Morbid - Listener Tales 40 New Orleans Edition!

Episode Date: May 25, 2022

Listener Tales 40!!!!! It’s so crazy to think that we’re on episode 40 of these and still you guys make us laugh our booties off! We decided to make this installment of listener tales New Orleans themed because, I’m not sure if you know this, but Alaina wrote a book themed there!!!! This installment features a super spooky ghost tour, a weird theme of hitchhiking and a pair of disappearing fan blades. Hold onto your butts! You guys have humbled Alaina beyond belief with your response to the presale of her book The Butcher and the Wren. Now, as a thank you, submit your pre-order receipt for a chance to win a personalized video from Alaina discussing some secret details of the behind the scene of creating the story! Submit your receipt here!   AND if you haven't pre-ordered and want to get in on the action! You can do so here!   As always, thank you to our sponsors: HelloFresh: Get sixteen free meals, plus three gifts, with code morbid16 at HELLOFresh.com/morbid16 Jordan Harbinger: Listen Here!  Rothys: Discover the versatile styles you can wear absolutely anywhere and get $20 off your first purchase at rothys.com/MORBID. Babbel: Right now, save up to 60% off your subscription when you go to BABBEL.com/MORBID Pretty Litter: Head over to PrettyLitter.com right now and use code morbid to save twenty percent on your first order. Better Help: Morbid listeners get 10% off their first month at BetterHelp.com/morbid See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hey, Prime members, you can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon music. Download the app today. You're listening to a morbid network podcast. Whether you're running errands on your daily commute, or even at home, you can enjoy all your audio entertainment in one app, the Audible app. As an Audible member, you can choose one title a month to keep from the entire catalog. This includes the latest bestsellers and new releases. Plus get full access to a growing selection of included audiobooks, audible originals,

and more. If you've been wanting to form good habits, break bad ones, and improve motivation, atomic habits written and narrated by James Clear is a great lesson. It'll reshape your mindset on progress and success by helping you develop strategies to transform your habits. New members can try audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash wondery pod or text wondery pod to 500-500 to try audible for free for 30 days.

That's W-O-N-D-E-R-Y-P-O-D. Audible.com slash wondery pod or text wondery pod to 500-500 to try audible for free for 30 days. Angie has made it easier than ever to connect with skilled professionals to get all your home projects done well. Whether it's routine maintenance and emergency repair or a dream project, Angie lets you browse home on her reviews, compare quotes from multiple local pros, and even book a service instantly. So the next time you have a home project, just Angie that and start getting the most out

of your home. Download the free Angie mobile app today or visit Angie.com. That's ANGI.com. Spring has sprung and the less time you spend in the kitchen, not better. That's by some of HelloFresh's delicious restaurant quality meals come together in just 20 minutes. Get 16 free meals plus three free gifts with code morbid16 at helifresh.com slash morbid16. Hey weirdos, I'm Ash and I'm Al gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it.

I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it. I'm like, whoa. I was going, like usually you would go like, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah We love a theme. And this week we have themed everything it seems. Nolins. We have themed it New Orleans. And there's a reason for that. There's a reason for the season.

A reason? A reason for Nola, always. Well, our reason is many reasons for Nola, but our reason is there's something exciting happening with the butcher and the rent, which takes place in New Orleans and in Louisiana and all that fun stuff. I've heard of that book.

So guys, the first thing I need to say is, sorry, I was talking to the side of the microphone because I had to cough. Right, talk. And it's the top. It's pollen season. So I wanted to say, you guys, thank you so much for pre-ordering my book.

It's been amazing. It's been blowing my mind left and right. You guys continue to amaze me. And we wanted to do something else cool for you guys. And also maybe like if you haven't pre-ordered and you were thinking of pre-ordering and you were just like, waitin' a little while, are you waiting for him to come up?

I don't know. Maybe. Maybe pre-order now, because if you have pre-ordered, or if you do pre-order now, you can go to tinyurl.com slash. Hold on, I'm coming for you. Tinyurl.com slash T-B-A-T-W video. And I'll put it in the little show notes. I'll say it again, don't worry. Go there, upload your pre-order receipt, and a select number of these are going to be chosen at random to be winners of a video, a personalized video for me. And it's going to be me telling you some little small things about the writing process of this book, like the inspiration. I can tell you just like a few behind the scenes

details that no one else is going to get. Exciting! And it's going to be really fun. I can tell you just like a few behind the scenes details that no one else is gonna get. Exciting! And it's gonna be really fun. I can't wait to tell you. So guys, upload your receipts. If you have pre-ordered already, this is a big thank you because you guys have been so fucking awesome.

And if you thought that you were gonna like censor yourself and I was like, we don't do that here. I almost did. I don't know if I've just like been around the kids a lot. So I'm like, you stood censoring. But whoops, fucking awesome is what I here. I almost did. I don't know if I've just been around the kids a lot, so I'm like, you stood censoring, but whoops, fucking awesome is what I mean. There you go. And again, if you have pre-ordered

or if you want to pre-order now, take that receipt that you get from your pre-order, go to tinyurl.com slash T-B-A-T-W-V-O. Upload your receipt, your information, you will be entered into the drawing to be a select number of people that are gonna get that personalized video that I'm really excited to do for you.

And if you haven't pre-ordered yet, and this is like appealing to you, and you're like, hell yeah, this is my time, I'm ready. Like put me in coach, I'm ready to play. It's your moment. You can go to tinyurl.com slash the butcher and the ren and you can buy from any number of places. You can get it on, you know, Amazon, your local bookshop, Target, Barnes and Noble, all kinds of places. So

if you feel like now's your time and you want to be put into play, that's where you go. And then you can upload your seat. And it's all really exciting. It's coming up. Like it's, it's coming. It's coming up. Like we're gonna be able to hold this thing. I'm gonna hold this thing in my hands in a few months. Like the hard cover, it. I'm gonna smell it.

