MFM Minisode 440

This is exactly right.

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Hello,

and welcome to my favorite murder, the mini sew.

We read you your stories.

Do you want to hear one?

Go first.

This is an 80s Latchkey Kid story, and it just goes right into it.

It says, I just listened to Jillian's Latchkey Kid story, and I have one of my own.

As a Latchkey Kid, I was always reminded to never answer the door for anyone.

One day, while my parents were out, one was at work, the other was car shopping, I was home alone when some men came to the door and started knocking.

I looked out my curtain, saw a car I didn't recognize, and knew I shouldn't answer the door.

The knocking grew louder and louder and became intense banging until they finally just broke the door down.

Jesus.

I was of course terrified and not sure what to do.

I could hear them downstairs rifling through things and when I heard them start to come up the stairs, I quickly hid under the bed.

One of them came in my room and I don't really know why he came to my bedside, but I was sure the thunderous sound of my heart beating when that man's dirty steel-toed boots were standing inches from my face would give me away.

He finally left my room and my dumb brain said, you should try to see what he looks like for the police.

So I crept onto my bed as he was going the opposite direction down the hall and rounded the corner to the stairs.

How he did not see me, I don't know, and I wasn't able to get a good look at his facial features either.

I crawled back under the bed and waited for them to leave.

Finally, they left, and because call 911 in an emergency had not yet been drilled into my brain, I called the neighbor who then called the police.

You would think this was bad enough, but upon my return to school, I got the dreaded take this to the office for me directive, and I knew full well that my classmates were being talked to about me and the incident.

And then in parentheses, it just says, why did schools do this kind of bullshit anyway?

That's weird.

It says, thank you, Butte Creek Elementary School, for giving my tormentors ammunition that made my life hell from that moment on.

The next line says, I was 11.

I struggled with intense nightmares for 20 plus years until I started letting my dog sleep with me.

And you would be surprised by the number of grown-ass adults who to this day fucking ask me about it as if we were discussing the weather.

Wow.

I'm 53 now and have lived my life in constant fear for my safety.

And I tell everyone I know to please call first because an unexpected knock at the door throws my heart straight into my throat.

Wow.

Also, about 10 years ago, one of my biggest tormentors friended me on Facebook.

I accepted trying to let bygones be bygones.

And then one day I was like, fuck that shit.

And And I unfriended him.

He still occasionally tried to friend me before blocking was something we thought about on the regular.

And that's my terrifying Latchkey Kid story.

I'm just out here living my life, always on the edge, but also trying to stay sexy and not get murdered.

Elsa.

Man, that stuff sticks with you.

I mean, not to assume anything, Elsa, because I know that's not your whole life story.

I hope you get into therapy.

Yeah.

That's something you should definitely talk to somebody about.

Your body keeps the score and you can work it out.

This is called Trash Cat story.

Hello, ladies.

I finally thought of a good one.

A must-read, really.

When I was 12 years old, my mom brought home two little kittens.

They were roughly three months old and they quickly became my whole entire life.

That's right.

I became a full-blown cat lady at the age of 12.

The years passed and we lost one of the kittens around age six.

The remaining cat was the calmer of the two.

Her name was Penny.

She was small, tan, and gray, and very quiet.

I took her to live with me when I was about 20 years old and she was eight.

She stuck with me through the birth of three boys, adopting a beagle puppy, a shitty marriage, and divorce, and bringing home another stray kitten when Penny was around 16 years old.

Having been the solo cat for the last 10 years of her life, she hated that kitten with every fiber of her being and often went into hiding in different parts of the house to escape him.

Aw, Mimi.

When Penny was 19 years old, I had just dropped the boys off with their father for his weekend and came back home to enjoy a quiet night.

I had been home for around an hour when I went to the back of the house to start a load of laundry.

Coming back into the living room, I was suddenly hit with an eye-stinging, nose-burning, wall of chemical burning smell that I thought was coming from the open windows in the kitchen.

I walked through the kitchen and when I got to the front of the house, I realized that the smell was coming from inside the house somewhere.

Panicking, I scooped up the other cat, Albie, and the beagle, Rosie, and looked around for Penny.

Not seeing her immediately, I took the two pets outside to my car and locked them in.

