thanks. Thank you for that. And that was really so nice of you to say all those nice things about us.
Oh, and you can use your first name. And I can use your name.
Shelby. She. Shelby. Drink the juice, Shelby.
Shelby. Sorry. You probably get that a lot.
Hey there, you lovely ladies. My name is Shelby.
Feel free to use it along with all the other names in this story.
Shelby. Shelby. I'm from a town that's so small you've probably never heard of it.
This teensy little town is located in the Appalachian or Appalachian, depending where you live, mountains on the very tip of North Carolina where Georgia and Tennessee meet.
It's a party. Geography. Woo! Hey! Now, when I say small, I mean... She malfunctioned real quick.
I was like, uh-oh, glitch. Small. When I say small, I mean population of just over 500 small.
Whoa. Our nearest Walmart is over 45 minutes away, and our only decent hospital is just over two hours away.
Oh, my God. Not a fun car ride when you're eight centimeters dilated about to push a kid out, you hoo-ha.
Uh, no. That's terrifying. No, not fun. So much birth.
That stresses me out. Anyways, this is the type of place where everyone knows everyone, and finding a spouse that you're not related to is quite difficult.
I know, that must be a feat. Yeah, that must be tough.
Like most of the older generation in this town, my great-grandparents, Ruth, a.k.a.
Nanny, and Malcolm were farmers. They grew tobacco and raised cattle on their hundred-acre farm.
They had five children together, one of which they named Oteza.
Oteza! I love that. After Odessa grew up and got married, she and her husband, Mike, bought some land right next to her parents' farm.
They built a house there and had a life and a family of their own.
I feel like this is beautiful and it's not going to be.
Yeah, something's going to happen here. It's wholesome, though.
Yeah, super wholesome. Several years later, on Christmas, my mama announced to the whole family that she and her husband will call him Drunk Daryl if he were needed to be mentioned again in the story anymore, but he isn't, so I'll hush.
Yeah. All right. They were expecting their first child.
Odessa, my mom's aunt, was ecstatic. She told my mom she just knew it was going to be a girl, and she almost immediately began making hand-sewn dresses and blankets.
Aw, Odessa. That is so sweet. As my mom grew further along in her pregnancy, she learned that Odessa was right, and she was in fact having a little girl.
Surprise, it was me. It was you? It was you, Shelby.
Whoa. So when I was born four weeks early, only time I have ever been early to anything, Odessa was one of the first to come see me.
Shortly after my grand entrance into the world, the whole family gathered at Ninny's farm to celebrate her birthday.
We held most of our family gatherings at their farm because Malcolm had built a covered picnic area that was just perfect for sitting outside during the warm summer months.
I love this. It's so wholesome and I'm so terrified.
Yeah. On this day, my mom hardly got in the door before Odessa rushed up to her and scooped me up.
Like every other time she had got to hold me, I was asleep.
Odessa plopped down in the chair in the corner of the room, and there she stayed that entire day, just holding and rocking me, the little girl she had always wanted.
As the party dwindled down and everyone headed home, Odessa reluctantly handed me back to my mom and said, Now, Miss Julie, this baby is going to grow up and never getting to see her Aunt Odessa.
She's always asleep. Mom just laughed at her and put me into the car so we could go home.
Now, before I go on, it's important to note that Mike, Odessa's husband, had served some time in the army.
He must have experienced some pretty awful things during his time because he suffered from severe PTSD and depression.
Oh, I'm sorry. Being from a small rural town, mental illness was not something that was talked about, much less mental illness in men.
Men in this area were taught to never show emotions, be tough, suck it up, and provide for their families.
But when Mike's PTSD began affecting his career, he decided to seek treatment at a mental health institution upstate.
Good for him. Yeah, he deserves that. There, he received treatment and was sent home a few short weeks later.
But I mean, most treatments back then were about as effective as a smack on the ass.
Yeah. They did prescribe him some kind of medication, though, but he believed it just made his depression worse, so he stopped taking it shortly after returning home, of course.
Okay, now back to the story. A few weeks after the family gathering, Mike's symptoms began to worsen.
He asked Odessa if she should take him back to the mental health institution, that he really needed help this time.
As the caring wife she was, she agreed to take him, but because it was such a long trip, they would have to wait until the end of the week.
Mike left work early that next evening, claiming he didn't feel good and just needed to go home.
