Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:16):
Hello and welcome my favorite murder the miniso.
Speaker 2 (00:20):
Hi.
Speaker 1 (00:21):
There you go. We're going to read you your story.
I want to go first.
Speaker 2 (00:26):
Sure this first email. The subject line is one winning
bar trivia means outing yourself as a murdering Now hello all.
It will soon be clear that this podcast is very
important to me, so for now I will skip over
the compliments and pleasantrys. On a recent vacation to a
small tourist town, my extended family decided it would be
a great idea to attend a weekly trivia night held
(00:48):
at a bar in town. Once we arrived, it was
clear that we were the only out of towners, so
we tried to discreetly seat ourselves at a corner table.
As the evening continued, we realized that our team was
actually doing pretty well well. Our initial desire to stay
under the radar disappeared. Suddenly we were there to win.
Then it came to the last question, worth a grand
(01:09):
total of twenty points. We knew it would decide the game.
The question, before his identity was known, what nickname did
the media give notorious serial killer Richard Ramirez. Oh that's
so easy, easy, I thought the nightstalker. I was about
to whisper the moniker to my family when I realized
that answering this question would reveal a secret that I
(01:30):
had kept from my parents for eight years, that I
am a murdered memo. Let me back up briefly. I
was fifteen and on a road trip with my parents
with a not even close to fully developed brain. I
thought it would be a great idea to play an
episode of this new podcast i'd been listening to, called
my favorite murder so live in up the otherwise boring drive.
(01:51):
What could go wrong? I mean with this fucking podcast.
My mom got me hooked on Agatha Christie before I
could read, and my dad starts every conversation with SO.
I was listening to this podcast the other day, so
it seemed like the natural thing to do. We listen
to about fifteen minutes of an episode of MFM, during
which I could all caps feel the tension and the
(02:13):
car growing with every new gory detail of the case
being described. Suddenly, my mom paused the episode and my
parents glanced at each other before my dad turned to
me in the backseat. He said, in a very serious tone,
promise us to never listen to this again. I, being
an incredibly sensitive child, flushed red from embarrassment and degree.
Speaker 1 (02:37):
I don't know if I'm proud or horrified by this.
Speaker 2 (02:40):
I think the combo feeling is great.
Speaker 1 (02:42):
It's a weird feeling to be like, I want to
apologize and tell someone to fuck off at the same time.
Speaker 2 (02:47):
Here's the thing, It's just a reality that's waiting for
that fifteen year old when they're twenty or twenty five
or whenever you think it's appropriate. But it's already happening.
Speaker 1 (02:55):
And you're doing us a favor by saying that to
a teenager, because all she's not going to do is
listen to every fucking episode too that we've done. I mean,
that is thank you.
Speaker 2 (03:02):
That's the marketing we're looking for for sure.
Speaker 3 (03:04):
Yes, parents, not the disapproving of us.
Speaker 2 (03:07):
Okay, It says, then started eight years of deception, or
maybe I should call it lying by omission. I have
continued to listen to your podcast religiously, despite my parents'
obvious and rather dramatic reaction to too lovely and hilarious
women talking about their not uncommon but slightly strange passion.
I listened throughout high school, college, and then parentheses. It says,
(03:28):
shout out to everyone else who started college in fall
twenty twenty, I did not have a good time. Hi,
so sad and I still keep up now as I'm
working on my master's in biology. Wow fancy. During this time,
I never needed to reveal that I continued to listen
to the podcast despite being highly discouraged from doing so
by my parents until Trivia. So there I was, do
(03:50):
I reveal my interest in true crime by answering a
question about Richard Ramirez? Or do I willingly let my
family lose bar Trivia? I decided that I could no
longer live in this world of deception. I answered the question, and,
when asked, revealed how I would possibly know anything about
a murderer who was caught more than fifteen years before
I was born. I was correct, and we won Trivia
(04:11):
thanks to my sacrifice. And what did I get for
this selfless gesture a concerned look from my mother, an
offhand judgment from my father, something like I can't imagine
wanting to learn about that kind of thing, Oh, my God.
And the evening's grand prize, a two dollars miniature ping
pong set with instructions in a language I don't understand.
Speaker 1 (04:30):
You didn't even get a pint or like a fucking
picture of beer.
