MFM Minisode 425

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I feel so alone. I'm embarrassed to talk about it.
How can I help my kid? If I can't help myself, I can't remember when I wasn't stressed. I don't want to be doing but inside.
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Hello.

And welcome to My Favorite Murder.

That's Georgia Hartstark.

That's Karen Kilgariff. This is the mini-sode.
There you go. I did the wrong line.
That's okay. We got there in the end.
It feels like the idea that we don't introduce ourselves from the Minisode is really, it's very casual. Yeah.
It's like we're off the clock. Yeah, and you guys know.
It's presumptuous and yet familiar. And yet you're like, oh, these bitches.
I know who they are. They're doing it again.
I fucking know who these bitches are. Why don't you go first? Okay.
Starting off with a classic. Murder in my grandfather's laundromat, classic hometown.
Oh, it says, hi. While visiting my parents over the holidays, the topic of true crime came up.
My mom out of nowhere said, you know, someone was murdered at your grandpa's laundromat. Oh my God.
inside. My grandpa was taken into police custody.
He was the suspect of a murder. Early that morning, the body of a young woman had been discovered on a back road outside of our little Midwest farming town.
So scary. Yeah.
You're in a place that's like always quiet. There's not a lot going on.
Totally. And then a, I mean, that's the beginning of so many movies.
Yeah. Horrible.
Also discovered was a huge pool of blood trailing out the door of our family's laundromat. According to my mom, the victim was known to spend a lot of time at the laundromat.
Another man was known to spend a lot of time there as well, who, according to small-town gossip, had a thing for her. That guy was tracked down by police at a car wash, and then this is italicized and bolded, literally cleaning blood out of his car.
Can you say caught red-handed? Here's a quote directly from the case files. That's some serious work.
Quote, police then approached him, told him he was not under arrest, and indicated that they wanted to talk to him about the murder. At that point, the defendant told police that, quote, Monday was a bad day.
Oh, my God. End quote.
So obviously, my grandfather was very quickly dropped as a suspect. The man never admitted to the crime and appealed his case several times, but was sentenced to life in prison.
Word around town is that he killed several people. That was just the one murder he got caught for.
Yeah. There are a lot of details I'd love to add, but I'll leave you with this.
Forensic investigation was complicated because it became apparent that someone unidentified had been in the crime scene after the murder and before it was discovered by the police. Oh, no.
This person was later discovered to be a lady from town who had come in to do laundry and didn't tell anyone about the blood because, quote, that wasn't any of my business, end quote. Girl.
And then it just says, thanks, guys. No name.
Wow. Ma'am.
Like chilling detail. Right.
That you'd walk in and just have no emotions about it you know or whatever the emotions that you have about it there's something else in you that says getting involved is dangerous or bad for me or something that it's like not an option but it's almost like it makes sense to say it's none of your business if you're walking by outside and looking in. Right.
You step inside. You're part of the crime scene.
Yeah. Yeah.
Here in 2025, all of us step in or need to know that. Wow.
You're in it. Your DNA puts you in it.
That's right. That's a crazy one.
Yeah. All right.
Let's do it. 180? Yeah.
Okay. This is called Trash Kid, That Time I Committed Fraud.
Dear ladies, you've heard the trash dad stories. You know all about the trash uncles and the trash moms.
But what if I told you I was a trash kid and a criminal to boot? Okay, I'm sorry. But first of all, hell yes.
What were we thinking not asking for this from the beginning? Trash kids. Because my favorite trash kid of all time is the very, I think, year one story of the little boy who rode around on his bicycle.
Chopping down. Chopping down telephone poles with a fucking chainsaw.
Yeah, that got turned into an MFM animated. Like one of the first MFM animated.
And also by a listener artist got turned into a pin that was given me at a live show that I have and carry around with me to this day. It was like, for me, high art.
Yeah, it was really well done. Unbelievably beautiful.
Okay, so send us your trash kid stories. Yes, criminal.
Whether it's you or a sibling, we want to know. Please.
Everything you did that you got caught and in trouble for and then some. Okay.
So picture it. Northern Vermont, circa 1999.
My parents were a part of the Friday Night Bowling League. At this point, I'm about six years old, and rather than pay a babysitter, my parents dragged me along to sit at the bowling alley until late in the night.
Of course they did. Their fault.
Yeah. The bowling alley had a huge arcade, and little me loved basking in the flashing lights of the kid casino.
However, we didn't often have enough money for the arcade. All the money was earmarked for beer and pizza, obviously.
Yeah. And so I and the other kids were delegated to simply looking at the games and pretending that we were playing them, which is a thing I forgot completely.
Just pretending that you're playing them. Yeah.
Because they're showing you what could happen in the video game. And you're just pretending that you're trying to practice.
Yeah. Especially on Centipede.
Right. When you've lost all your money already playing fucking Pac-Man.
Like we'd usually get a dollar four quarters. So that's four tries.
Which is gone in a flash. Yes.