He called one of the local sheriff's deputies to come sit with him until Odessa could get home from work because he just didn't want to be alone.
This is hurting my heart. I want to hug Mike.
The deputy came and sat with him throughout the evening.
I'm so happy that he did. joking and laughing about their good old high school days.
Odessa arrived home that evening and everything seemed fine.
She called Ninny, her mom, to let her know that she would be gone early in the morning, not to worry that she was just going to be taking Mike back upstate.
Nini woke up the next morning and saw both Mike and Odeza's vehicles still sitting in their driveway.
She thought that maybe he had just changed his mind about going back, and like any good mother would, she went to check on her daughter.
She knocked and knocked, but no one came to the door.
She figured maybe they had just overslept, and because their bedroom was in the back of the house, they just couldn't hear her knocking.
She walked back to her house and tried calling their home phone.
No answer. Her heart began to sink. She called the sheriff's office and asked them to come do a welfare check.
While she waited for the police, she called my grandma and mom to let them know that something was wrong and they needed to come to her house fast.
My mom met the ambulance at the bottom of their road, and because the lights and sirens were turned off, she just knew that everything had to be fine.
Probably just a misunderstanding, right?
Sadly, she was wrong. When she rounded the corner and pulled up into their driveway, she quickly learned the real story.
When the police had arrived, they couldn't get anyone to answer either.
And with the pit in her stomach rising, Ninny had asked them to bust in the door.
Inside their master bedroom, they found both Mike and Odessa.
Aww. Mike had shot and killed Odessa that night while she slept and shortly after killed himself by the same means.
Wow. Oh my god, that breaks my heart. Ugh.
Ugh. And if I had not been born early, Odessa would have never gotten to see me either.
Wow. Wow, my whole entire body. Oh, I literally like chills everywhere.
I'm so happy that she got to see you. This is like making me want to cry.
Seriously. A while later, my mom had gone back to Mike and Odessa's old home to look for some pictures.
She let me down on the floor to play while she searched around their house.
She could hear me laughing and playing, so she didn't think anything of it when I got up and started walking around too.
Their old bedroom door stayed locked, so there was no harm in me being the nosy kid I was just wandering around.
After some time, she found what she was looking for, so she started to go down the hall to get me so we could go.
To her absolute horror, she found their bedroom door wide open.
What? She ran into the room, scooped my little ass up, and out the front door we went.
Later that day, mom asked me what I was doing in there anyway.
I told her how the nice lady had opened the door and told me to come in and sit with her.
Oh, my God. I'm going to, like, cry right now.
Seriously. I'm not even joking you. I went on and on about how I thought she was beautiful and was just so sweet.
Mama's jaw nearly fell in her lap. Fast forward, and I'm now a very proud mama myself.
I love getting to hear stories of the gorgeous lady that I never got to know and just how much she loved being in the show.
Oh, my God. Seriously. That sounds amazing.
Yeah. As we approached Odessa's grave, I turned to my friend and said, I wonder if I'll see her again one day.
You know, I was too little to remember the time I saw her at her house.
No more than the words had left my mouth, the biggest shooting star I'd ever seen burst out of the night sky.
It glowed so bright and different shades of purple, blue, and pink chased it across the top of her tombstone.
Well, I think you just did, she said a little too sarcastically.
Oh, my God. That was beautiful. Seriously, this is making me want to cry.
We both laughed and joked about how the star definitely had to be her for the rest of the tour.
I secretly wished on that star that night.
Oh, my God. You're going to kill me right now.
Oh, my God. Stop. I wish that one day I could have a little girl too.
One that I would- Oh my god. Stop it. One that I would proudly name after her.
Lo and behold, a few short weeks later, my husband and I found out that we were expecting our second child.
I have a feeling that it's going to be a little girl.
Wow. You're literally making me tear up.
Elena's tearing up and that's crazy. Holy shit.
Wow, that was beautiful. I'm so happy for you.
I hope you enjoyed my wholesome, spoopy little tale.
And I've attached a picture of Odessa holding me at the family gathering.
I saw her and she was absolutely stunning.
Oh, and what a, like, sweet lady. That's a beautiful photo.
I have several more stories, including one about how a murderer kept my husband from taking me to the hospital when I was in labor.
Please share that. Another about a hellhound that roams a different cemetery here.