Speaker 2 (04:33):
I'm sure it's like, here's this fun price, stay sexy
and risk it all for bar trivia.
Speaker 1 (04:38):
M That was a great story because I do love
bar trivia.
Speaker 2 (04:42):
I love it. It's so fun and sometimes it's so hard.
Speaker 3 (04:45):
It's so hard.
Speaker 1 (04:46):
That's why I stopped playing it. I was like, last
time I played it, I was like, I am the
stupidest person in this room.
Speaker 2 (04:50):
I did that once and I was with friends and
one of the friends was a guy I liked, and
I knew he was really smart, and I was like,
this is where we bond over being smart. And I
was like, I've just been telling myself I'm smart. I'm
one of those fake smart people that doesn't know what
the fuck she's talking about.
Speaker 3 (05:06):
Hurtful.
Speaker 2 (05:07):
I also learned that on this.
Speaker 3 (05:08):
Podcast, right, at least we have alcohol.
Speaker 1 (05:11):
Okay, this is called hit Man in the News. Hello Georgia,
Karen and Sundry Staff. I'm so glad to finally be
sharing my hometown story. Well, I no longer live there.
This happened in my place of birth about thirty years ago.
The dates aren't well known, and there was almost no
press coverage of what happened, so I couldn't get exact
dates for you. With all this ambiguity and uncertainty, you
(05:32):
might be wondering how I know this even happened, and
you would be right to wonder. I know because it
happened to my aunt and my sister saw it on
the news. I'm leaving out the where to protect the
innocent and my rather extended family that still lives in
the small Midwestern city. As the story goes, my aunt,
in her fifties at the time, let's call her Gladys Jones,
was in a relationship with a guy. It had gotten
(05:54):
serious enough that they were cohabitating. While most of the
family didn't care for him, it was known that she
was considered marrying him. Then one evening, she was watching
the five o'clock news and heard something like and then
it says Georgia puts on her newscast voice. Police have
arrested a local woman after she allegedly attempted to hire
a hitman to kill her ex husband's girlfriend, only to
(06:17):
unknowingly contact an undercover police officer. The intended victim was
Gladys Jones. Oh shit, yes, that's right, My aunt learned
she was nearly the victim of a hitman on the
evening news, like here's her own name, here's your feel
like they shouldn't have put out her name, for sure.
They used to do that shit all the time in
the news, right, it's like he's and here's her address.
Speaker 2 (06:38):
Where were the police contacting her to be like, hey,
this just happened.
Speaker 3 (06:42):
They weren't.
Speaker 1 (06:43):
It seems the ex wife had gotten wind of the
potential marriage and did not approve. We'll just have to
leave it at that, since her motivations were never explained.
I had a chance to speak with my aunt about
it recently. I asked if it had really happened, because
all I had was the story for my sister and
family gossip. She explained that the reason I couldn't I
did anything about it on the internet was because she
never gave a single interview or comment to a journalist
(07:04):
about the incidant. They would call and she would pretend
that Gladys wasn't home. Eventually one of them asked, you're Gladys,
aren't you. Her reply, I don't know. It will come
as no surprise to anyone that does. She did not
end up marrying the guy. She noped out of that
relationship right quick. Many years later she would marry her
dead sister's first husband, turning my cousins into sibling cousins.
(07:28):
But that's a story for another time.
Speaker 3 (07:30):
Yes, thanks, right now, I need to hear this.
Speaker 2 (07:33):
What a cliffhanger?
Speaker 1 (07:34):
Tell us everything. Thank you for your attention to this matter,
Dawn d Yoan Oh wow. I want people to write
in their weird like marriage awkward marriage stories of like
my cousin married the second you know, like the yeah,
the awkward, like oh no, everyone was at the wedding
being like, what the fuck is happening?
Speaker 2 (07:55):
Yeah, little family drama.
Speaker 1 (07:57):
Family Drama Wedding edition, my favorite murder a Gamie.
Speaker 2 (08:00):
I want people to write in more scripts for you
to read as a newscaster. I think you should do
that more of all right, yeah, it's great, very serious, Yes,
got to be this is crazy. I'm not going to
read you the subject line it says, so check this
shit out. Circa two thousand and seven, I was going
(08:20):
to school at cal Poly San Luis, Obispo. My friend
had just moved to Santa Barbara from the East Coast,
and I drove down long weekend to help her unpack
her pod.