I looked around the outside of the the house and saw no smoke but didn't dare go back inside yet.

I called my mom to see if she would know what the smell was since she had lived there previously.

She told me to call the gas company.

The gas company shows up with a fire truck in tow.

They use their magic gas sensing wands to look around the outside of the house.

Nothing toxic.

They go inside, nothing toxic.

But they also smell the smell and want to stay to help identify where it could be coming from.

So a team consisting of me, three firefighters, and two gas company men start looking in the front of the house where the smell is strongest.

When out of nowhere, Penny pokes her little gray head out of the cabinet to see what all the fuss is about.

I scoop her up when the smell hits me like a load of bricks.

It was Penny.

She gets sprayed by a scunch?

Uh-uh.

In an act of what I'm calling cat dementia, Penny walked across the counters when I was out of the kitchen and all caps set her tail on fire.

With a candle I had lit on the counter when I got home.

The smell was burnt hair and some streaks of burnt paint on the kitchen wall when she was running away from the fire.

The singe part hadn't reached down to her skin and she was perfectly fine.

I, on the other hand, had to explain to the five men in my house that it was my cat and there was no serious danger.

I still can't totally look all the local firemen in the face when I see some of them in school drop offline.

Penny lived another two and a half years and passed away shortly before her 22nd birthday last November.

She was truly a part of me that I had to learn how to live without.

The joy and comfort she brought to me and my children who had never known a life without her is truly irreplaceable.

Keep doing what you're doing.

It has made a world of difference for people who once felt out of place for loving them a cop.

Lots of love, Sarah.

Oh.

Kenny's tail on fire.

I mean, it's very kind of like sweet.

And of course, the shy cat gets her

tail set on fire.

But I would say you can go right up to those firemen in the pickup line because you just having some kind of cat problem is the best kind of call a fireman could go on.

Right.

They love it.

They think it's funny.

It's something to talk about.

Who cares?

No one's hurt.

No one's jumping off a roof to escape.

Yeah, it's best case scenario.

I would say, with the kind of things that firemen see, they're probably not judging the cat thing.

I was afraid that cat was going to be dead somewhere.

Not in the wall.

This sucks.

I'm sad about Fenny.

No.

Okay, this says historical hometown.

Hello, Georgia Karen and the ERM team.

Greetings from Quincy.

Pronounced Quincy by the locals, Massachusetts, hometown of John and John Quincy Adams.

I'm a third grade teacher in Quincy, and our social studies curriculum is all about Massachusetts history.

My typical audience is the eight-to-nine-year-old non-murderino market, so I'm hoping to share my historical knowledge with my fellow murderinos.

Please do.

You've discussed John Adams and John Quincy Adams, but I would be remiss not to acknowledge Abigail Adams.

It says Abigail was husband to John, but we think they mean wife, obviously.

Mother to John Quincy, and if we're talking founding fathers, we need to talk founding mothers.

While the men of the Revolution, who've been extensively written about in our country's history, shocking, were fighting battles, writing declarations, and signing constitutions, the women were making contributions of their own, although their stories aren't often told.

Take Deborah Sampson, Massachusetts state heroine.

When women were forbidden from fighting in battle, Deborah disguised herself as a man, fought, and even dug a musket ball out of her leg with a knife to avoid medical attention that might out her identity.

Wow.

Total badass.

I just read about that woman.

Really?

Yes.

She was a soldier undercover the entire time and then finally had to go to the hospital.

I believe that's when they were found out.

Yeah.

There's Phyllis Wheatley.

As a girl, Phyllis was taken from her family in Africa and sold as a slave.

Her birth name is unknown.

The name Phyllis Wheatley, quote unquote, was given to her.

Phyllis was taught to read and write by the family that enslaved her, a rarity to say the least.

And despite her horrific circumstances, she emerged as a prolific poet, penning works about the importance of freedom for all.

Many of her works were published, making her the first published African-American poet.

Wow.

Circling back to Abigail, while John was traveling for America's independence, Abigail Adams was at home tending to the farm and her children alone under constant threat and danger of the British.

During their time apart, she and John are well known for writing letters to one another, many in which Abigail offered advice and guidance to John during the Revolution.