I mean, especially when you're like bad.

For us, they were literally the newest thing there was.

So we're just like, how do you control this centipede?

I've always been bad at them.

Yeah.

That was not enough.

So a small group of us hatched a diabolical plan that would get us all the quarters we could ever want.

And it seemed like such an easy solution.

We were cute.

Adults love cute kids, right?

Would adults just give cute kids money? Probably not. They needed a reason.
Sick kids. That's it.
We needed them to give us money to help sick kids. Oh, no.
That's right. If you hadn't figured out our grand plan, it was to stand near the entrance to the bowling alley and tell people as they entered that we were raising money for the local children's hospital.
Oh my. Over the course of roughly two hours, we had hoodwinked enough people to get almost $80 in donations.
That is so many fucking quarters. It was all going according to plan until it wasn't.
It turns out some of these adults had been talking with the manager about the cute little philanthropists at the front entrance, and the manager had no idea what they were talking about. Long story short, our parents were pulled from their games, and I didn't see the sun for weeks.
I also was dressed down by my mom, Becky, don't you dare call her Rebecca, who both instilled the fear of God in me and made me see the error of my ways. She was a small woman, but she made up for that with sheer volume and by being an absolute badass who raised six kids in a blended home.
We lost her in 2023 to a mixture of throat cancer and COPD. Don't smoke, kids.
Her loss has been the most profound of my life. Up until she lost the ability to speak, she was the person I called every day on my way home from work.
I told her everything. She was one of my biggest advocates when I came out as trans.
She was my favorite person. I honestly don't think I'd be a fraction

of the person I am today without her. Stay sexy and hug your mom.
She may just save you from a

life of crime. Ada, she, her.
Ada.

Ada, that was one of my favorite stories.

Just.

But you deserved everything Becky brought to you and more.

Yeah, you did.

80 bucks, though.

Becky had to be a little proud.

I mean.

Secretly.

Because also, I'm assuming, what, there were a handful of kids, five kids?

Yeah. Like, they would have been just golden in that arcade all night long.

Oh, my God.

And then some.

Oh, my God.

You're like, who wants candy more?

Thank you. I'm assuming, what, there were a handful of kids, five kids? Yeah.
Like, they would have been just golden in that arcade all night long. Oh, my God.
And then some. Oh, my God.
You're like, who wants candy? Want candy? Yeah. I'll go to a candy machine.
Yeah. Corndogs? Corndogs all around.
It almost feels like if you get past the finish line, you get to keep the money, and then you're in trouble. Right.
They didn't say what happened to the money. Also, how cute were these kids that without a bucket or any signage, they're just like...
They got it. I did it.
I don't know. I'm on the kid's side.
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Goodbye. The subject line of this email is my visit to the jack the ripper museum in london so you and i haven't talked about the fact that they are claiming that they have

solved the jack the murder case jack the ripper what did i just say jack the murder