Speaker 1 (08:30):
Oh yeah, it's like a name check the pod.
Speaker 2 (08:34):
The next morning, I set off back up the one
oh one toward home. I was driving my good old,
dark purple ninety eight Dodge Neon and rocking out as
one does on a solo road trip. I can't remember
exactly what I was listening to, but I do remember
I was bopping around and singing at the top of
my lungs. At some point I noticed an SUV coming
up behind me. The car moved over into the passing
(08:54):
lane and came up alongside me. I continued, unfhazed to
bop around and sing. As the car came alongside me,
I briefly looked over and noticed the driver, a middle
aged white dude, was full on staring at me, which, okay, fine,
I'm sure I looked ridiculous. However, instead of passing me,
he slowed down and got behind me again. Well that
(09:15):
was weird, I thought. Then he started flashing his lights
like he wanted me to pull over. Since I was
driving an old, crappy car, I immediately thought there must
be something wrong, and he was trying to warn me.
Did I leave my trunk open? Is my hood unlatched.
Did I forget to put my gas cap back on?
All things I've done before? There was a rest stop
coming up, and I almost took the exit when I
started having this gnawing feeling that I shouldn't stop. Thank God.
(09:39):
I did a quick assessment of the car. It was
driving fine, no smoke, no warning lights on the dash,
the hood in the trunk. Both looked secure as far
as I could tell, so I ignored him and kept going.
At that point, he got more aggressive, flashing his lights
rapidly and tailgating me. If you're familiar with this section
of the one on one just north of Santa Barbara,
you know it's one of the most beautiful drives in California,
(10:00):
but it's largely unpopulated.
Speaker 1 (10:02):
And it's also where the Zodiac Killer did this exact
thing and.
Speaker 2 (10:05):
Pulled over that woman. I had my cell phone. I'm
not sure why I didn't call nine one one, but
the rational part of my brain was telling me that
I was being paranoid. I did, however, open it. This
was flip phone era and pre dial nine to one one,
so if shit got real, all I had to do
was hit the call button. That's very smart. He stopped
flashing his lights, but for the next fifteen miles he
(10:27):
continued to tail me. If I slowed down, he slowed down.
If I started speeding, he started speeding. Other cars passed us,
but no one else tried to gesture to me that
something was wrong with my car. At this point, I'm
freaking the fuck out. If I call the police, what
do I say? Some guys refusing to pass me. No
matter what I do, I can't even really tell them
where I am other than heading northbound somewhere on the
(10:49):
one oh one. So I just continue to drive, hoping
that he'll get bored with this game and move on.
We finally approach the exit for solving. I turn on
my blinker and started to take the exit. I look
in my rear view mirror and see that he's doing
the same. Quickly, I veer back onto the one to
one and put the pedal to the metal. To my relief,
he continues up the off ramp to the light. I
(11:10):
figure now's my chance to make my getaway, and I
start going over ninety miles an hour towards home. I
decided that getting a speeding ticket at this point would
be the best case scenario, which is very smart because
that also involves police. Yeah, but what if you're on
a car accident. That's true, there's a lot of minuses
to this situation. I spent the next forty plus miles
(11:30):
staring in my rear view mirror and praying not to
see that car again. By the time I reached Santa Maria,
there was still no sign of him, and I was
nearly out of gas. I decided I had to stop. Remember,
I am in a purple car. If he's still looking
for me, I don't exactly blend in. So instead of
getting gas right off the exit, I decide to go
further into Santa Maria. As I was fueling up, I
(11:53):
did a once over of my car. Nothing was wrong
with it. As soon as I had pumped enough gas
to get home, I got the fuck out of there
and I never saw him again. To this day, I
wonder what he was doing or was I just being paranoid.
Was he playing with me? Or did I escape the
clutches of a serial killer. Whatever the case, I'm just
happy I am still here to tell the story. Yes, anyway,
(12:14):
stay sexy and don't pull over for creepy dudes on
the one oh one Amber, Oh.