Most famously, she encouraged him to remember the ladies, imploring him to support women too, and the need to provide education to both boys and girls.

Many schools for girls opened after the revolution.

Abigail Adams was an OG feminist.

Hell yeah.

I hope you enjoyed my often useless historical knowledge.

I think it could be of great use to us here on this podcast.

Thank you for being my companions on my long commute home while I decompress from the chaos that is teaching in America right now.

God, stay strong, teachers.

Keep fighting the good fight.

You're doing amazing.

Back at you from Georgia and I.

Stay sexy and remember the ladies, Patricia.

P.S.

A quick moray to all the teachers.

Oh, I didn't see that.

This job has always been difficult, but it has become damn near impossible in recent years.

Keep digging deep.

Stay true to your authentic self and purpose and don't forget to take care of you.

Wow.

Yeah.

That's good advice.

That was a great letter.

Yeah.

Good job.

Third grade history teacher is going to come in and actually provide us something.

Knowledge.

We need it.

Yeah, I'll take it.

There's more to San Francisco with the Chronicle.

There's more food for thought, more thought for food.

There's more data insights to help with those day-to-day choices.

There's more to the weather than whether it's going to rain.

And with our arts and entertainment coverage, you won't just get out more, you'll get more out of it.

At the Chronicle, knowing more about San Francisco is our passion.

Discover more at sfchronicle.com.

Validasan loved us.

Over to crisantemos solentenas selections via producers solentenas selectas and los control unarrives.

Los nosotros ayudamos.

Tu ahoras.

Visita tu Los Mazercano and East Arcas Avenue in Sunnyvale.

This is seven-year-old, three days, and a broken arm.

Hello, Queens of the Macabre.

That's weird that macabre doesn't both do that.

That's the adjective of guess how.

Our producer Molly is just writing all of these.

She's like, Georgia will like this.

It's about a cat named Henny.

Yeah, exactly.

It says, hello, Queens of the Macabre, cats of cookies, and escape artist dogs.

It was about this time of year when I was seven years old and writing my quad, four-wheeler to some people.

Basically, it's a motorized four-wheeled thing that a seven-year-old probably shouldn't have been riding on her own.

But I was riding it in my large backyard when my dad and younger sister got fishing poles ready to go up to a local pond for some after-dinner fishing.

When I did the only thing my dad told me not to do, he told me to go fast on straightaway and slow on turns.

Well, I did not slow down on the turn, and the quad ended up on two wheels, and I fell off flipping the quad.

I remember rolling out of the way to avoid getting crushed, but I was seven, so who the hell knows?

I screamed.

My dad came running, stopped the runaway quad, and then helped me get up.

My left arm hurt like hell.

Which one cost $2,500?

Exactly.

My arm hurt like hell, so he took me inside.

My mom got me a water bottle for my arm and tried to calm me down because naturally I was crying and freaking out.

My mom told me it would be sore for the next few days, but the next morning, I couldn't lift it above my shoulder.

My mom had to, all caps, force my arm above my head to put on my shirt and I was in tears.

So, like, her shoulder's dislocated, and her mom's like, but we got to get this shirt on.

Yeah, this is the only way to get a shirt on.

Got to.

It has to be a pull over the head shirt.

I went to school, a all caps karate class that night, and then school, and then school the next day.

When I came out of school Friday, it says the wreck happened on a Wednesday, my pants were not zipped up or buttoned, and I was dragging my rolling backpack trying to clutch my arm.

Very pathetic.

So pathetic.

A doctor's office, a hospital, three hours later, and questions that I now realize I needed to answer because people thought a seven-year-old was being abused.

And we found out I had a broken arm.

Yeah, you did.

Yeah, you did.

I am now 21 years old.

And to this day, that is still the only bone I have ever broken.

And I actually punch harder with that arm now.

Bionic arm.

In what scenario do you know that?

I know.

That's something we should all know.

Which arm do you punch harder with?

we should all know and remember when you used to punch with that arm yeah how different is it now that you're when you're punching right right maybe they've loaded her up with something titanium yeah I also have this kick-ass story to freak my friends out.

I would like to clarify that my parents are amazing people and very supportive.

And I believe this incident has helped me to become a tougher human being overall.