I can't wait to smell it. And I'm gonna go to all the tarjays and bookstores near us. And I'm gonna put it in the front. All the tarjays. All the tarjays. Allstores near us and I'm gonna put it in the front. All the tarjays. All the tarjays. All of them. I'm very excited guys and I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate what you've done

and how you jumped right on it and got me those pre-orders and I can't wait for you to read it. I really, really, really think that you're all gonna love it because I really had you in mind writing it. So I just like, I can't wait for you to read it. I don't just feel like they're gonna love it because I really had you in mind writing it so I just like I can't wait I Don't just feel like they're gonna like it. I know I hope so people love everything you put out there. Oh, they do that's so nice. I love them

Sorry, I have like I'm coming off of the bronchitis And I just and I went straight into pollen season so my my lungs are just like, wow, okay, thanks. But yeah, you have the black lung. I do. I have the black lung. I feel like Zulimder when he's like but yeah, you guys rock. I just want to let you know. This is a big thank you for you. Hopefully we'll do a little some more things leading up to that. But go get the pre-order if you have it and if you can and if you already have get to tinyurl.com slash tvatw video and upload that receipt. So it's an acronym. That's the reason why we did a whole new Orleans theme because why not? That's fun. And what we decided to do today was do an entire listener tales episode that is all your New Orleans tales. New Orleans.

And Man O'Man, you gave us some good ones. I'm particularly excited for the first one that you're gonna read today. Is it just the title of that really? It's simply the title. Because I haven't read anything else other than the title. So the title of this one is the listener tale of three beautiful big booty-licious bottom girls and the honorary white girl that could have kidnapped us in New Orleans.

Amazing. I'm ready. Let's go. I am ready. All right. Hello, weirdos. I am not going to be all gushy about my love for you guys. I'll keep it simple.

I love you guys. I'm sorry if my grammar sucks. Feel free to change my wording to make me sound smarter LOL. I love you already. I'm obsessed. My name is Caitlin and yes you can use my name, thank you Caitlin. But the sake of the story will call my two friends Athena and Serena. Ooh, you picked great names.

I feel like I should give the personalities of my two friends. Athena is a quirky person who is very free spirited, adventurous, extrovert who I've known since middle school. Literally she is my favorite person to be around, especially since I'm an introvert who gets tired of people and she understands my limit. Sounds like I'll you. Yeah. The other, Serena is a nurse who is very smart, level-headed person with a calm spirit. She also understands me being an introvert and takes out the talkative person. I and brings out the talkative person I can become when I'm around people that I can be completely open with. We all need a friend like that totally. All of us

work together during high school at a mom-and-pop ice cream shop in a college town in northern Utah. In March of this year, we all decided to go to New Orleans. Let's go. Our original plan was to go to Greece, same thing. I can't know, but we all needed to go somewhere else. You know, we all felt we needed to go somewhere else. So we changed our plans and low and behold, Russia attacked Ukraine.

PSA for the weirdos, make sure to listen to your gut. Wow, so you were supposed to be going over there at that time. That's wild. Anyways, we were having a wonderful time, the nine days we were there. I freaking loved New Orleans. I thought it was just a place people got drunk and went topless for a couple of wild days, but they had so much to do, and that is coming from three girls who don't drink or do drugs. It's, I love she's like, there's more to do than that guy.

Each day we had one fun thing we did. Then we just explored the city going to all the bakeries and stores that they have there. That's so nice. I was just going to say I'm like so jealous of this right now. I'm living through you. I want to go somewhere. I want to go to New Orleans. I do too. Then we would spend the rest of the night talking into the early morning mornings of the next day. It was very stress relieving. I can feel that like totally just sitting up after a nice day explore in the spooky city of New Orleans. Yeah into the early morning, mornings of the next day, it was very stress relieving. I can feel that. Like totally. Just sitting up after a nice day explore in the spooky city of New Orleans. Yeah, with your best gal pals.

Man. So after the week of Benye filled Sugar Rush High, we had each day the night, the day before we were leaving, we wanted to go zip lining in the buy-u. Ooh, that sounds like so much fun, but it won't after you're in the Linus book. It definitely won't after you read the book. No. We went to a little place about 20-ish minute, about a 20 minute drive. There we go.

It's just hard. Outside of New Orleans, we ubered out there and planned on doing the same thing to get back. We'll come to the end of our zipline experience where we got to zipline over a crocodile. We also got to feed the crocodile marshmallows. Hmm, who knew this swimming carnivorous chomp chomp dyno death machines would like something so innocent like marshmallows. Amazing.

Chomp chomp dyno death machines. That's exactly what they are. Anyways, we did not have service, so we did the only thing we knew to do. And that was walked to the closest town that was about three miles away to try and get some service or to try to get some service to get an Uber or taxi to get us back to town. We started along the long road back to the main highway and just enjoyed the beautiful nature. Of course, every time someone drove by, I would be a little nervous, but only one, but only one stopped wanting to offer us a ride. However, his truck was full of construction stuff, and I don't think we would have fit three beautiful big booty-licious bottom girls anywhere in there. I'm so big.

So real tough to do. Beautiful big booty-licious bottom girls. And I love that she's just like, we would not have fit in there, so it's not happening. So he continued driving, and we had just made it to the main highway. There were more cars driving the road than previous, but no one stopped. I, being a crime enthusiast, had thought we were all on the same understanding that we would not be taking rides from strangers. Well, my good extroverted adventure friend Athena, I guess, was not on the same page. For some reason, I thought that this girl, who backpacked through Europe for three weeks, would be more than a little wary of the don't take rides from strangers' rule.

LOL, nope. Uh-oh. than a little wary, would be a little more wary of the don't take rides from strangers rule. LOL. Nope. Uh oh. This episode is brought to you by the Jordan Harbinger show. Do you want a new podcast to look forward to every week? You want one that's entertaining, informative, it's packed with actionable content. I mean, of course you do. The average podcast listener fun, fun stat for you.

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That's HR, B-As in Boy, I-N as a Nancy, G-E-R, on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Some man stopped his car and asked if we wanted a ride, and Athena said yes. Now I will say I felt nervous about this situation, but nevertheless, we all got in the car.