Tell me about that, too. Anywho, I hope you keep it weird, but not so weird that...
Your family's not as wholesome as this, listeners.
Are you joking me? I... I think you gotta keep it.
Like, oh my god. I love Odessa. I do too.
What a sweet looking... And that is the picture of her actually holding you at that.
And look how happy she looks. Oh my god.
She's just like the sweetest looking lady.
She has the kindest eyes. She does. And the most beautiful hair.
And you can tell she's so happy holding you.
She is. Like, oh, wow. Thank you for sharing that one because that was beautiful.
That was really beautiful. And I love all the baby stuff happening in this episode.
I love it. I know. Deb, Deb. Deb, Deb. My goodness.
Hey weirdos, we need to tell you about something that has completely blown our minds, collectively.
There's a new show called Lawless Planet that's uncovering true crime stories so massive, they're affecting the entire planet.
Post-Zach Goldbaum is investigating real cases where environmental destruction meets murder, conspiracy, and cover-ups.
We're talking about activists who disappear in the Amazon rainforest, whistleblowers who risk everything to expose deadly corporate secrets, and communities being silently poisoned while powerful people profit.
What makes these stories truly terrifying?
They're happening right now. This isn't history.
It's a massive criminal conspiracy unfolding in real time with consequences that affect us all.
Each episode feels like opening a case file into the darkest corners of corporate and government power.
Trust us. Once you start listening, you will not be able to stop thinking about these stories.
Follow Lawless Planet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
You can listen to new episodes of Lawless Planet early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+.
All right. I don't think this one's going to be as wholesome.
I'm going to end on the time some freezer burnt steaks almost got me killed.
Okay. Okay. All right. All right. A precautionary tale to not be so kind to strangers on the internet.
I think, yeah, definitely everybody remember that.
Well, hello, ladies. Hi. My name is Jordan, and you are absolutely welcome to use my name.
Hello, Jordan. Hey, Jordan. This here is a double-spaced and 14-point putt-a-fuck explaining how some freezer-burnt steaks legit almost got my 19-year-old-at-the-time-ass murked.
Oh, no. No joke. I've sent in this tale once before, but I cringe reading it over, and I truly feel I could do my trauma better than that, you know?
So. I'm well aware that you guys will never shorten a tale, so I won't even bother with apologizing for the length.
We shall hop right on into the singing of praises for you majestic, sometimes spooky and kooky, wonderful humans.
I love it. Hi, I love you. I love you too.
I love you. I discovered your podcast during the initial lockdown of 2020.
You know, the time we all decided to try out new hobbies that we haven't gone back to since returning to a somewhat normal work and life schedule.
Yep, me too. I started taking my swing at sewing again, and you guys got me through endless hours of poking my fingers with a needle and pure ADHD-driven creativity.
Remember when everyone was making those whipped coffees?
Yes, everybody. I just never made one of those again.
I never got to do it. Oh, I did it, but I never did it again.
Yeah, you didn't. I don't know how much your podcast.
Yeah, you didn't. You didn't do it. I didn't know how much your podcast would mean to me at the time, but I've listened to every episode at least three times over.
And you guys join me on my hour long commute to work every day.
I knew I was feeling a little extra tired.
Oh, you're a professional body piercer in Cincinnati, Ohio.
What a badass. That's awesome. That's wicked cool.
Shout out to my coworker, Wendy, who is also a huge fan of you guys.
What's up, Wendy? Wendy! I basically get paid to slap some sparkles on people four days a week and clean bugs out of people's noses.
I love it. Can't lie. You guys recently covered some spooky amusement parks near me, and I just want you to know from this day forward, I'll pee myself every time I happen across a small wandering child at King's Island.
Good. For Ash, I'm also a Gemini. June 2nd, baby.
Oh, a June Gemini. And you are very close to me in age, so I feel like we are bonded in some weird astrological sense.
We are. We are. Elena, you are the dark and dreamy mother figure I never knew I needed.
I love that. That's beautiful. I am so sorry for the loss of your purr baby.
Thank you. I just want you to know I fully believe Bailey is ghost cuddling you and your littles and making sure your otherworldly house guests stay in line.
Me too. I fully agree with that. Me too.
Thank you. You both have gotten me through some hard times and I feel it is so important to let you know how much I appreciate the time and effort you guys put in this.