You have to say that to yourself, don't you?

There's no other way.

The other option is so sad.

Thank you, ladies, for all you do.

Stay sexy.

And if your seven-year-old falls off her quad, get her to the hospital.

Or don't, because it'll make her tougher.

Right, Britt.

Britt,

Britt, you're probably as tough as nails.

Yeah.

Britt's like a positive, you know, cheery person who will also fight for you.

She's like, Britt's like, get her done.

She's like, look, put your arms up even when you have a dislocated shoulder.

Totally.

Put your ringer t-shirt on and jam that arm up over your head.

If it's really swollen and throbbing and it hurts to move at all,

the answer is karate.

Did you hear about the 13-year-old?

A guy tried to grab her.

It was in Carmel.

And she fucking used jiu-jitsu on him and broke his ankle.

Hell yeah.

Yeah.

He was like, hey, blah, blah, blah.

And she was like, I don't need to be helping you.

And then you reached out and grabbed her and she used this like jiu-jitsu move, jiu-jitsu move.

That's amazing.

We all need to learn jiu-jitsu.

Yeah.

How?

So talk about it.

That's crazy.

Okay, here's my last one.

It says fist fight at a first birthday party.

And then in parentheses, it says spicy family drama.

That's what we're looking for.

Hello, Karen, Georgia, kitties, puppies, and the entire exactly right crew.

Longtime listener, second time writer, though this is a much better story, so I'm glad you guys never read the first one.

See, we know.

In Mini Sub 418, you ask for family drama stories.

Boy, do I have a good story for you.

Some context.

My grandfather was not a good guy.

He was a firefighter who faked an injury and went out on disability for the remainder of his career.

He was also abusive towards my grandmother, mother, and uncles.

My grandma divorced him in the 70s, and my mother, a loud, opinionated Brooklyn Italian, stopped speaking to him when she was a teenager.

Suffice it to say, we all had no relationship with the man and I didn't know him at all.

Fast forward to January 2002, I am freshly four years old, and the family has gathered to celebrate my cousin Stephen's first birthday.

My uncle Steve, Stephen's dad, obviously, had an icy relationship.

with his father, but they're still on speaking terms at this point.

Being that I was only four at the time, I have no memory of the following incident, but this is what I've been told happened.

My grandfather's new wife was making a comment about something and was trying to use the word connoisseur.

However,

however, she mispronounced the word and instead said connoisseur, which is fine.

It's fine.

That's a fun accent.

Yeah.

My grandmother, never wanted to hold her judgment or tongue when it's involving someone she does not have the highest opinion of, turns around and very loudly says, connoisseur.

This one silly comment led to my grandfather and grandmother exchanging some choice words.

Things began to get a little heated, which led my Uncle Frank, grandma's brother, leaping across the table and punching my grandfather in the face.

A fistfight between two men commenced.

I don't know exactly what happened next.

I'd imagine they were broken up and maybe the police were called, but I do know that this was the final nail in the coffin, effectively ending the relationship between Uncle Steve and my grandfather, which explains why my brother, cousins, and I never even knew the man.

My mother will often say, I'm surprised you don't remember that, ma'am, I was four.

There are many more wild family moments connected to this story and the nonsense of my grandfather in general.

Like whenever my cousins and I come across the word connoisseur, which surprisingly happens a lot more than you'd think, we always give each other a knowing look and exclaim, connoisseur, like the assholes we are.

Or the time I was watching the old school game show Card Sharks with my grandma.

I love that game.

That sentence, I was watching card sharks with my grandma is like the source of all great memories memories yeah it's such a good game it is the host introduces 10 married women and says how many of these women claim that they've been in love with another man besides their husbands scandalous my grandma says i think i've been in love with three men none of them were my husband oh grandma spicy i practically fell on the floor laughing the icing on the cake a few days after this we were informed of my grandfather's passing true comedic irony My sweet uncle Frank, the unsung hero of this story, lost his battle with Alzheimer's in 2024.

He was a New York City firefighter for 30 years and the grandfather I never had.

He was an incredible man and we all miss him so much, but we know he's always with us, visiting us in the form of cardinals and flickering lights.

He was and remains the best.