Speaker 1 (12:18):
My god, it was totally nefarious. There's no what what
was the other point with that? Besides that?
Speaker 3 (12:24):
Like that is also textbook?
Speaker 2 (12:26):
How many times has your like trunk been open and
no one gives a shit?
Speaker 3 (12:30):
No one gives a shit?
Speaker 1 (12:31):
Like and you would know and it also doesn't matter, Yes,
it wouldn't matter.
Speaker 2 (12:35):
You would know, And that idea if someone's yeah, tailgating
you to convey information.
Speaker 1 (12:41):
To intimidate you to pull over, Yeah, don't mind it.
Speaker 2 (12:44):
Yeah, okay.
Speaker 1 (12:46):
Twin to Lepathy, Nightmare and Long Island mother in Law's
Hi MFM crew, Hello Murderinos, longtime listener, first time sender,
and apparently part of a paranormal too for one deal
for contact. I have a twin sister who also happens
to be my absolute best friend. She also listens to
every episode of this podcast and we have our weekly debriefs. Oh,
(13:09):
we're fraternal boy and girl twins. But when we were toddlers,
a university wanted to study us because our connection was
more like identical twins, full on communicating without speaking, matching
bruises psychic weirdness territory.
Speaker 2 (13:22):
Ooh, that's fascinating.
Speaker 3 (13:24):
Twin to lepathy absolutely real.
Speaker 1 (13:26):
It doesn't happen as often now that we live apart,
but last week we had one of our creepiest ones yet.
Speaker 2 (13:30):
Ooh adult, yeah, I'm assuming, Yeah, what if this was
a three year old's riding using AI to ride in.
Speaker 1 (13:38):
I had a wrestless night's sleep and one of those
dreams I feel more like a memory. In the dream,
I'm walking through the woods at night with a woman
who's face I can't quite see. I only know she's
just ahead of me, like she's leading me somewhere. We
reach a black, slow moving river. I slip crash into
the water, and when I stand up, I feel a
stabbing pain. I lift my feet and find dirty syringes sticking.
Speaker 3 (14:00):
Out at every angle. Oh God.
Speaker 1 (14:02):
The next day I tell my sister of this horrifying dream,
and she gasps she had the exact same dream, same
faceless woman, same river, same filthy needles in her feet.
Speaker 2 (14:13):
What.
Speaker 1 (14:14):
We were both horrified, but admittedly impressed that our telepathy
still works.
Speaker 2 (14:17):
I mean, that's why I know.
Speaker 1 (14:20):
For additional context, our mother was scheduled to visit in
a couple weeks, but we didn't think much of that
detail until I was at dinner with my mother in
law one night, who had it all figured out. I
tell her the dream we both had, wondering what it
all meant, and without hesitation in her perfect Long Island accent,
which I can't do, just give it a wor, she says,
and it says, and then it says read in a
(14:40):
thick Long Island accent.
Speaker 3 (14:43):
How do you can you?
Speaker 1 (14:45):
Oh that one's easy. Your mother's coming to visit. You're
walking on pins and needles, perfection Long Island medium.
Speaker 3 (14:53):
Thank you all those hours I watched that helped.
Speaker 2 (14:56):
She can hear you right now, right, I told my sister.
Speaker 3 (15:01):
We laughed so hard we cried.
Speaker 1 (15:02):
Turns out our psychic powers weren't warning us about death,
danger or the supernatural. Just a visit with mom, Stay
sexy and don't let your psychic twin connection drag you
into the river.
Speaker 2 (15:12):
Corey, Wow, that's fascinating, Like I love that email. Yeah,
just as an experience, Yeah.
Speaker 1 (15:20):
Because like it's something that is so fascinating, that twin,
like from those unsolved mysteries, like twins from across the country.
Speaker 3 (15:26):
And yeah, it's just like so fascinating.
Speaker 1 (15:28):
Yes, I always wanted a twin when I was a kid.
Speaker 2 (15:30):
That's it yeat from that book series where it's exactly
a daughter cuts her hands and the mother feels, do you.
Speaker 3 (15:36):
Have a telepathic fucking vibe with anyone?
Speaker 1 (15:39):
Oh?
Speaker 2 (15:39):
My god, would you like to? This is I'm not
going to read you half of this title, but the
back half is colon a latchkey Kid's last stand, Hello friends.