do you mind if i don't pay attention while i'm talking during this one

is that okay necessary yeah we'll talk about it i'm i skeptical. Me too.
So let's wait until it's verified. I'm also skeptical because, oh, by the way, back on TikTok.
People were telling me how to tell you to get back on it. I mean, God bless our listeners who I got so many messages on Blue Sky, like so nice.
Here's how to do it, yeah. But one of the first things I saw was someone that was talking about that and how it's like, oh, okay, so just this apron or whatever that's been sitting there for years and anyone could touch.
Yeah. Interesting.
We should talk about that. Yeah.
Yeah, we will. Should we do, like, a retro style and just do a one-subject Jack the Ripper episode? We could.
Retell the whole story. Mm-hmm.
Okay. It says, Hi, ladies and all MFM family.
Pretty much a day one listener and a second-time writer. Thank you so much for getting me through a lot of time in the hospital over the last few years having multiple surgeries for endometriosis.
Rough. I've lived just outside of London my whole life, but somehow I didn't know until recently that there was a Jack the Ripper museum.
Did you know that? No, but why wouldn't there be? Like, it makes sense. And also, why didn't I go there when I was so smart trying to cover Jack the Ripper? I mean, why wouldn't there be? Is that what you just said? Yeah.
Because that's what this email says. Sorry.
My son is also a murderino at the age of 14, and he's studying law and criminology. So when I was looking for days out for us to do together, we were both excited to discover this little gem of a museum.
It's set in a townhouse type building over four floors and close to the Tower of London and to the Ripper's hunting grounds. There are sections dedicated to the victims, the suspects, and reconstructions of one of the crime scenes and of what the Ripper's living room may have looked like,

where you can hunt for clues as to his identity.

We were absolutely in our element.

Some of the best things we saw were the letters written to the police from Jack the Ripper and also the whistle used by one of the policemen who found the body of Catherine Eddowes.

Wow.

Yeah, that would be so creepy and fascinating to see the reconstruction of a crime scene of those murders.

God.

Okay.

I would like to thank have done the walking tour too, but those cobbled streets don't go well with my wheelchair. Your idea for a virtual walking tour is perfect for me.
Great. Yeah.
I love that. Just as an extra fact, the town I live in used to house the asylum that Aaron Kaczynski, one of the suspects, who's the suspect they think they've identified through DNA, spent his final days.
It is now a park that is supposedly haunted. It's the hauntedest park in park land.
I mean, a haunted park, though, where it's like we're the ghosts from the building that used to be here. Yeah.
We're still here. You'd knock the building down.
Get off my bench. Yeah.
I hate squirrels. Okay.
Also, my husband works for the Freemasons, and I like to joke that his employers are the reason Jack the Ripper was never caught. SSDGM and keep trying to solve the Ripper mystery.
Sarah, she, her. Sarah must have written that before this DNA stuff came out.
I mean, if Sarah's a day one listener and a second time writer, this could easily be from 1997 and we just don't realize it. Wow.
Okay. Yeah.
We're going to have to get into that. Yeah.
All right. This one's called Glitch in the Matrix slash Instant Karma.
And I love it because I love those Glitch in the Matrix stories. Hi, ladies.
This story was buried deep in the recesses of my sleep-deprived brain, but it came rushing back to me while listening to a recent hometown. It was the early 2000s.
I was a junior in high school. My friend and I were enjoying some chicken nuggets at Wendy's across town.
Just the kind of crazy shit me and my bad girl crew used to get up to in high school. Just kidding.
We were nerds. When a somewhat disheveled woman came rushing into the restaurant, she scanned the place and came over to our table.
This woman launched into a long story about how her car had run out of gas just before the exit and she had to abandon it, but she didn't have any money to buy gas because she left her wallet at home. And can we please give her some spare change so she could buy some gas just enough to get her back to her house?

My friend shot me a skeptical look.

I peeked in my wallet, hesitated for a moment, then handed over my last $5 bill.

The woman looked shocked that her story worked, question mark, and said, oh, no, that's too much. And I said, well, that's all I've got.

Besides, that's not much gas.

Thank you so much.