Stay sexy and don't get into a fist fight at a child's birthday party, Emily.

There is nothing classier than a fist fight at a child's birthday party.

How about a fist fight at a wedding?

A wedding.

Oh.

My family did that a couple times.

Sacramento.

Okay.

An emu tried to pants my grandma.

Hello, MFM, day one listener, somethingeth time writer.

The first time I heard your voices, I was in the back of a bush taxi in the middle of rural Burkina Faso, where I was serving with the Peace Corps.

Since then, I've become an immigration attorney and I'm prepping for my wedding next month.

You've been with me every step of the way.

Thank you.

Wow, thank you.

While listening to George's excellent Emu Wars episode, I remember the time I very gallantly did not stand up to an Emu.

When I was 10 years old, my family moved to Australia.

I was fascinated by all the animal interactions.

Early on, I woke up for school and walked out into the dining room to just see my dad in his underwear leaping from wall to wall with a shoebox, trying to catch the biggest huntsman spider I have ever seen.

Have you seen those ones?

And they're like hairy.

Yeah.

It's kind of tarantula-y,

if I'm not mistaken.

Yeah, I honestly don't want to see it.

I won't show you, but I'm going to look it up really quickly.

Show me, show me.

Okay.

I should know.

Because I wonder if I'm thinking of.

Oh, there's one behind you right now.

Behind you.

The legs are long.

The legs are so long.

It's also actually, well, I think maybe there's different ones, but this is not hairy.

Yeah.

It's like

the tiny version gets in your bathroom all the time, but it's literally that big.

But when you see it, you go, those legs are too long.

I can't fucking, I can't do spiders.

I'm so sorry, because that one was palm-size, literally.

Palm size, and then like really, like, especially long legs.

Yes.

Like, you, like, how are these people putting them on their hands?

Like, long and skinny.

Like, look at my page right there.

That's how I gripped.

That's how hard I gripped.

I ruined fucking my papers.

Okay.

No, I don't want to say it.

No more.

No more.

And then it says, it's an image I will never forget.

Me too.

Meet three.

Around my 11th birthday, my grandparents, Anne and Bill, aka Grammy and Gramps, came to visit us and we set off on a number of adventures to show them our new home.

One of the outings was to Tidbanilla National Preserve, an excellent nature preserve outside of Canberra, where we were living.

We took a picnic and set up to eat after walking through the koala preserve.

So minty.

I'll take a koala in my house, not if I can hudsmaska.

Imagine any day.

Koala on the wall.

They just have a little bit of herpes.

That's okay.

Oh, no, do they?

Oh, no.

Yeah, they have a lot of STDs, apparently.

Cool.

Okay.

We're learning a lot.

Australian.

I'm your Australian

information you didn't want to know about Australia hookup.

Yeah.

Okay.

As we were starting to eat a couple

as we were starting to eat a couple emus, not as we were starting to eat a couple emus.

Digging into those emus.

As we were starting to eat, a couple emus started to approach our table.

We tried to play it cool, but one of them started to really focus on Grammy.

But the emus just kept getting closer and closer until they were practically sitting at the table with us.

Suddenly, one of the emus started pecking at Grammy's pants.

She got up and started to back away and around the table, and the emu followed, pecking incessantly at the button of her pants.

The rest of the family started yelling at the emu, trying to chase it away or trying to quickly pack up our lunch.

Me, I ran as quickly as I could into the car and locked myself inside.

That's right.

And watched from afar as a giant emu chased my little Grammy around the picnic table, attempting to steal her pants.

Why?

In the end, the picnic was saved and Grammy's pants remained intact, all thanks to everyone but me.

Coward.

Also like locking the door like an emus just gonna open the door.

Or if anyone else tries to come and get it, it's like no no.

No, just me.

You weren't fast enough.

Stay sexy and don't let the emus steal your pants, Ruby.

Ruby, why?

Was it like the color or shiny button?

Probably.

Because those are like, I would imagine emus are super cute 15 feet away.

Yeah.

And the second they're within five feet, you're scared shit like that.

I think just they're terrifying up close.

Yeah.

You got the teeth and the calves and the muscles.

Dinosaurs.

Dinosaurs.

Full on dinosaurs.

