Speaker 1: Hello and welcome my favorite murder.
Speaker 2: This is the minisode, Yes it is. This is the
Speaker 2: minisode doing this for years.
Speaker 1: It's fine.
Speaker 2: We know what we're doing, and we always.
Speaker 1: Have trust us. Trust us with your life.
Speaker 2: We're and your emails which you sent to us.
Speaker 1: As she did, and we're going to read them. Good job,
Speaker 1: good intro, Thanks so much.
Speaker 2: You want to go first?
Speaker 1: This is for Mother's Day?
Speaker 2: Oh yes, So we're doing kind of an unconventional salute
Speaker 2: to motherlike figures or mother's or mother's situation.
Speaker 1: The way they've shown up for you in different ways.
Speaker 2: In any way a mother or a mother like figure
Speaker 2: can't No, one's going to check this. We can do
Speaker 2: it anyway we want to.
Speaker 1: Okay. This one is Tram, a fan call member named Aaron,
Speaker 1: and it starts Sadako made my childhood better, my adolescence tolerable,
Speaker 1: and my adulthood enjoyable. My uncle's mother in law. Sadako
Speaker 1: a tiny, feisty, funny Japanese woman who who brooked no
Speaker 1: shit from anyone something.
Speaker 2: Yeah brooke, Well it's brooken. Something that's like an old
Speaker 2: fashioned saying brook.
Speaker 1: No, Uh, what's it called? Quarter? Yes? Really?
Speaker 2: I think so.
Speaker 1: Definitely that's purely from yeah, who brooked no shit from anyone?
Speaker 1: Made my life so much better. She says, this is
Speaker 1: the mother in law of her uncle, which is like
Speaker 1: so random and you don't even have to be nice
Speaker 1: to that first.
Speaker 2: But she's yes, exactly, But those are the people that
Speaker 2: at like the family functions where you're like, I need
Speaker 2: to go sit by Sadako because she's totally okay.
Speaker 1: She would slip me candy, clean the glass door so
Speaker 1: well I walked into them more than once. Made me
Speaker 1: feel seen and encouraged me to live my life before
Speaker 1: doing any anything my other relatives expected of me, i e. Marriage, children,
Speaker 1: and all that bs that was pressed upon me starting
Speaker 1: at fourteen. Gross.
Speaker 2: I love that she slipped and cleaned the glass windows
Speaker 2: so we walked into them.
Speaker 1: Yeah, like that's how dedicated she was.
Speaker 2: Whatever she was doing, it sounded to me like two
Speaker 2: plus's and a minus. They're hidden in there.
Speaker 1: As an adult, my home intentionally was located near hers.
Speaker 1: We would do store runs, lunches out picture all ninety
Speaker 1: pounds of her eating a massive Wagoo birger the size
Speaker 1: of her face, shared treats from her family in Japan,
Speaker 1: some great and some I learned were absolutely foul as
Speaker 1: I ate it, much to her joy, and generally demanded
Speaker 1: that any event I was required to attend, that I
Speaker 1: would be the one to show for her, so we
Speaker 1: could bail early and just have a nice drive home
Speaker 1: where we would take detours to just drive through all
Speaker 1: the green and sunshine in spring and summer. She passed
Speaker 1: April sixteenth, twenty twenty two, and I cherish the memories
Speaker 1: I have with her. While the rest of my extended
Speaker 1: family doesn't understand or even really know how much she
Speaker 1: meant to me, she is still a light in my life.
Speaker 1: Pictures I have of her holding my firstborn, a daughter,
Speaker 1: and her telling me that I did everything right and
Speaker 1: that she was so proud of me and whatever I
Speaker 1: did carries me through when times are hard. She is
Speaker 1: loved and missed every day. Everyone have someone like her
Speaker 1: in their life. Aaron, And before we started, you were like,
Speaker 1: you're gonna create your no. No, but you said I'm
Speaker 1: gonna cry, I'm gonna break, and I'm like, I don't
Speaker 1: break for mothers, but this is what I want to be.
Speaker 2: I don't break for mother but this is.
Speaker 1: What I want to be in someone's life. When I'm older,
Speaker 1: because I don't have kids.