Growing up as an eighties and nineties kid, I proudly
held the title of latchkey kid, at least until one wintry,
(15:59):
col roato afternoon brought that era to an embarrassing end.
Here was the after school protocol in our house. My sister,
a kindergartener, and I, a third grader, would hop off
the bus at our neighborhood stop and walk a few
blocks home. I was then responsible for retrieving the hidden
key from the hook behind the bench on our front
porch and unlocking the front door.
Speaker 3 (16:21):
Just picturing.
Speaker 1 (16:22):
My nephews were like that age fucking taking themselves home
from school.
Speaker 3 (16:26):
Bye, but you're in charge because you're a little bit older.
Speaker 2 (16:29):
Good luck on the next two blocks. Seven year old
and five year old?
Speaker 3 (16:33):
What were we thinking?
Speaker 1 (16:34):
So crazy?
Speaker 2 (16:36):
It was? I think it was like ignorance is bliss. Yeah,
then yeah partially.
Speaker 1 (16:40):
Yeah.
Speaker 2 (16:41):
Once inside, I'd make a snack for the two of
us and wait for our mom to get home about
an hour later, an hour.
Speaker 1 (16:47):
Oh nothing, No, we'd be home for like fucking midnight
alone for real. Then for yourself, I'm like, you need
to get that tattooed on my.
Speaker 2 (16:54):
Lower back ben for yourself. Simple, efficient, fool proof. Except
the lock and I had a complicated relationship. I'd had
issues with it before and told my parents my theory
the lock got sticky when it was cold. They allegedly
tested it and said it was fine and told me
to proceed as normal with the routine.
Speaker 3 (17:14):
Too bad, deal with it.
Speaker 2 (17:16):
I'm sorry. I understand that it was time and place,
but that's bullshit. Parent Wise, fix the fucking lock. Yeah,
the whole thing falls apart if the latch key doesn't
work right, right, proceed is normal with the routine. Until
one day it wasn't fine. It was freezing, and yet
again the key wouldn't work. I tried everything, gentle jiggles,
forceful yanks, whispered threats, nothing, and of course, to make
(17:37):
matters worse, I really had to pee. Did I knock
on the neighbor's door for help. Absolutely not. We knew
them to some extent. I was far too embarrassed to
explain that I'd been defeated by a doorknob and that
I was about to pee my pants. We were cold, snackless,
and I was seconds away from disaster. So I did
what any panicked third grader might do. I yelled at
my sister to serve as lookout. Ran to the backyard yard,
(18:00):
rushingly fumbled to unhook my oshkosh overalls and peede in
the winter brown grass. There was no fence, no landscaping,
just our brand new house backing up to a public
golf course, and my public shame squat. An hour later,
my mom came home to find us shivering on the
porch bench. I still couldn't get the door open and
my sister. I had planned to carry that backyard secret
(18:23):
to my grave, but the snitch routed me out instantly.
My mom was horrified, Needless to say, our latchkey privileges
were revoked.
Speaker 1 (18:31):
Sorry, your mother's privileges should have been revoked.
Speaker 2 (18:35):
Yeah, that's right, all on her parents' privileges to be like,
we don't have to worry about them for these three.
Speaker 1 (18:40):
Hours and the lock's broken, but we don't care, Like, yeah,
we're here to blame the parents.
Speaker 2 (18:44):
We're here to squarely blame our own parents through this story. Anyway,
we can't always because also it's so frustrating in your
little kid mind. You're like, I should be able to
handle this.
Speaker 3 (18:54):
It's like, why to handle it?
Speaker 2 (18:57):
Never done anything like this before. We were promptly enrolled
in an after school program and I was officially relieved
of key duty. Looking back, I probably wasn't truly in trouble,
but at the time it felt like I'd failed the family.
And while my parents may have veered into light trash
territory by giving their nine year old such responsibility without
any real way of knowing if their kids even made
(19:17):
at home each day, they were and still are amazing parents.
In fact, my mom's my hero, and I hope to
be just like her when I grow up. I'm a
Day one listener, and since your very first episodes, I've
gone from teacher to assistant principle to the principle of
a large public high school. I just want to say
thank you for your humor, your hearts, and your fierce
love for public education and the people in it. Amy ps.