I'll come right back once I get my wallet. I'll pay you back.
Don't worry about it, I shrugged. It's good karma.
My friend rolled her eyes as the woman walked out. I bet she doesn't even have a car.
You got played. Yeah, probably, I thought.
The next day at school, I was packing up my things after a play rehearsal. I picked up my backpack from the auditorium seat to find a crisp $5 bill sitting under it.
Now, mind you, these were the auditorium seats that fold up if there's nothing holding them down, like in the movie theater. So this had to have been placed very carefully under my backpack.
I looked around in disbelief. I even called my friend to ask if she snuck the money under there, but she had no idea what I was talking about.
Quick turnaround for that karma, I guess. Just was there.
And there's probably no way that woman knew where they went to school or anything. No, and it was a scam probably, which is fine.
But it just happened. Maybe she put her bag down earlier.
For the exact same amount? I know. And it's crisp.
Wild. Yeah, like someone went to the bank.
Yeah. Just fucking happened.
What? A couple decades later, I now work as an emergency room doctor. Every day, I meet people in desperate circumstances, some of which they share with me and some things they don't.
I have a few minutes to try and gain the patient's trust. When it goes well, it can be incredibly rewarding.
When it doesn't, I try to remind myself that you don't need to know or understand a person's whole story to act with kindness, and that kindness will usually make its way back to you. Thank you for the incredible stories you share every week.
This podcast has accompanied me on countless drives to and from the ER and stroller walks with my baby and toddler. And it says, see sleep deprivation reference above.
The work you do to help humans understand each other is important, and I am grateful whenever I can listen. Stay sexy and trust in karma.
Victoria. Victoria, an emergency room doctor telling us that our work is...
I know. What the fuck? Come on.
What a lovely message. Also, just that's such a hard job.
Emergency room. It's like it's the kind of thing where it's like you have a job where it's the emotional equivalent of somebody that will every night, right when you're at your most asleep, open your bedroom door and start screaming.

Right.

I mean, I mean, I make fucking TV shows about it.

Like there's no drama TV shows.

There's.

Yeah, exactly.

For a reason.

That is like that is the ultimate drama.

Yeah, it's called ER.

It's like that's how hard it is. God, that was a good show.
So good. Thanks, exactly.
For a reason. That is like, that is the ultimate drama.
Yeah, it's called ER. It's like, that's how hard it is.
God, that was a good show. It was so good.
Thanks, Victoria. Hey, Karen, I want you to picture yourself going for a drive.
What comes to mind? Not ever being able to merge on any freeway in Los Angeles and potholes and crying. Oh, yeah.
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The subject line of this email is kind of cute ghost story, question mark in parentheses. Cute ghost story.
Okay. It says, hello, all animals included.
I'm pretty new here and have just started listening to the podcast a few months ago. Of course, from the beginning, as I don't want to feel excluded from inside jokes.
We got to tell you, all these jokes are just repeating. There's nothing inside that's confusing.
Yeah, but it could be fun. Well, yeah, I mean, definitely start from the beginning.
Okay, so even though it's been a while since you guys have talked about ghosts, or at least up until episode 263. Oh Oh my God.
We have so many fucking, we got to pause like this podcast so that people can catch up. You know what I mean? Yeah.
That's a great idea. Take a few months off.
Everyone catch up. Yeah.
We'll meet you back here because we just keep adding and it's too many. I know.
It's really hard. It seems like we should go on vacation.
Wait. That's why I did the rewind episodes, right? Yes, exactly.
That's a good one. To help people catch up.
That's why. To access that easier.
Yeah. Okay.
A few weeks ago, I witnessed something ghost related. I knew I had to share it with you.
So here I go. It was a Friday night and we were home alone at my best friend's house.
We were pretty baked and had the munchies. So we headed to the kitchen to look for snacks.
As we did that, we never stopped talking. We talked for what felt like hours, and then all of a sudden we stopped.
What could have been a comfortable silence was actually much weirder. The kitchen door, which was almost shut, opened in a manner that only a gentle hand on the other side coming into the kitchen could have opened.
I must have looked clearly disturbed as my friend looked at me and said, don't worry, it's my great grandma. I asked her to please be clearer as my weed induced paranoia was about to kick in.
And she proceeded to explain that the apartment we were currently in was where her great grandma used to live up until she passed away. Holy shit.
Ever since my friend has been living there, there's always doors shutting or opening just like that day as if she were still walking perfectly alive around the house. as it's hers.
They just say hello. Oh my God.