Speaker 2: You are with Micah, like with your nephews, I don't care,
Speaker 2: but they don't. A girl, you don't act like they
Speaker 2: don't care. I mean they act like I don't care,
Speaker 2: but they do. Because that's the other thing, is I
Speaker 2: think that anti position. It's not about you giving them
Speaker 2: anything they give to you and you just kind of follow. Yeah,
Speaker 2: and that's the piece of it. Okay, you know.
Speaker 1: This is what I aspire to be, is sabaka sadako?
Speaker 2: Maybe all okay, break, I don't break for mine, I
Speaker 2: don't break for mothers. And people are driving behind you, like,
Speaker 2: what is what is the fot her problem?
Speaker 1: Okay?
Speaker 2: The subject line of this is that one time my
Speaker 2: adoptive parents stole me lighthearted and it says, I'll just
Speaker 2: jump right in. I was removed from my home when
Speaker 2: I was eight years old and raised by my aunt
Speaker 2: and uncle, who would eventually become my parents. Before this happened,
Speaker 2: though I had seen some seriously bad parenting for a
Speaker 2: few years. My biological mother tried to get sober many times,
Speaker 2: and during one impromptu's rehabs day, she left me at
Speaker 2: her sleezy friend Lany's apartment. This woman liked pills a
Speaker 2: lot and frequently fell asleep while driving me around. One time,
Speaker 2: she thought she was parked and took her foot off
Speaker 2: the break and we slowly crept down a small hill
Speaker 2: into oncoming traffic. I got to save the day that day,
Speaker 2: eight years old. I mean, I don't ever remember telling
Speaker 2: anyone all the crazy shenanigans this lady got us into.
Speaker 2: But somehow my badass aunt an RN knew I wasn't safe.
Speaker 2: She came up with a sneaky plan that I never
Speaker 2: knew about until years later, when she nostalgically asked me,
Speaker 2: remember that time I stole you from Lany's. I did
Speaker 2: remember being there for an entire summer, but couldn't remember details.
Speaker 2: Her plan was to tell Lanie that they were having
Speaker 2: a birthday party for my cousin and she would pick
Speaker 2: me up and they could make arrangements to return me
Speaker 2: after the party. Later that day, Laney called to ask
Speaker 2: if I was ready to be picked up, and my
Speaker 2: aunt answered with a simple no, thanks, We've got it
Speaker 2: from here and never brought me back.
Speaker 1: Oh my god, okay, it's going to get me.
Speaker 2: I had no idea any of this went on, since
Speaker 2: I was used to being shuffled around and these people
Speaker 2: seemed nice. My aunt, who eventually became my adoptive mother
Speaker 2: ssdgmed and got me the.
Speaker 1: F out of there.
Speaker 2: Stay sexy and when in doubt, steal your niece. Side note,
Speaker 2: I realized I was one of the lucky ones. Hold on, God,
Speaker 2: damn it, this is what this whole thing is about.
Speaker 2: I know the people who understand how at risk children
Speaker 2: can be, even when it's not the worst.
Speaker 1: Totally situation totally.
Speaker 2: I realized I was one of the lucky ones. I
Speaker 2: was not one of the many children who have to
Speaker 2: gather their belongings in trash bags and be thrown into
Speaker 2: a scary situation. I'm forever grateful and pay it forward
Speaker 2: whenever I can. Love you all.
Speaker 1: Sarah, Oh my god, Sarah.
Speaker 2: Sarah and her badass aunt. That's just like nanwa. Yeah,
Speaker 2: it's gorgeous, so good.
Speaker 1: Okay, this is wedding dress treasure, dear fellow la peoples
Speaker 1: and creatures. In two thousand and eight, my mom was
Speaker 1: diagnosed with mesothelioma, that bitch of a cancer caused by asbestos. Horrible.
Speaker 1: She underwent chemotherapy and refused to lose a single hair
Speaker 1: on her head because she was too stubborn and vain
Speaker 1: for that.
Speaker 3: Shit.
Speaker 2: How did she do that?
Speaker 1: I don't know. Wow, that's amazing, Like.
Speaker 2: I'm not doing it well.