Send us your stories about Australia's stories.

Yeah.

Large spider on any continent stories.

Sure.

Definitely.

Of course, EMU.

Always EMU.

If you've got an EMU story, if you've got an EMU story.

We'll take either.

We like both.

Varietosters.

Orlines.

Visita tu Los Mastercano in East Arcas Avenue in Sunnyvale.

It seems everyone gets a tip these days.

Deliver food?

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Drive around town?

Get a tip.

Serve a drink?

Get a tip.

But here's one tip that can help you find a higher-paying career.

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Okay, hi, we don't usually do hoorays at the end of mini-sodes, but this is a special occasion.

So this is Honking Hoorays presented by Hyundai.

All All right, you want to go first?

Want me to go?

Sure, I'll go first.

Tell me one.

We also never read these off cards.

We don't.

It's all so exciting.

I've never read anything with this much lipstick on before.

Are you ready?

The subject line of this hooray is Hooray, Lighthouse in Maine edition.

Great.

After a devastating divorce in 2020.

It starts off a little head.

Are you all right?

We're going to be fine.

Let's go.

We're in the card.

After a devastating divorce in 2020, I started listening to MFM.

In one of the podcasts, Karen stated that she wanted to, quote, live alone in a lighthouse in Maine, end quote.

Remember that one?

Yeah, that's great.

Well, Karen, after four years of dreaming about what you said, I've moved to Maine from California and I live about 20 minutes walking, four minutes driving from the Portland Head Lighthouse.

Aww.

It's beautiful.

Hooray for bravery, for finding inspiration anywhere, or just doing what Karen says.

Gratefully, Jill.

Sweet.

I mean, hooray for that.

Hooray,

I want to leave California too.

That sounds great.

Right this second.

Right this moment.

Can you read a hooray before you go?

I think I'm in a car.

Okay.

Okay.

This is called,

no title.

Okay.

I have a hooray.

My dog Ripken finished radiation treatments after six weeks of treatment for sarcoma.

He was a very brave boy, and we listened to your voices on the entire one and a half hour drive each way to treatment.

Oh.

And that was from KK Fenwick 3.

KK.

KK, Brent.

Okay, yeah.

Let's see.

So wait, that that dog's okay, right?

Yeah.

Okay.

Finished radiation after six weeks, but so he's good now.

Full hooray.

Full hooray.

Gigantic hooray.

Yeah.

Okay.

This one is written by none other than a Shelby.

Are you ready?

I love a Shelby.

So the subject line of this is hooray.

Okay.

It was an email.

It says, this is Shelby here, but it is actually Dr.

Shelby now.

I've been an RN

since the 1900s, she says.

I love it.

I currently work as a nursing instructor teaching baby nurses how to not kill people.

It's It's very important.

Back in 2019, I was fired from an awesome job with shitty upper management, but nevertheless, this change forced me to look at my path.

And with my husband's encouragement, I went back to school.

I completed my BSN in the midst of the pandemic.

How did you do anything in the pandemic?

That's, can you imagine homework in the pandemic?

Absolutely not.

And continued to get my master's as a nurse practitioner.

Man, fast forward to now, my 19-year-old daughter is getting pinned graduating with an RN degree, and she pushed me to get my doctorate in nursing so we could graduate together.

I come from a family that has never been to college, and now I have my doctorate with a daughter that is now an RN.

Unbelievable.

So, a huge hooray to my badass daughter, Megan, being an RN at 19 and taking her first job in an emergency room.

Megan doesn't care.

She's like, I am here first in line to help people.

I'm jumping in.

You got a motorcycle?

I'll be there.

I'm Megan.

I've listened since day one, and you ladies have helped me through studying and thesis.

Can you believe that?

No, we didn't.

What does that even mean?

Thanks for all your hours of entertainment.

Hooray to you, badass bitches.

Shelby.

Thanks, Shelby.

Dr.

Shelby.

Dr.

Shelby.

Dr.

Shelby, you did it.

Amazing.

Okay, this one is from YouTube.

It says, my hooray is that I finally, for the first time ever, played D ⁇ D this week.

See,

there's big things, there's smaller things, it's all important.

Hooray means something different to everyone.

That's right.