(19:41):
My quote unquote favorite murder is the John Benney Ramsey case,
what we know as your firstest murder growing up as
a Colorado kid in the nineties, it was both terrifying
and fascinating, and this case definitely sparked my lifelong interest
in true crime. It wasn't until much later that my
dad casually met that his brother, my uncle, was one
(20:02):
of the many people questioned in the investigation because he
had done handyman work for the Ramses who Now. To
be fair, my dad is known for being a bit
of a gossip and I've definitely never had the guts
to ask my uncle directly, so this is an unconfirmed story,
but still sheesh. Wow Yeah, Amy, Sorry, Amy, Amy, you
(20:23):
nailed it.
Speaker 1 (20:24):
You just mind your family's drama and fucking nailed it.
Speaker 2 (20:28):
You just spilled good luck at Thanksgiving.
Speaker 3 (20:32):
Okay.
Speaker 1 (20:32):
My last one's called ship bag stories. Question mark question mark,
question mark question mark. Hello, murder fam. I'm a murder
podcast junkie. I listen at work while I'm cleaning, showering, driving,
and everything in between showering. I recently discovered MFM and
I just love it. This is my mom.
Speaker 3 (20:51):
I just love it, and I just love it.
Speaker 1 (20:53):
I just listened to an episode where I believe someone
wrote in about being shipbag sisters and prank calling his kids.
It made me of my younger days and the phone
pranks I used to pull. In my small town in Kentucky,
there used to be a rural mobile phone provider. It
was pretty small in comparison to AT and T, but
it was the only service provider for our country ass town.
Speaker 3 (21:15):
When you signed up for this provider, this is so brilliant.
Speaker 1 (21:17):
When you signed up for this provider, your voicemail password
was set to the default of pound nine nine everyone's
was This kid figured it out? Yes, So on weekends
when there wasn't much to do, we used to call
random numbers and if the voicemail picked up, we would
enter the default password to see if they had changed it.
Speaker 3 (21:37):
Yeah, brilliant, Yes, brilliant.
Speaker 2 (21:39):
This is how you have to pass the time in
the country.
Speaker 1 (21:42):
Yeah, yes, well that makes sense. If not, we would
then change their voicemail greeting to sex sounds, animal noises,
and random obscenities.
Speaker 3 (21:54):
Some of these poor.
Speaker 1 (21:54):
People had previous greetings ending in God bless and have
a beautiful day. Oh you just fuck the so many people.
Looking back, I still find it comical and would totally
do it again when you come to the right podcast.
That's right, I guess I'm still a shitbag. Lol, Stay sexy,
don't get murdered, Rebecca.
Speaker 2 (22:11):
Ce, Rebecca, see we're with you entirely. For a second,
I thought that that meant that they could listen to
other people's messages.
Speaker 1 (22:19):
That's what I thought too, But I think it's even
more mayhem by leaving outgoing.
Speaker 2 (22:24):
And out a new outgoing message.
Speaker 1 (22:26):
Sex sounds like for children.
Speaker 3 (22:28):
Shit, shit, damn.
Speaker 1 (22:32):
Tell us your ship bag stories at my Favorite Murder
at Gmail.
Speaker 2 (22:36):
And as two ship bags, I'd like to say on
behalf of Georgia and I stay sexy and.
Speaker 3 (22:40):
Don't get murdered.
Speaker 1 (22:42):
Goodbye, Elvis, Do you want a cookie?
Speaker 2 (22:52):
This has been an exactly right production.
Speaker 1 (22:54):
Our senior producers are Alle Hundra Keck and Molly Smith.
Speaker 2 (22:57):
Our editor is Aristotle las Veda.
Speaker 3 (22:59):
This episode was by Leonis Quillacci.
Speaker 2 (23:01):
Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder at gmail dot com.
Speaker 1 (23:04):
And follow the show on Instagram at my Favorite Murder.
Speaker 2 (23:06):
Listen to my Favorite Murder on the iHeartRadio app Apple
podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker 1 (23:11):
And now you can watch us on exactly writes YouTube page.
And while you're there, please like and subscribe.
Speaker 2 (23:16):
YI bye bye