Speaker 1: Her long term prognosis wasn't great. She was doing pretty
Speaker 1: well and underwent cancer related surgery in February two thousand
Speaker 1: and nine. The exhortation was for her to come through
Speaker 1: the surgery, and my siblings and I were planning on
Speaker 1: taking turns caring for her after the surgery back in
Speaker 1: our hometown in Pennsylvania. The things didn't go as planned,
Speaker 1: and she died from complications from the surgery on her
Speaker 1: sixty ninth birthday, so we ended up unexpectedly planning a
Speaker 1: funeral and packing up her house. In the weeks following
Speaker 1: her death, I was going through a cardboard box of
Speaker 1: photos from the sixties, and at the bottom of the box,
Speaker 1: under all these photos there was a crumpled up plastic
Speaker 1: bag with what looked like a lace tablecloth. My mother
Speaker 1: was exceedingly organized, so it was odd to have something
Speaker 1: stuffed randomly in there, but I pulled it out to
Speaker 1: see what it was. I shook it out, took it
Speaker 1: out of the plastic bag and was surprised to see
Speaker 1: that it was her wedding dress from when she married
Speaker 1: my father in nineteen sixty five. White dress, knee length
Speaker 1: Empire waste with long lace sleeves, one that Georgia would love.
Speaker 1: And I have a photo of it and it looks
Speaker 1: identical to fucking going My actual wedding fits for real,
Speaker 1: pretty much, not a stain on it, not a tear,
Speaker 1: not a riff, basically in perfect condition, despite being stored
Speaker 1: in the worst way for over forty years. I tried
Speaker 1: it on because, of course, and it fit me perfectly
Speaker 1: sweet right. But it was especially meaningful because right before
Speaker 1: her surgery I had told my mom on the phone
Speaker 1: that my boyfriend and I were looking for a house
Speaker 1: and were planning on getting married. My first marriage had
Speaker 1: gone down in flames, and the fact that I was
Speaker 1: getting remarried to a man who loved me and my
Speaker 1: two young daughters made her incredibly happy. According to my sister,
Speaker 1: she was singing going to the chapel when she came
Speaker 1: out of the surgery. In twenty ten, ten months after
Speaker 1: my mom died, I wore her perfect dress and walked
Speaker 1: with my two little girls in the backyard of our
Speaker 1: new home to marry my amazing husband. I feel like
Speaker 1: it was my mom's way of being at the wedding,
Speaker 1: even when she couldn't be there. Below our photos of
Speaker 1: my mom Kathy and dad Dan good job, thank you
Speaker 1: on their wedding day, and one of me in the
Speaker 1: dress on mine. Oh and please make those fuck you
Speaker 1: I'm remarried sweats, Oh because I need them. Why have
Speaker 1: we never thought brilliant? Thanks for all you've done in
Speaker 1: so many ways SSDGM, and remember to not pack cool
Speaker 1: family heirlooms and zip locked bags in cardboard boxes ever. Julie,
Speaker 1: And so I think we can show the photos. Look
Speaker 1: at that dress I have the Iridge, she's amazing. And
Speaker 1: then let's see that is your dress, Julie, it is.
Speaker 1: It's crazy like the scallop top.
Speaker 2: Yes, oh so beautiful. I'm not trying to cut in
Speaker 2: on your thing. But that also looks like my wedding
Speaker 2: dress because I wore my really sweating dress.
Speaker 1: Yeah you were your mom wedding.
Speaker 2: Yeah, and similar vibe. It was just longer, yeah, pretty,
Speaker 2: so pretty. You know what, Maybe it's the thing of
Speaker 2: their like it's not the classic mother's day because her
Speaker 2: mother died, right, right, But I love the idea of
Speaker 2: a mother that has fucking mesothelioma. It was like trying
Speaker 2: to like get through every day and is like, I
Speaker 2: have to make sure she finds this dress so she
Speaker 2: sticks it in a box. Yeah, okay, So this one,
Speaker 2: the subject line is Sarahgate mother. It says, hey, folks,
Speaker 2: growing up, my mother was a raging narcissist with the
Speaker 2: dead eyes and emotions of a four hundred year old shark.
Speaker 1: That wow, that's the best description I've ever heard of anyone, Like,
Speaker 1: I know what you're talking about.
Speaker 2: I mean, that's right, just get it right out there.
Speaker 2: My dad was a vodka soak guitar player, still chasing
Speaker 2: his dreams of stardom while mentally being stuck in the eighties.
Speaker 2: They did their best to raise me while still being
Speaker 2: kids themselves, but there was always a very deep lack
Speaker 2: of emotion in our relationship, and I felt alone a lot.
Speaker 2: My childhood best friend's mother became my Sarah Gate mother.