All I could think of the time was, what did I agree to? And why am I in the car with this person? I had met literally two seconds ago. I'm sure you guys are thinking the same thing. Oh well, I am. When we were in the car, I think all the crime lessons came back all at once, and I took a side profile picture of him with my phone. Amazing. Smart. And wanted to send it to someone that I could trust. It's not like I can't trust my mom or dad. I just didn't want to freak them out. So I sent it to my brother that is just two years older than me, along with sharing my location with him for the next two hours. Smart. Well, he drove us to the nearest gas station, which was literally a three

minute drive and stopped. He went into the gas station to buy something and left his phone and car with us. At that time, Serena and I were sitting in the back and Athena was in shotgun. He then came back in the car and offered to drive us back to New Orleans if we just paid for gas. At the time, I'd started feeling more at ease knowing it was just him, a mid-50s black man in the car, and he literally left his car and keys with us so that we could take at any moment. I know I know that is not what they usually do to make you, or excuse me, sorry.

I know I know that is what they usually do to make you feel secure. Then he said, we could even drive to make us feel more comfortable. He kept telling us that he had a daughter and grandkids that he would hate to see on the side of the road and wanted to help. I feel like if we were driving, if one of us was driving, that would make me feel even more uncomfortable. Yeah, because I'd be like,

I'd be like, your hands are free. Yeah, exactly. That's the thing you can do whatever you want. And that whole, I have a daughter and a granddaughter thing has been used so many times before. So we took him up on his offer with, or we took him up on his offer and thought at the very least, if he tried anything, my friend could crash the car and we could get away

Since he wasn't wearing seat belts at all three of us were all right I love the thought process. It's a good thought press on the way back We left and enjoyed the company of this sweet older black man He told us that his wife was never going to believe that he was in the car with four white girls And we were a little confused and said, but there's only three of us. And he said, me, I am the honorary white girl. I'm literally upset. That's amazing.

So we did get to New Orleans and we dropped off, and he dropped us off a couple of blocks away from an Airbnb and we all to walked back. Once we got in, Serena and I were like, wow, that was kind of a dangerous situation we put ourselves in. And Athena turns around and says, really? Did you guys not feel safe? I felt safe the whole time.

Anyways, keep it weird, but take it away, Ash. Not so weird that you go into a stranger's car with your three friends, even if he is an honorary white girl because you know you never know what could happen. That could have been bad, but I'm really glad it was good. I love that he was like, I am the honorary white girl. Also one, what a sweet man. I know. That he like, that he was like, I am the honorary white girl. Also one, what a sweet man. I know.

That he like, that he just like, wholesomely picked up three girls. Yeah. And like, drove them to their entite, which I love that we're like, all, we're like, you know what, what a good man that he didn't murder these women. I know, but I'm like,

I'm like, it's nice that he like, did that. Like, he just picked people up and brought them to where they wanted to go. Like, that was very nice of him. I agree. And then he just seemed like such a sweet guy. Yeah. And then for him to be like, you can drive, if it makes you feel better.

I know, two minutes ago, we're like, that wouldn't make you feel better when they're fucker. And now we're like, oh my God, that was really nice of you. I was like, for long. You know what? That was really nice.

I get it though. I like that though. Now, right, my next one is called in Elena chose these, so I don't know what I'm getting into. The day the ceiling fan blades chose to dip. A listener tail. And it says, hey, weirdos. I have attached a puttafa of some of my creepy experiences. I hope you enjoy reading them more so than my family, and I enjoyed living through them. Hi, ladies. Feel free to use my name. It's

Greidel. Yep, just like the fairy tale, because what parent doesn't like to torture their kid during elementary school. Anyway, I grew up in the New Orleans area, and just about every... Oh, sorry. So I, and just about everyone else, has some kind of spooky tale about their house, their grandma's house, or because it's in the south, some sort of creepy-ass relative. I lived with my family in an ordinary suburban house until my sophomore year of high school, so 1992-ish. It was at that point that my parents had an absolutely fucking bo-really-int idea. Hey, let's save our crumbling marriage by having a hundred-year-old house that needs

extensive updating, and spend every waking moment scraping lead pain off the woodwork. Sounds great. Side note, nope, don't do it, doesn't work. You'll still get a divorce, but not until 12 years after you've started the process, and you'll make your entire fucking family miserable, and your kids won't get all their ship back from storage until they're well into their 20s, and long after their new kids on the block fixation has ended.

You're all shocked by this, I can tell. It's true, I was like, what that didn't work. That was amazing. I knew from the night we moved in that we were not the only inhabitants. Heavy footfalls up and down the staircase and in the vicinity of my bedroom door and the giggles of a young girl announced the presence of at least two additional occupants. The giggles of a young girl. Never, never, ever, even if she is in this world.

Even if she is jolly, I don't want it. I don't need it. No. The footsteps belonged to a man who eventually became even more disappointed with my propensity for being late for curfew than my uptight mother. Oh, no. You want a narc living with you, a spirit narc?

Oh, no. If I was five minutes late, my mother grounded me the next morning. But upon entering the house even a minute late, I was always greeted by a tall, frowning gentleman in a top hat with arms folded across his chest. Just, excuse me, who would place himself between me and the stairwell, regardless of which room I approached the stairs from. If he'd had feet, instead of floating, oh my god, oh, if he'd had feet instead of floating a foot off the floor, I imagine they'd have been impatiently tapping.

You, I'm sorry, you just came home and this top-headed gentleman was just disappointed in you every night and he was just this floating top-hat gentleman, like didn't even have a feast. I'd be like, I'm the disappointed one, where's your feet? Where's your feet? The hell? Where's your feet, man? You know?

Whoa. After my first encounter with him, when I screamed, woke up the rents and the neighbors, then had to talk to my mother, then I had to talk my mother out of calling the police, because I did not want to have to explain to the NOPD that the intruder was in fact dead of the spirit realm. I quickly became adept at squeezing past him without touching or passing through him.

I have no idea what would have happened if my earthly mortal body met his philmy floaty one, but the very idea of having to explain to my mother why the stairwell was covered in ectoplasm, Allah slimer, filled me with dread. Seriously, she was the scariest thing in that house. Oh man. I'm scared. Every Saturday morning after I had used a heat gun to scrape the lead, I mean paint, from how I would work my mother deemed enough, I was tasked with cleaning my bedroom. Every Saturday afternoon, I would get yelled at again for failing to organize the top of my dresser and wiping up the lotions and cosmetics that were smeared across its top.

Even though I had just done it, sorry, even though I had just done so before my mother's arrival, that sounds terrific. That sounds spiritual. Yeah, I don't love that. Is what that sounds like. One afternoon, I had had enough and begged my giggly ghostly roommate to please, please wait until after the cleanliness of the room had been checked before playing in my makeup. She was kind enough to comply from then on. What a little sweetie.