The work never goes unnoticed. Wow. Thank you.
Thank you. You are truly some badass ladies.
It's okay to be human and take the time you need to exist.
So please never feel like you owe us listeners anything.
We love you all the same. Now that I've gotten all the sappiness out of my way, here's my listener tale.
That was like really kind of you. Like you have no idea.
We've been like... We've been in a really good groove with like getting ahead of episodes and stuff.
Oh, yeah. But we were in a spot of really feeling like overwhelmed because.
Yeah, we were in a funk. Yeah, we were in a real funk and like things like that really just got us going.
So it's so true. It means a lot and don't think it doesn't.
And we really, really appreciate you guys saying stuff like that.
You guys really, you really do keep us going.
It's like not one of those things that you just say.
It's true. Like it really is true. So thank you so much.
We love you. But at the time of this tale, I was 19 years old and had just gotten out of a fairly rough relationship that left me out of touch with my family and friends for months.
I'm sorry. I was very young and naive, thinking jumping headfirst into a fast-moving relationship would get me out of a toxic home environment for good.
Boy, was I wrong there. I'd moved back into my parents' home for the time being as I was getting things aligned for a place of my own.
The apartment I ended up with was a really old house that had been split into three separate living spaces.
It desperately needed work, but it was affordable and close enough that I could walk to work.
The walls were flaking, cabinets falling apart, and my front door did not lock.
This is an important detail to remember for later.
I had a feeling. I honestly am not even sure how it was legal to have me move into a space like that, but I set up a deal with the landlord that I would work on the place in exchange for my rent being lowered.
That's not a bad deal. Not at all. Not a bad deal.
In the town I lived in, it seemed fairly safe.
Again, I was very naive and just excited to have a place of my own.
I got comfortable pretty quickly and began working in the kitchen.
I stripped old paint from the walls and painted the cabinets a cute pastel green color.
I hadn't really even begun to tackle the gross old appliances that I needed to make salvageable and figured the fridge would be a good place to start.
This is a good point to mention. The landlord himself had lived in the apartment up to a couple of months before I moved in, and I had found much of his things lying around.
I don't like that. I was given the okay to do with any found items as I pleased because the landlord was getting older and had collected quite the hoard.
Okay. While cleaning out the freezer, I noticed tons of T-bone steaks and other frozen meats, expensive cuts and all.
Amen, brother. A-fucking-men. Amen. But I figured it was food that potentially could be very helpful to a person or family that needed it.
That was very nice of you to think that way.
I was so kind. I decided to make a post in the yokel yard sale page on Facebook.
God, fuck the Zuck. In that godforsaken platform, offering up the food to anyone who might need it.
I got a message from an older woman later that evening who said her son would be very interested in taking some of the steaks and other found foods.
I agreed to meet this man at my apartment.
I can already hear you guys yelling about how terrible of an idea this was, and I know.
You were 19. But in my defense, his mother told me he was a man with a wife and children who had unfortunately fallen on hard times.
That's what she wanted you to believe. Again, I'm a sap and easily swooned.
So I felt safe. Safe. So I felt safe and not particularly worried about our upcoming interaction.
We agreed to meet up later that evening, and his mother sent my address and contact info his way.
I go about my day getting dressed in some sweatpants and a tank top, ready to meet a friend to go do some grocery shopping of my own.
I arrive back home a little while later to meet this mystery man for the frozen goods.
I'm unloading my haul when a small white beater car pulls up in front of my house.
A middle-aged smaller man gets out of the car and approaches my door.
He introduces himself as the son of the woman I had spoken to earlier, and I invite him in.
He appears to be a kind, well-likened, and talkative guy.
I explain how I came across my wealth and stakes, and he expresses how thankful he is, saying his family will also be overjoyed.
I pack up some of the food into bags for him to take, and he asks if I have a restroom he can use.
Uh-huh. I point him through the living room to the back bathroom and he returns within a couple minutes, smiling and continuing his thanks as I hand him the bags.
He walks back out to his car, loads up, and leaves while waving goodbye.
A very pleasant experience at the time. The whole interaction lasted maybe five minutes total, and I continued about my evening.
I'm so nervous that there's like a hidden camera in your fucking bathroom at this point.
About a week goes by, completely normal.