Speaker 2: Her name was Barbara. A teenager growing up in the eighties,
Speaker 2: she had the best stories. She partied with some of
Speaker 2: the musicians I was obsessed with. She encouraged me to
Speaker 2: be myself, but she also called me on my bullshit.
Speaker 2: Since the second grade, she bought me clothes and let
Speaker 2: me sleep over at her house whenever I needed a
Speaker 2: break from my own.
Speaker 1: I'm sorry, I knew it. I was reading these was like,
Speaker 1: Karen is going to fucking lose.
Speaker 2: I mean it's like, A, did I not eat breakfast?
Speaker 2: But B this That's how my mom grew up because
Speaker 2: both of her parents were alcoholics, and my aunt, kay
Speaker 2: Kirkpatrick Antoni Giovanni was her best friend and she was
Speaker 2: raised by them. So when we were growing up, we
Speaker 2: had my grandma, who he loved and was great, but
Speaker 2: then we had the Kirkpatrick's that I was always like,
Speaker 2: who are these people who are also our grandparents? Yeah?
Speaker 1: I mean I was thinking about like your friends and
Speaker 1: neighbors and this person, and you call people cousins like
Speaker 1: you have a huge, huge yes. So I was like,
Speaker 1: she's going to cry it every single way.
Speaker 2: There's I'm going to relate to every single person.
Speaker 1: If we do a cat episode, I'll cry it every
Speaker 1: single one.
Speaker 3: Uh.
Speaker 2: She even drove me all over town for an entire
Speaker 2: day looking for an apartment to move into. When I
Speaker 2: was seventeen, and my own mother told me she couldn't
Speaker 2: afford to have me live in her house anymore. She
Speaker 2: was righteously funny, sarcastic, and I loved her. She adopted
Speaker 2: me as her own child, and her house became my
Speaker 2: safe space until I was almost twenty. She taught me
Speaker 2: a lot. Barbara passed away in her sleep from a
Speaker 2: heart attack in her late forties in twenty eighteen.
Speaker 1: That's tough. Wow.
Speaker 2: Mostly I miss hearing her voice because it had a charming,
Speaker 2: calming quality to it. I found that same feeling, and
Speaker 2: the voices of your podcast, Oh, God damn it wow,
Speaker 2: also was on the second page. Didn't surprise hold for emotion.
Speaker 2: You both have similar voices to Barbara, and very similar
Speaker 2: senses of humor. I know she would have loved your podcast,
Speaker 2: and I would have shown it to her if I'd
Speaker 2: discovered it back then. Sometimes when I listened to the podcast,
Speaker 2: God damn it. Sometimes when I listen to the podcast,
Speaker 2: I can imagine what it would be like discussing current
Speaker 2: events with her if she were here.
Speaker 1: This is Oh my god, I do that all the
Speaker 1: time with my mom. You do well?
Speaker 2: Yeah, she would fucking love this, so much. She would
Speaker 2: think it was amazing, like, oh my god, sorry.
Speaker 1: God, you hen me. No, it's good that one of us.
Speaker 2: That was like, I think this is the point of this,
Speaker 2: which is, this is what Mother's Day is like for
Speaker 2: people whose mothers are gone or who never had them
Speaker 2: in the first place. It's just what it's like. This
Speaker 2: is just one of the many reasons why I love
Speaker 2: what you do. It helps combat the loneliness of losing
Speaker 2: someone you care about deeply to remember them fondly, and
Speaker 2: you both help me to do that. It's truly a gift.
Speaker 2: And then it just says Jazz.
Speaker 1: God, I never thought of us in that way.
Speaker 2: I know.
Speaker 1: I mean, we call each other aunties all the time.
Speaker 3: But like, actually what that means? Yeah, jazz, you said Jazz. Jazz,
Speaker 3: Thanks Jazz. Thanks for making me cry on TV. Jazz
Speaker 3: very unprofessional.
Speaker 1: We contain moreitudes all the tears. You also look pretty
Speaker 1: when you cry, which is fucking hard to do. I
Speaker 1: don't look pretty when I cry.
Speaker 2: That's hilarious because to me, I look like an Like
Speaker 2: the second I have emotion, my eyes turn bright red.
Speaker 1: No they don't.
Speaker 2: It always looks crazy to me.
Speaker 1: Same for me.
Speaker 2: Yeah, why are we we're criticizing our appearance while we're
Speaker 2: having an emotion.