Oh, that's so creepy. Creepy, but like real sweet, adorable. Yeah, good listener. Eventually I graduated from high school, left for college, dropped, blah, blah, blah. My teeth just like stayed closed for a second. They were like, no, don't open your mouth, don't do it. Anyways, eventually I graduated from high school,

left for college, dropped out, got married, had kids, and took a whirlwind journey across the United States because of my husband's career in the Air Force. I'm a little envious of listeners who have had spooky experiences in Utah. We did not encounter anything supernatural or exceptionally creepy while there, unless you count the neighbors who harassed us about drinking beer on our porch on Sundays.

Anyway, I'm like anyway. Why can't you drink beer on your porch on a Sunday? I know, why not? I feel like that's the best day to drink beer on your porch. Is this in Utah? Maybe it's like a religious thing. Or it might even be a dry place. Yeah, that makes sense.

Okay. Anyway. Okay. Anyway. Okay. Anyway, we landed where we are now in the Florida panhandle. The second house we rented in this area was where shit really started to get fucking weird. It was in the center of two and a half acres

and surrounded by wire fencing with a gate right at the street. My husband, who grew up in rural Michigan, heard the rental agents say that we can have chickens or pigs, and suddenly fancied himself a gentleman farmer. I'm obsessed. Amazing. I love that your husband was just like,

well, I'm a farmer now. Well, yeehaw. Now that I can, I'm really sure. I don't know why I said yeehaw to that. You know, why not? I'm sure some farmers say yeehaw. Sure. Yeah.

I was going to say giddy up. Like giddy up? Yeah, you just want to be a farmer. No, you want to be a guy's what's happening. I'm in a placedy up. Giddy up? Yeah, you just want to be a farmer. No, you want to be a guy. Guys, what's happening? I'm in a place of food. What's happening? I think that top hat guy like stressed me out of the man

is going to do. You want to be a cowboy. I don't. You do. I don't. You don't understand that you do, but you do. It's me, Jesse. Remember, I'm a city girl.

Chickens come from the goddamn grocery store, tall mature trees and lots of brush, brush, grush, grue on the inside of the fence providing privacy, and inky-hellish darkness under the cover of night. My favorite kind of darkness. Same. We soon began noticing in various places, including the driveway, that pieces of glassware and pottery began working their way up through the dirt. Broken, but together, much like pieces of a puzzle. Cool.

This doesn't sound strange, no it does. Cool. But these relics of the properties passed would appear where nothing had been just hour, sometimes minutes before. Other odd occurrences began happening with frightening regularity. I spotted a piece of whitish cloth in an area of the yard where no whitish cloth had lain before, only to discover one cup of bra. It was dirty of a bra.

One cup of bra. One cup of bra. One cup of bra. I'll take a cup of bra please. One cup of a bra. It was dirty. I'd been sliced cleanly through the band between the cup. Oh, hey, Pat, that's either like extraordinarily like dirty,

or it's really scary and something really hellish happened here. Yeah, I hope it's dirty. Just for your sake. Too dirty to clean its act up. I'm just saying. Not only was I not missing a bra, but the cup was too damn small to have been mine. That's relatable.

That's never my problem. Yeah, we have different problems. One evening, my two boys and I arrived home at dusk, opened the gate, proceeded up the driveway, and saw someone standing to the side of the house. No. My older son and I cautiously approached to figure out what the fuck they were doing.

There was no they. Instead, it was a weighted bunch of helium inflated get-well balloons. No. No one in our family was sick. They were too heavy to have floated over the tree line and too far from the fence to have been tossed over the gate. Someone or something had to open or crawl over the locked gate to hand-deliver that bunch of balloons to the side of the house. And the fact that they're get well balloons, that's terrifying. That's ominous as fuck. I threw them away, but not until the next day

after my kids thought it would be funny to leave them where I'd run into them at 4.45 in the morning. Your kids are hilarious. They are funny. She goes asshole, I didn't say that. And we continued living our semi-rural life in what was fast-proving to be

a more than slightly haunted cabinet in the woods. I was the first to leave in the morning and I was the first to arrive home. Another afternoon I came home to two terrified dogs who couldn't get out of the house fast enough. Oh, once I managed to chase them back inside, I flopped onto the couch to catch my breath and looked up.

A quick text to the fan proved that the ceiling fan had been on and intact when everyone else left. It was now still, and only had two blades. What? The rational side of my brain assumed that the fan was off balance and the screws holding the blades were to the body must have slowly loosened as the fan rotated at high speed, thus allowing them to fly off. A quick examination of the fan showed otherwise.

The metal pieces that connected the blades to the fan were twisted and deformed as though the blades had violently ripped off and thrown. What? My irritation at the dogs quickly disappeared and together we scrambled to the car and went on the hunt for some emotional support ice cream until the rest of the family. Oh man, me too. We've never found those fan bullies.

What? Even when we packed up to move a year and a half or so later. No. What the fuck? Why did it rip the fan blades off? And where did they go? Where did they take them? The fuck?

No, the next owners are gonna find them like coming up from the ground. Oh my God, yes. Probably. Yes. It took another 18-ish months to get away from that house. When my husband retired from the Air Force, I told him that if he didn't start the process of using his VA benefits to buy a house,

then I would start the process for him. Why, yes, I was willing to commit a felony if it meant getting the hell out of that house. Can't say I blame you. No. Two years of weird occurrences, including my older son waking up on Sunday morning with a snake in his bed. Doors that randomly opened or shut on their own,

a cat that refused to enter a particular room, and other weird happenings and strange injuries, or more than I could handle. Especially since the job he took after the retirement, excuse me, especially since the job he took after the retirement, excuse me, especially since the job he took after retirement requires lots of traveling, sometimes for months at a time. Oh my god, imagine being in that house. No, no. And they wrote, there was no way in hell I was going to be the sole adult in that house for example, periods of time. Nope, I don't blame you. We found a lovely,

much newer house moved and became friends with our neighbors. One evening, she was relating the experiences of a friend who had recently moved with her two grandchildren to an parental house on a picture as do you see where I'm going with this. Oh. Two and a half acre piece of property. I wish I could say that the experiences in that house were more pleasant for this new family.