I have been wanting the joy of magical role-playing since realizing what DD is only a year ago.

And my beautiful coworkers from the school I work at, drama teachers, baby,

joined me and my son, nine, and we made my dream come true.

It was like disassociating in the most wonderful way possible, and I can't wait to play again.

So, hooray for friends, fantasy, and pretending to be a delusional wingless dragon, the J Nester.

Wow, Jane.

Jane?

Jay.

The J Nester.

The Jane.

Janester.

The Janester.

The Janester.

Yeah, Janester.

Yeah, I love that.

I do too.

I always thought it'd be too late for me to play D ⁇ D, but I guess not.

I always thought it wouldn't be believable because of the pretending.

Sure.

I'd be like, I guess I'm a troll.

And yet you're in a car right now reading.

This is only acting.

This is about as fake as it gets.

Okay, ready?

Mm-hmm.

This is also an email that says, hooray, but this has five exclamation points after, and it says, beautiful ladies, I've finally found a stable job.

Since completing my BS,

small C,

BSC.

Anyone with a college education?

Bachelor of Science and

Communication?

But then it says in international wildlife biology.

Dang it.

We didn't graduate college.

We don't know these classes.

So they did all that two years ago.

And working in the hospitality industry for the past 10 10 years I've been craving some sense of stability.

This new job isn't much, but it's providing me with routine, structure, and an amazing work-life balance, which I so desperately needed.

Does this mean I'm getting old?

Maybe, but I'm here for it.

I can't wait to go to bed early.

Izzy from Wales.

And then it says, P.S., be nice to your waiters.

They're dead inside.

That's true.

Yeah.

And your podcasters.

Yeah, that's...

Pretty much everybody.

Be nice.

Oh, yeah, be nice.

This one is an email and it says, hello, exactly right, folks.

Karen in Georgia.

My name is Erin.

I've been listening to MFM since high school along with my mom.

Shout out, Margo.

Margo.

I'm graduating from law school as one of the top students in my class.

Law school sucks, but it's in my past now.

To think that you guys have kept me sane and entertained since I was in high school and now I'm almost a lawyer is insane.

It is insane.

Hope it doesn't make you feel too old.

It does.

And for a bonus, my cat Yuzu, who has survived law school with me, is basically a cat lawyer.

Because the cat's just been there studying the whole time.

Basically, stay sexy and don't go to law school

unless you really want to.

Then go and be a badass Aaron M.

Aaron.

Amazing job.

Yeah.

You're a lawyer.

You did it.

Congratulations.

We're glad we were in high school with you.

Yes.

Weird.

We were popular in that high school, weren't we?

We made it work.

Is that it?

Yes, I think that's it.

Thank you, Hyundai, for sponsoring this wonderful segment.

Yeah, thanks, guys.

Bye.

Goodbye.

Elvis, do you want a cookie?

This has been an Exactly Right Production.

Our senior producers are Alejandra Keck and Molly Smith.

Our editor is Aristotle Aceveda.

This episode was mixed by Liana Squolachi.

Email your hometowns to myfavorite murder at gmail.com and follow the show on Instagram at MyFavorite Murder.

Listen to MyFavite Murder on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

and now you can watch us on exactly right's YouTube page and while you're there please like and subscribe goodbye bye-bye

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Hey, Oakland, California.

My Favorite Murder is back on tour.

Join us at the Paramount Theater on Thursday, October 2nd.

Don't wait.

The Friday, October 3rd show is already sold out.

Head to myfavoritemurder.com to buy tickets and your VIP package while supplies last.

Bye-bye.

Just like great shoes, great books take you places through unforgettable love stories and into conversations with characters you'll never forget.

I think any good romance, it gives me this feeling of like butterflies.

I'm Danielle Robet, and this is bookmarked by Reese's Book Club, the new podcast from Hello Sunshine and iHeart Podcasts, where we dive into the stories that shape us on the page and off.

Each week, I'm joined by authors, celebs, book talk stars, and more for conversations that will make you laugh, cry, and add way too many books to your TBR pile.

Listen to bookmarked by Reese's Book Club on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Apple Books is the official audiobook and e-book home for Reese's Book Club.

Visit apple.co forward slash Reese Apple Books to find out more.