Speaker 1: That's the fun.
Speaker 2: That's old, that's nineties. Shit, it's weird. Get rid of it.
Speaker 1: Yeah, okay, not all spirits like the dark is my
Speaker 1: last one? Oh, get ready to cry. Okay, if you
Speaker 1: don't cry this one, something's wrong. Hey my favorite Murderino
Speaker 1: Babes and four legged Friends. So my best friend Sierra's
Speaker 1: mom passed away unexpectedly in twenty fifteen, and it shattered
Speaker 1: everyone who knew her. She was the neighborhood mom who
Speaker 1: took care of every child as if they were her own,
Speaker 1: and since I grew up with my best friend, her
Speaker 1: mother was like a second mom to me. Because of
Speaker 1: her unexpected passing, her landlord was very kind and gave
Speaker 1: us extra time to arrange her belongings and get every
Speaker 1: removed from her condo. Sierra and I were finishing everything
Speaker 1: up and left only a single lamp in the house,
Speaker 1: a cheap dollar store six foot lamp shot all the
Speaker 1: lights off and locked up. When we were pulling out,
Speaker 1: we looked back at the house one last time, trying
Speaker 1: to remember all the great times we shared there, and
Speaker 1: noticed that the lamp that was left in her mother's
Speaker 1: room was on. Thinking one of us must have not
Speaker 1: flipped the switch all the way or some bullshit, I
Speaker 1: parked my truck and went back in to turn off
Speaker 1: the light. This time I knew one hundred percent that
Speaker 1: the light was off and continued to lock up the house.
Speaker 1: When we went to leave, the light was on. At
Speaker 1: this point, we thought someone's playing a dumb prank on us,
Speaker 1: so we both went in and took one last look around.
Speaker 1: Of course, the house was empty, so this time, for
Speaker 1: good measure, we unplugged the lamp, and Sierra even moved
Speaker 1: the lamp away from the outlet, which was by the window,
Speaker 1: to the opposite side of the room, and we closed
Speaker 1: the door, thinking that it must have been some freak
Speaker 1: occurrence or that we were both just mentally exhausted from
Speaker 1: the recent events. When we walked outside, we both looked
Speaker 1: up at her mother's bedroom window and saw the light
Speaker 1: was off, and we laughed for a second, climbed back
Speaker 1: into my truck and went to leave. When we reversed out,
Speaker 1: Sierra took one last look and I saw her jaw drop.
Speaker 1: The fucking light was on again and the lamp was
Speaker 1: back by the window.
Speaker 2: Whoa.
Speaker 1: At that point we said fuck it and agreed that
Speaker 1: her mom prefers the lights on. Looking back, now, we
Speaker 1: laugh about it and take solace in the fact that
Speaker 1: she's still with us and still finds ways to make
Speaker 1: us smile. Thank you for bearing with me through this email,
Speaker 1: as I am not the best writer. That's not true.
Speaker 1: Yes you are.
Speaker 2: Yeah, that was a great story.
Speaker 1: I also want to say thank you for helping people
Speaker 1: be more aware of mental illness and helping erase the
Speaker 1: stigma that comes with having a mental illness. I used
Speaker 1: to be so ashamed and scared of my mental illnesses,
Speaker 1: but over the years I have learned that my mental
Speaker 1: illnesses don't define me or control what I am capable of.
Speaker 1: Much love from Columbus, Ohio. Alie, Kay, Alie.
Speaker 2: My mom would be so excited you say.
Speaker 1: That that's so BEAUTI yeah, totally.
Speaker 2: But also, I mean if I was in that draw
Speaker 2: in that parking lot and I looked back up, I
Speaker 2: would have just been like, yeah, someone call the police
Speaker 2: or something like holy shit.
Speaker 1: No, it's so I love those little unexplained things that
Speaker 1: you're just like, of course it's what it is.
Speaker 2: Yeah, of course it's that they just need you to
Speaker 2: know that.
Speaker 1: They love you. Yeah. It's like a little wink.
Speaker 2: Yeah, Okay, here's my last one. It says, uh, my
Speaker 2: honorary mom is a subject line. This is high KNG.
Speaker 2: Been listening since twenty eighteen. Love you gals, et cetera.
Speaker 2: My honorary mom was Missus Hamstra, my seventh grade math teacher.