Oh no. But unfortunately, the weird occurrences and dark energy my children later stated they felt only increased for the new inhabitants. Oh no. I don't know the specifics of what they've experienced, only that repeated interventions by clergy and mediums have failed to activity.

Oh, whoa. Before I end this, I also want to let you know how I discovered the podcast and what it has become to me and my younger son. At some point during quarantine, a friend posted on Facebook about the origins of Lake Linear, and another recommended the episode. Hey, thanks.

Years ago, my husband and I lived in that area, and I crossed that bridge every day. And I crossed the bridge damn near every day. Not knowing the history, I attributed the nausea I experienced whenever I was near the lake to morning sickness associated with my first pregnancy. I now believe the dark origins and occurrences of the lake were the cause.

I told my younger son, hi Kyler. Hi Kyler. That's a cute name about those experiences, and he expressed an interest in listening. I love that. As a result, we began a tradition of having a mother-son coffee date one morning a week. Oh my God, stop, I love this.

That's so cute. It gets cuter. We get up two way too fucking early, drive for an obscene amount of time out of our small little town for over price to express out and listen to an episode. I love this. Sometimes we drive in silence, both of us,

both of us, laser focused on the case. While other times you too in your banter will spark a conversation. Oh, sometimes those conversations are inconsequential, but more often than not, they are an insight into the adult that my kid is becoming as he prepares for his high school graduation and entrance into adulthood. I want to be the mom that you are. Oh my God, this is just so cool to hear. And I feel like every episode that I put together now,

I'm gonna think of you and Tyler driving and listening. Those are the things that make us change certain things or doing certain things or just grow in some ways because it's these kind of stories make me just want to do better and better each time. It's so true. I was really fucking cool to know that. And it says,

so thank y'all for those conversations and the extra connection to my kid. I absolutely love you too and hope to see y'all in person someday. Maybe down here on the Gulf Coast, I'd absolutely drive home to Nola to see a live show. Oh, I would love to do a New Orleans show someday. You would like literally shake your pace.

I feel like it's like, that is one of those shows that I would 100 to do a New Orleans show someday. You would literally shake your pants. I feel like it's like, that is one of those shows that I would 100% do. 100% person. I would love that. And honestly, that just made my day. That made my entire day. Those kind of things when you, when we read these listener tales

and read the emails and stuff, those are the things that I'm like, it's why you do that. Because everybody's gonna see a negative comment or somebody who just hates you for no reason. We all have social media. These are the ones everybody has social media, but when you read this kind of shit

and it can get you down, and ask any creator, it knocks you out. It just, you're like, why am I doing this? If I'm not, if I'm just, everybody hates me. You know, you just feel that way, even if it's one person, you're like, everyone hates me, that's the way it is. But then you read this and it's like, oh shit, that's awesome. Like that, I just, like you and your kid get to have a moment and it's like, we get to be part of that.

And that makes me be like, oh fuck yeah. Like I just love that. That's honestly why I stay on social media because as shitty as like some other things that like pop up on there, like trust me. That everybody, I see some shitty things You know, but just connecting with people like especially on Instagram like I love connecting with our listeners It makes you feel so much better and you're like that is why I do what I keep says going it really does

So like please guys know even if like we can't possibly respond to every single thing No, we love to I try but respond to every single thing because we love to trust me. But we see so much and we read so much and like I can't express this enough to you how much it means to us and how much it like actively like fuels us to keep going and keep getting better. So I just want you guys to know like you make a huge difference even just by saying a nice thing. Like you really do like I just want you to know that when you take a huge difference, even just by saying a nice thing. Like, you really do, I just want you to know

that when you take the time to do that, it is so much. So incredibly appreciated in that, it's the only way that we keep getting better. So we keep being like, no, you know what? Zoe said this the other day and like, fuck yeah, I gotta do this. We gotta keep going for Kyler and Caitlyn.

We gotta keep going for Kyler and Caitlyn. Oh, we know, it was a good night. And I read the wrong name, It was fucking Gretel. How do I forget that? I forgot that was a good star and idiot. Fairy tales. We gotta keep going for Gretel and Kyler because they need to have their fucking coffee dates.

Like hell, yeah. That's just the most beautiful thing. You guys rule. You do. And Gretel, that was sick. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Have you ever seen somebody wearing a super duper cute colorful pair of flats and just thought to yourself, DANG those are cute!

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First of all, I can still remember when I got my first pair of Rothes. I was in my apartment, I opened the box and I said of all, I can still remember when I got my first pair of rothies. I was in my apartment, I opened the box and I said, oh, I should try these on so that I can like break them in before I wear them because if you wear flats, you know that with every other pair of flats, that's the case. I put these on my feet and I said, I could wear these out today. I could go run a mile in these. They are absolutely the most comfortable shoes that I have ever put on my feet and among the cutest. I looked in the mirror, I was moving my foot around left to right, rotating it, I was saying wow these look cute from every angle and get this. So I wore them out

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Your new favorite shoes are waiting. Discover the versatile styles that you can wear absolutely anywhere and get $20 off your first purchase at Rothy's.com slash morbid. That's R-O-T-H-Y-S.com slash morbid for $20 off your first order. Alright, my next one is haunted hospitals hidden mass grave, a New Orleans original. Yikes. And it says, hey ladies, I will freak the heck out if you read this off air. And I will be deceased if you read it on the podcast.

Whatever happens, thank you for being a morbidly bright spot in my life. All right, peace. Hey, weirdos. Ash, Elena, y'all are my quarantine queens. A fellow weirdo and now good friend of mine, shout out to Melania. Recommended you guys to me right at the beginning of the lockdown back in March. And I can't listen to literally anything else while cooking, cleaning, driving, showering, exercising, etc.

YouTube fabulous females are constantly in my ear. I procrastinated right in my listening to listener tale for so long because I want to catch up on all the episodes first, but I just can't wait anymore. Also, if you feel free to use my name. We'll do. Let me make sure, hold on, I'm gonna say what your name is. Hannah, you're the best. I didn't want to like not use your name. As I write this, I'm on day three of no power courtesy of Hurricane Zeta. Oh, make a beta Zeta. This is a CC down in New Orleans. I'm taking it as a sign that I'm supposed to write this now because I have no idea how my laptop is still charged. It's fate. I agree. Me too.