I managed to hand off the rest of the leftover food to some co-workers and continued my usual 19-year-old routine, aka drooling over a cube but not even worth a second glance of my time.
A second of my time guy who I scurried to at the drop of a single thoughtless, hey, text message.
Sigh. We have all been there. All of us.
I was just about to say we have all been there.
At this point, it is Saturday evening and I'm just getting out of work.
I worked long shifts at the bar and grill on the weekends.
I smelled the fryer grease and spilled chicken juices.
Oh, my God. We do have a lot in common. Yeah.
What the f- Fuck. A pushover, I tell ya.
A true pushover. Fuck it. I even ordered a pizza for myself and got comfortable making a Parmesan cheese crumb palace in my bed while watching Ghost Adventures.
That's a great fucking night. That's an evening.
And I have a feeling that it's gonna get ruined.
Yeah. Nothing quite as entertaining as a man wearing mid-2000s buckle bedazzled cross jeans antagonizing some probably centuries old demon.
Am I right, ladies? Yes, indeed you are.
Nothing. The time was nearing 2 a.m. at this point, and I was beginning to fall asleep when a very loud bang startled me, and I immediately shot straight out of bed.
The loud noise came from my kitchen. That's right, my friends, the same room where my very rickety front door that didn't lock sat.
I heard rattling and other noises as I turned my phone's flashlight on and slowly began tiptoeing to the kitchen.
In my head, I'm praying that maybe it's just the wind rattling my door, even though it was very calm evening and I hadn't heard anything earlier in the night.
As I entered the kitchen, there was a figure of a man halfway stepping through my front door.
And my fight or flight senses immediately kicked in.
Hell yeah. I rushed to the door, not really thinking at the time about the chances this intruder may have a weapon.
My eyes immediately recognized the face in front of me.
It was the same man from a week ago now wobbling his way into my apartment in the middle of the fucking night.
The fuck? He was very obviously inebriated.
Another theme. Yeah. I could smell the alcohol coming off him as he leaned back and forth, reaching his arms towards me.
Ugh! I couldn't stop thinking about you, he says.
I couldn't stop staring at your breasts.
I really couldn't. I had to use your bathroom to get myself together, he slurs.
I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop. Kill him. murder that man his hands grab onto my arm and i feel his eyes as if they are unwelcome as if they are unwelcome frigid fingers caressing my skin i am full-on panicking at this point i yell that he needs to leave and he is not welcome in my house no no no i keep asserting as we struggle for a moment and he keeps he continues to try and push his way inside the way that i hope you crushed his fucking wrist in your door yeah Thankfully, his intoxication worked in my favor and he lost balance for a split second, trying to wobble more inside of my home.
I took advantage of this chance and shoved as hard as I could, knocking him just outside the door enough to slam it in his face.
Good for you. Yeah. I didn't even care that the door wouldn't lock him out.
He did not know that. I'm panicking as I'm trying to figure out my next move.
My front door might not lock, but there is one door in my apartment that will.
The basement. I ran into the basement and locked myself in.
I collapsed onto the stairs and sobbed violently to myself.
I can't even imagine. Oh, God. Time is of the essence.
And even as I cried, I could hear this man shaking on the doors and windows above the apartment above.
The fuck? Fuck. I truly believe he was trying to find another way in to get to me.
Same. He was. My hands were shaking as I dialed 911.
I was so panicked I didn't even know how the operator could hear what I was saying between my sobs and labored breathing.
She assured me that officers were on the way and to keep myself locked in the basement until I heard an officer yell for me.
I spent what felt like an eternity locked in that damp and completely dark basement.
My phone's flashlight was my only source of light and the operator was my only comfort.
In perfect timing, a notification from our earlier mentioned hotshot came across my screen saying thanks for the pizza and we should quote unquote hang later.
Not a great time, bud. Not a great time.
Also, get your own fucking pizza, loser.
I love our earlier mentioned hotshot. It got eerily quiet in the space above me and I sat quiet, silently waiting for help.
They finally came. I heard an officer coming through and he yelled that I was safe to come out.
I burst out of the basement, tears flowing and an immediate sense of relief hit me.
I was indeed safe. I was so worried for you that he was lying or something.
I know, right? What the fuck? Yeah. And questioned how I was so silly to let someone just waltz into my house like that.
Yeah, like you just welcomed them in. I'm happy to assure you our relationship has greatly improved since then, and we have come to an understanding regarding that night.