Speaker 2: She helped me overcome the intense feeling of failure after
Speaker 2: a very terrible year of sixth grade math. Not only
Speaker 2: did she help in still confidence, but she taught in
Speaker 2: such a way where math no longer felt hard to me.
Speaker 2: I mean, that's a great teacher. Missus Hamstra opened up
Speaker 2: her classroom to me in the early morn when I
Speaker 2: had to be dropped off at seven point thirty and
Speaker 2: school didn't start until nine to twenty. I'm a teacher now,
Speaker 2: and there's not a snowballs chance in hell i'd be
Speaker 2: at work that early.
Speaker 1: Or real. I had a teacher that let me in
Speaker 1: at lunch when I didn't have any friends and like
Speaker 1: eat lunch in her And then I didn't have lunch too,
Speaker 1: and so she gave me lunch like half a sandwich
Speaker 1: or whatever.
Speaker 2: Yeah, she listened to me laughed with me and allowed
Speaker 2: me to be my weird middle school self, all while
Speaker 2: encouraging and reminding me that though math was hard, I
Speaker 2: was capable. Middle school is should be illegal. It's the
Speaker 2: fucking worst.
Speaker 1: You are at your worst hormonally, physically, mentally, Like none
Speaker 1: of it makes sense.
Speaker 2: There's a family picture of me, and I'm in seventh
Speaker 2: grade and I'm still wearing like those little mini ponytails,
Speaker 2: like my hair's down, but then mini ponytails and like overalls,
Speaker 2: and I was just like, I'm dressed like I'm in
Speaker 2: four It's great.
Speaker 1: You haven't figured out if you're this or that yet
Speaker 1: a grown up or a kid? Right, and then you
Speaker 1: call break recess and everyone expended to you. I mean,
Speaker 1: I was just recess fucking a year ago. The rules
Speaker 1: keep changing. Yeah, it's bullshit. Okay, fast forward a few years.
Speaker 2: Missus Hamster and I kept in touch, and I learned
Speaker 2: the devastating news that she had als. She sold all
Speaker 2: of her belongings and moved to Columbia to become an
Speaker 2: English and math teacher. She said she wanted to experience
Speaker 2: life before she could no longer. Missus Hamster had the
Speaker 2: adventure of a lifetime, and though I never got to
Speaker 2: hear all these stories, not long after she returned back home,
Speaker 2: her ALS got worse. Despite battling such a terrible disease,
Speaker 2: she always made sure to make her friends, family, and
Speaker 2: former students feel heard and seen and loved. Missus Hamster
Speaker 2: passed away in twenty twenty two after a long and
Speaker 2: valiant battle with als. She's the reason I am a
Speaker 2: teacher today. Come on, and I hope that I can
Speaker 2: make my students feel confident, seen and heard because middle
Speaker 2: school sucks, but one teacher can truly make a difference.
Speaker 2: Thank you, Tyler, she her, Oh my god, Tyler. Also
Speaker 2: all the themes here women total, the power of women,
Speaker 2: women knowing their responsibility.
Speaker 1: Their empathy, their like connection to other humans.
Speaker 2: In a way that that really they can make up
Speaker 2: for so much horror. And just like that, Karen kindness
Speaker 2: and awareness, the Karen kindness, Karen kindness Murderinas.
Speaker 1: You can be this to someone else at some point
Speaker 1: in your life. So I'll always look for opportunities where
Speaker 1: you can do that for someone someone else, And it's
Speaker 1: just so meaningful.
Speaker 2: Pick a middle school girl, they need you, dude, yes
Speaker 2: please uh and stay sex and don't get murdered.
Speaker 1: Goodbye, Elvis. Do you want a cookie? Ah?
Speaker 2: This has been an exactly right production.
Speaker 1: Our senior producer is Molly Smith and our associate producer
Speaker 1: is Tessa Hughes.
Speaker 2: Our editor is Aristotle Ascevedo.
Speaker 1: This episode was mixed by Leona Squalacci.
Speaker 2: Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder at gmail dot com.
Speaker 1: Follow the show on Instagram at my Favorite Murder.
Speaker 2: Listen to My Favorite Murder on the iHeartRadio app, Apple
Speaker 2: Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker 1: And now you can watch My Favorite Murder on Netflix.
Speaker 2: And when you're there, hit the double thumbs up and
Speaker 2: the remind Me buttons. That's the best way you can
Speaker 2: support our show.
Speaker 1: Goodbye.