Our windows are wide open too because you know, it's freaking Louisiana and it's s-well, it's health or sweltering inside if you don't open windows while the power is out. Fresh air is for dead people but so is dying of heat exhaustion so I have to pick the lesser of two evils I get that will let it slide yeah and I slept on the couch. I said that too soon. So many awful situations I've walked into here. One more rabble before the tale. Please, I beg of you, come to New Orleans when all this COVID stuff is over with. I will buy out your shows. The spooky capital of Louisiana will not disappoint. I promise. You know what? I fully believe that. And also, I don't know if it helps because at this point when you wrote this, it hadn't come out, but I wrote a book that's based in New Orleans, Louisiana, so I love you.

You did? I did. Is it called The Butcher in the Renn? Is it available at tinyurl.com slash The Butcher in the Renn? It sure is. Wild. Go get your copy now. Also, the Zack and Adi episode was freaky crazy to hear because of how close to home it

hits. I have friends that worked with them on Bourbon Street and were so shocked when this happened. I got chill bumps when you all did that one. I got chill bumps when y'all did that one. Oh, I like chill bumps. Chill bumps. Instead of the goose bumps. I do too. I'm not a goose.

No, and I don't understand why they're goose bumps. Can't drive on the goose. They're chill bumps. Oh, can somebody tell us why they're goose bumps? I wonder if there's a reason for that. I'm sure there is. Let me know. Any who lets dive in, sing it, Ash.

I'm about to dive in. Boom. My listener told just so happens to be based in this spooopy city I call home. Growing up visiting my family here, we went on every single haunted ghost door the city had to offer. I am so jealous. Same. We did all the cemetery tours, met the current voodoo queen, had our palms read and tarot cards

told. Is that one one does with tarot cards? Tells them? I don't know the right verb, sorry. I think it's reads them. I think it's written. There you go. I I was gonna be like, I think it's told. And you're like, no, it's not. I was like, it's not. And we heard every single legend so many times that I am now the tour guide for my friends that visit since I moved down here three years ago. I was obsessed with the AHS cousin's cover season. Me too. Because of its historical accuracy to the base storylines.

I also have had a photo session in front of the house they filmed it in, color me a freak. You know what? You're my freak and I love you. They're our freak. I want to have some too. Old abandoned buildings aren't taken down here. They simply are fenced off and haunt the space they sit in. How beautiful. That... Why would you tear down the haunted house? I love that so much. They literally just sit there until a mysterious fire destroys it or the crime rate at that location becomes overwhelming.

Charity hospital, school, charity hospital, schools destroyed by Katrina, hard rock hotel, the old naval base, they are all decaying, dilapidated, semi falling down, covered in graffiti and are frequent drop in spots for discarded murder victims. Woof. These places are definitely haunted by their histories, if not by actual ghosts.

Nothing surprises me here anymore. Nothing. That is until my last night playing Taurus Tierra roughly two years ago. I was teaching at an inner city school and had had a particularly draining day of disrespect from students and administration scapegoating. I, a nine year old, responded with, fuck you bitch, when I asked him to set down his headphones. Wow. My goodness. I was about ready to get fired and be totally okay with it.

It was a Friday night. My teacher friends were feeling the same. I love commiserating. Also, my favorite. I love teachers, also. Like, let me tell you. Yeah, you hear, Rose. We decided to do something to celebrate the Halloween season and de-stress from

the work week. We found a great group on, named drop for a hopeful sponsor, loving so much, for cheap tickets to a citywide cemetery tour that encouraged us to be YLB. We didn't think twice and headed for downtown to meet up with the tour guide for 8 p.m. Now remember, I had been on all of these tours before, so I thought I wasn't getting into anything I wasn't ready for. That was problem number one. Okay now for some background information on me for the rest of the story. I'm skeptical of paranormal hunters simply because they make a lot of money scaring people with their fancy equipment.

And I've seen it happen on multiple occasions down here. I don't trust humans. I think that's the main point. Humans are sketchy as fuck. I agree. The teacher friends I was with definitely did not believe the same as me in regards, in any regards though. One thought this was a total crock and went along for the booze, I mean, same. And the other was so scared off her rocker,

she had to cling to one of us the entire time. We were a weird trio of witches, let me tell ya. The rest of the people in the store were carons for mostly out of town. The tour guide was cheesy and looked like a SWAT team member ready to infiltrate a hostage situation with the amount of paranormal gear he had strapped to his body. Oh, man. He looked like the fly that sat upon Pins's hair a few weeks ago.

Wow. What a sight of the times. Yeah. Wow. He might have been the creepiest part of the event had what happened at our last stop not occurred. Each participant had been given a spirit box or whatever it's called. It was a little black box that made white noise sounding frequencies and translated energy from the spirits into the vicinity, in the vicinity into English. I was intrigued. I'd never been given one of these on a tour and was hoping to get at least a little fun out of it. We climbed on a creepily decorated bus and hit about four different cemeteries.

Each time we'd pull up to a lot, unload off the bus, listen to the haunting histories of each place, and watch for the words the spirits gave us. I tell the familiar stories in my head, and watch the carons take pictures, and the dark, opening to catch an orb on their phone. I was enjoying seeing everyone freak out over the faint spookiness of everything, and sipped from my wine bottle. Yes, bottle. You don't have to hide your sin and nola. With my pinky up. I kept my eye on a little, on my little spirit box, but quickly grew tired of it as the words dog dark and girl popped up. Y'all climbing back into the bus. I was happy we were almost at the fifth and final stop. Abandoned charity hospitals mass grave. Charity hospital was abandoned three weeks after Hurricane Katrina hit back in 2005.

It is now an ominous building with weird hauntings of its own that could fill up an entire episode for you Charity Hospital was abandoned three weeks after Hurricane Katrina hit back in 2005. It is now in an ominous building with weird hauntings of its own that could fill up an entire episode for you guys. No, did. I suggest looking more into it. That's actually on one of my lists because I want to do a bunch of Norland's episodes and that was on there. Charity's doors first opened in 1736 and therefore has seen its fair share of deaths.