I'm very happy to hear that. Me too. But you needed her that night.
Yeah, she should have been there. I decided to call my friend that joined me the previous week for grocery shopping, and she sat by my side through all of the hard questions.
That's a friend, too. I know it is the police's job to investigate, but what part of a violently shaking and sobbing barely adult girl would ever make you question if this was a consensual experience?
Asking if I'd given this man any reason to believe it was okay to come into my house in the middle of the night.
No. That's not the question you asked. No.
Did I have any previous relationship with this man?
No. Would this man have any reason to want to harm me?
No. These questions continued for a bit, and then I was asked to give a written statement.
I shook the entire time, and my handwriting was probably a mess to translate.
Forever got the pleasure of reading it. I was asked if I wanted to stay in the apartment.
Fuck no. My friend took me to her house and I did not sleep for hours.
I knew this man was gone. Quite literally identified him as he sat slumped in the back of the police car.
But my brain was so immersed in the panic that he would come back for me.
I don't blame you. Of course it was. Oh my god.
What a fucking piece of shit. Right? I was horrified.
Thank goodness for ghost adventures and pizza.
I was horrified that a woman could knowingly allow a man like that, son or not, to enter my home.
Seriously, she should be ashamed. I was so angry and afraid.
It took me months to feel safe sleeping in my own bed.
I didn't attend any of the hearings regarding this man.
I really didn't even care to see his face.
From what I understood, jail time was on the table as well as probation.
I filed a protection order and tried to move on with my life.
On the not horrific and traumatic end of my life, Mr. Hotshot ended up being a piss-poor excuse of a fling, and I stopped talking to him a few weeks later after discovering he was dabbling in huffing paint on the side.
I can really pick him, let me tell you. I met my current partner shortly after.
We were living together within a month because I obviously do not learn.
However, we've been together for over four years now.
Hell yeah. We own four cats and are looking to purchase our first home together next year.
Oh, good luck. I'm so happy. I am too. I removed myself from that local yard sale page.
Nope, not after the grueling events that took place, but because a lady wanted to argue with me about how fast I responded to a KitchenAid mixer post.
That's Facebook. Touch grass. I also moved out of my crappy apartment into a slightly less crappy apartment with my partner.
I hope the door locks. I know. The old building was actually demolished shortly after I left.
Yes, it was that bad. Believable. That is really about all for my listener tale.
I felt like it was an important one for those of you who are like me and life lessons have to smack you upside the head for you to learn anything.
Oh, my God. It's literally a kindred spirit.
Just because someone seems approachable on the internet does not mean you should ever invite them into your home.
Always set up a meeting place that is public and has cameras for any online sale, trades, or freebies.
Know your tenant rights as a renter and never settle for unsafe living conditions.
Lastly, cute boys are not worth lowering your decency and standards for.
Louder for the people in the back. Also, Ash and Elena, if you ever come to Ohio, I'll be the first one there and I will definitely cry again, but happy tears this time.
Keep it weird, but not so weird that. Take it away, Ash.
Not so weird that your mom tells you about a Facebook market sale and you're just excited about steak and you should simply only be excited about steak and nothing else, but then you take it so far that you fucking break into this girl's apartment in the middle of the night when she's just trying to get her pizza and ghost adventures on and you try to assault this woman.
Go fuck yourself. Go fuck yourself. All right?
Okay. christ on a cracker oh my goodness oh what a fucking creeper bruh wow that was outrageous i hated that i felt unsafe over here i'm very upset that you had to go through that but i'm very glad that you are with your partner now for four years and you have tons of cats and you're getting a house retweet and you're awesome i can't even say that what a badass you are i know not retweet uh repost yeah view Say again.
That. Yeah, that thing. But guys, thank you so much for these.
This was like a good mosh mish of like wholesome, scary, weird.
Mosh mish. Mosh mish. It's mish mosh. Thank you.
Mosh mish. I have this thing where whenever somebody says something wrong, I have to hear them say it right or I have to say it right.
It's true. I have to say it right. I've got to do it.
So with that being said, we hope you keep listening.
And we hope you keep it weird. But not so weird as anyone in the bad tales.
In the bad tales. You don't like the ones that didn't go so well?
All right. Love you. Bye. Bye. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music.
Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.