Even though I almost threw up out of fear, this story made me feel better. Plus, I've always felt welcomed there and the lady had great taste in furniture.

Damn.

Days after that, I remembered something my own grandma used to say when we were all talking and conversations would suddenly end at the same time. I'm not going to pronounce this correctly because I don't speak Spanish, but I'm going to attempt.
Paso un angel, which is an angel passed by. So that comforted me too, in a way.
I mean, at least it's an angel and not anything else, right? Now that I've written it down, it sounds way less scary than it actually felt at the time. I get it.
It's like explaining a dream to someone. And you're like, no, you don't get it.
They say, so just try to remember the whole thing was happening while being high, which made it a thousand times scarier. But it is eerie because when things like that happen, if it was just kind of like a weird, you know, the wind or something, that has a feel to it.
a door just kind of very slowly opening yeah for no reason to wrap it up i'd like to say i've always been the freak about murders and crime in my family and groups of friends and that i really feel at home listening to you guys wish you all the best julietta from uruguay and then in parentheses it says pretty fucking far away. We feel at home here too.
And the house is haunted for sure. Whatever home this is, that we've made, it's haunted.
That great grandma is strolling around, trying to be like, girls, do you have to smoke that much pot? Or can we make cookies and do some arts and crafts? Oh, that was good. Okay.
My last one's short. Okay.
I'm not going to tell you the name of it. It just starts.
I just listened to The Hometown about a listener

bumping into Aretha Franklin, and I have to tell you about the time I spilled a drink on Jane

Goodall. Oh, my God.
Wait, are you a monkey? She's just throwing her drink in her face.

I was a PhD student studying chimpanzees and was attending my first major conference, and Jane Goodall, obviously an icon, was the keynote speaker. I was also like 22 and new to wine.
At the reception after Goodall's keynote, I was holding a glass of red wine someone had handed me and trying to make small talk with big name scientists.

Hello, imposter syndrome.

When I turned around to grab a bacon wrapped shrimp or something equally exciting for a broke grad student from a passing waiter.

But alas, right behind me was Jane Goodall and my drink went all caps everywhere.

My only consolation is that because of Jane Goodall's prosopagnosiaia which is the inability to recognize faces she will never know it was me nice don't call me out just call me e ssdgm e prosopagnosia prosopagnosia yeah yeah you say that allia. I feel like, because it's just a coincidence, I just saw a clip of Jane Goodall and her team releasing a chimpanzee, I believe, into the wild.
And she seems like, just in this clip, so incredibly serious and kind of like, I feel like we couldn't pick a worse person to throw throw wine on. No, she's like an iconic, intelligent, probably pretty serious, you know, serious minded person.
But if you know Jane Goodall to be different, please write in at my favorite murder at Gmail. Oh, my God.
What have we got? Jane Goodall is a bad tipper. The full T.
We're trying to cancel Janeinko. No, no, no, no, no.

We're the kindest, probably best people ever.

Oh my God. Okay.
Send us your

embarrassing stories like that. Did Jinko

steal your boyfriend? Let us know.

My favorite murder at Gmail.

Thanks, listeners. Thank you.

We love you.

We're here for you. Stay sexy.

And don't get murdered.

Goodbye, Jinko. Elvis, do you want a cookie? This has been an Exactly Right production.
Our senior producer is Alejandra Keck. Our editor is Aristotle Acevedo.
This episode was mixed by Liana Squalachi. Email your hometowns to myfavoritemurder at gmail.com.
And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at My Favorite Murder. Goodbye.
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