When the tuberculosis break out, hit New Orleans hard way back when, there were too many cases and not enough plots to bury the dead. So charity had a mass grave dug near where the highway sits today. Thousands of people are buried on top of each other and their sadness was buried with them. Families did not get closure and loved ones were lost forever without a grave marker to visit. That's so sad. That really is. I had not heard about this place before.

This had me on edge of my bus seat with intrigue. Our bus pulled up at the gate of the Hurricane Katrina Memorial and I was confused. This wasn't where I thought we were going because charity hospital was about two miles away. And surrounding the Katrina Memorial, there were only trees. Where was the mass grave? Hold onto your butts, ladies. Apparently the Katrina Memorial was placed in front of the mass grave, which was not marked. Our tour guide led us through the tall black gates towards the memorial.

I'd been here before and was already trying to figure out what exactly we were going to find at this burial site. The guide walked behind the memorial towards the forest and moved some branches aside to reveal a break in the dense trees. The Katrina memorial was covering the portal to Charity's grave. What?

That's what's there. We had to push our way through unkempt trees in an untrodden path. Everyone was silent and holding their breath, which we could now see as the temperature ominously dropped and the moon was our only source of light. Both my friends were now clinging to each, either of my arms as we flailed through the cobwebs that hung delicately in the trees. Oh, beautiful. No, I know. No one was taking pictures. No one was looking at their ghost boxes. Strangers were grasping each other's shoulders. The guide was eerily serene. We couldn't hear the traffic from the busy highway right next to us anymore.

The atmosphere was changing and there was no denying that. The hair on my neck started to stand up. This literally was a portal. Then there came to view in the Dim Moon light a single wooden cross centered in- Oh! In an all of a sudden vast empty piece of land. Just one wooden cross. Huh.

Yeah. There was a huge circular area of just grass, short grass, like it had been cut, even though this mass grave was no longer tended to. The wooden cross cast a long shadow across us from the moon shining behind it. The guide turned around to face us and said, explore. Ooh, that's freaky. Some of the braver tourists started moving forward, some

backed up to the tree line and didn't venture out at all. My two friends and I huddled together and slowly moved forward. I was shaking, and I don't know if it was because of the sudden cold or the sadness that it overwhelmed me. Please both. This was not a happy place. This was a place of death. Our guide didn't have to tell us a story of its history because the atmosphere said it all. I stood still, taking in the melancholy of this place on the dark. Suddenly my sadness was birthed by a pressing fear. My eyes searched for whatever threat my body was sent to, but I couldn't

find anything. My friends must have felt it too, because they both raced back to the tree line with the others that hadn't dared to venture out. I could not move. My eyes were wide, and I could just stare into the vast field in front of me. My feet were cemented into the grass and my knees were locked. My heart was pounding on in my throat and I started tearing up because I was petrified of this invisible horror around me. I started praying in my head because my lips wouldn't even move. I prayed for a protection, safety, and begged for Jesus to come get me the heck out of there. My eyes then shot down to the ghost box as it pinged a word across the screen. Christian leave. I just got full chill bumps is what I just got. My entire body just became a field of chill bumps.

You are a chill bump. Can you see them? I'm standing up on it. My heart leapt through my chest as I process those two words. That box had me laughing earlier at its generic terms at the other sites. But this was reading my thoughts and hearing my silent prayers. I tried to do as the box said, but I still could not move. My feet were set and my mouth was still sealed shut.

I kept staring at the ghostbops, hoping that no new words, I said ghostbops. You did? I felt it. I kept staring at the ghostbops, hoping that no new words would pop up. I can't remember hearing anything but the white noise. I felt alone and terrified. New words flashed on the screen. Hannah, Christian, leave.

That is my mother freaking name, not today, Satan. Oh my God, can you imagine looking down and seeing that they know your fucking name? No. And it's not like you're like thinking like, my name is Hannah, like, how did it know? It just knows. I don't know if it was this round of adrenaline

finally working or that communicative Damon finally letting me go. I love the communicative, the communicative diamond. I love it. Finally letting me go, but I could move again. And I can't tell you how fast I bolted back, not just to the tree line, but through the bramblin bushes

to the serenity of the Katrina Memorial. I was out of breath and scratched from some of the tree branches, but the relief of the non-oppressing atmosphere was enough to calm me a bit. I sat on the ground for a while, hugging my knees to my chest, waiting for the rest of the group. Eventually I could hear the crunch of leaves as the group meandered back to the memorial. Some people seemed to have the same relief as I did, seeing the lights of the street reappear, and the traffic noise from the highway begin again.

Others seem disappointed. Maybe they didn't feel the atmosphere like I had. The creepy tour guide collected us around the memorial for a final word before loading the bus back up to the end of the tour. I found my friends Solen and Silent as the group gathered around the guide, friends, he whispered, regardless of your skepticism or foe belief in what we did tonight, you must walk backwards out of the memorial gate. You absolutely do not want any spirit attaching themselves to you, and walking backwards helps confuse them. Please, whether you think I'm being silly or not, please do this. Ooh, do it. Ladies, you best believe I backed that ass up out of the memorial faster than juvenile himself. Ah!

Ah! Ah! Ah! It gets better. Even after going through the gate, I white girl twerked myself back onto that bus. Why is this so relatable? Oh my God!

Seaf in my plastic bus seat once more with my friends I started thinking. The words of the guide had said reassured me that we fully knew the power that the charity mass grave held. We had witnessed so much there and we hadn't spoken a single word about it. I wasn't going to talk about it either, I decided, and I haven't until now. Wow, thank you. I know. That bus ride was the most silent I'd been on.

Literally no one spoke and my friends and I went home immediately after getting back downtown. I haven't been on a ghost or cemetery tour since and I don't know that I could muster up the courage to do so in all honesty. Insert sigh of release here. Relieving that had my heart, reliving that had my heart rate increasing more than that stinky nine-year-old boy cursing me out of her headphones.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed my tale of paranormal spoupiness and I apologize for its lengths and never do that. You girls keep being super freaking awesome. And again, I implore you to come to New Orleans. All right, honey, I'm coming. I'm gonna come, I wrote a book about it. I gotta get there. Let's go.

Keep it weird, Mormon, Mormon, madams, but not so weird that you challenge the seriousness of spirits and diamonds and visit a mass on Mark Grave with a ghost box after the sun goes down into Orleans. Keep it weird. Love Hannah. Hannah, Hannah, the badass. First of all, that was a phenomenal story and terrifying. Second of all, you're a great writer. You are. Like, man, I love you guys are, you guys always amaze me because you really paint me pictures that I'm like, who I'm like just feeling things.

We're just. You're making me feel all the feel. You're making me feel things. Exactly. I feel like you have to pause because there's a few that I could choose here in this folder. Oh guys, I've like always wanted to go to Petty. Petty, that's why I've been learning to speak for wrench, because for all your summer travels, whether you're going abroad or staying domestic and wanting to immerse yourself

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Pretty litter dot com code morbid. Oh, I choose you. Oh, listen to the title entitled. While hitchhiking in rural Louisiana got rides from a man named after a power tool and some very friendly cocaine dealers. How could we not choose that? It just spoke to me. Yeah. Alright, so Zalena and Ash, I love the Listener Tales episodes, so I thought I would write in with my favorite story about how even when hitchhiking works out, it can still be a little harrowing.

That seems to be the theme of our episode today besides New Orleans. It's like hitchhiking in New Orleans can work out, but still be a little scary. There you go. Here it goes. First, some setup. In the summer of 2008, I got an internship as age... I was... You almost did that soft G.

I did, and I almost was was gonna say as a giant. I love it. A giant writer. Which would have been funny, because it's Grant writer, but maybe you were a giant writer too. Maybe. So I got an internship as a grant writer

for a rebuilding nonprofit in St. Bernard, Parish, Louisiana, which is right next door to New Orleans. Good for you. This was only a few years post-Katrina, so there was still a lot of need and things were still kind of a mess. I also had zero experience living in a rural area, so much so, that I was a junior in college

and still had never bothered to get a driver's license. Only just got it last year. Fatherhood, it changed your face. Rocking rats on being a phaja. The only place I could afford to rent was a former middle school that had been converted into a bunkbed style volunteering housing named Camp Hope. That was about 10 miles from the office where I worked. I figured no problem, I'll bike. Only there was a problem. Shipping my reliable hybrid bike would have been super expensive, more expensive it turns out, than just buying a new bike once I got down there.

And I was in luck in Shalame. Shalame. Shalame. You were about to say Shalame. I don't really know why. Shalame. Shalame. Shalame.

That's exactly where I was. I love that. You were in Timothy Shalame. Shalame. Shalame. Shalame. Shalame. Shalame.

Shalame. Ten miles from Camp Hope. There was a business called Shalmet, Bicycle, and lawnmower. So I was golden. You were. I hear you saying I was saying this in my brain. What about rainy days? What then? Well, I also found out that the parish had some public transportation. St. Bernard, Urban Rapid Transit, spurt, gross, gross, and I didn't say that they did, but it is gross. There was a website with roots and a timetable and everything. On rainy days, I would just get up early and take the bus. Easy peasy. As it turned out,

St. Bernard, urban rapid transit was a name that contained no less than three lives. Urban, rapid, and transit. Oh no. After waiting on an abandoned overgrown street corner in the pouring rain for 45 minutes one morning, I finally called the number on the website and was told the timetables were aspercial. I love that they're like, we aspire to get there on time, but it doesn't always happen.

I love that they're literally like, see, here at Spurt, we dream big. And we put all we get there on time, but it doesn't always happen. I love it. They're literally like, see, here it's spurt, we dream big. And we put it all we dream. And we get there on time, but like, that's just aspiring. That's great. They keep dreaming. They also said that the service basically amounted to a van for old people that needed to be scheduled a week in advance.

Amazing. Service also ended at 3.30 pm. So even if I was somehow able to take the bus to work, I would be shit out of luck getting home. But back to hitchhiking. Wow. Wow, that really does sound like a lot. That's a lot.

I understand now why you had to hitchhike. Within one day of arriving in Louisiana, my bike plans began to fall apart. After taking a cab to Camp Hope and unpacking, I bummed a ride from some other volunteers going back into New Orleans who dropped me off at Shalame, at Timothy Shalame, his bicycle and lawnmower store, where my plan was to buy a bike and then ride back to Camp Hope. No, I didn't call ahead.

Why wouldn't a place named Shalame bicycle and lawnmower have anything less than bikes aplenty? But that's what I'm saying. As it turns out, Shalame bicycle singular. I love that you're just going with the helmet. It's just the way what it is. Shalam A bicycle singular and lawnmower was well-named.

They only had one assemble bike. Oh my god, stop. And it had already been sold. Stop it. Also, I need to know did they only have one lawnmower? That's amazing. Like, wow. This put me in a bit of a spot.

Yeah. 10 miles and 90 degree heat isn't much of a drive and it's doable on a bike, but it is a pretty long walk. Indeed. I wasn't luck, however. After explaining to the owner that I was down there to volunteer, they were so grateful that they sold me the already assembled bike.

They'd assembled a new one for another customer. And they threw in a helmet for free. This would become a common feature of my misadventures. Lots of really amazing people who were so grateful for, and kind to anyone who was volunteering. Oh no, I went. That's really great. I love community. I rode the bike back to Camp Hope. My plans were still on track more or less. This is where I need to describe the bike. It was a bright red beach cruiser, the kind with swooping handlebars, no gears, and where you needed to pedal backwards to break. Needless to say, it wasn't really

built for daily 20 mile round trip commute, but it was literally my only option, so it was a fucking sea biscuit as far as I was concerned. The helmet I'd been given was also one of those very basic Styrofoam ones. Oh man. The kind that very little kids wear only scaled up for an adult. To put it bluntly, I looked ridiculous. Like a fat, dumpy mushroom that I've gained sentience and stolen Mrs. Gulches by such holy shit. The picture you painted there.

And may I just, did it did it did it did it did it did it did it. In the city, I may not have married in a single glance, but on rural highways were pickup trucks were blowing past me at 45 miles an hour. Let's just say I got more than a few things thrown at me. Oh, both insults and objects during the couple of months that I lived there.

Poor thing, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Throw things at people. No, that's littering and assault. Two very hefty charges there. That's fair. For about a week, my plan more or less worked. I would get up, shower, hop on my bike, white knuckle it for about an hour in the 90 degree heat,

while all manner of trucks and semis blew past me, spend the day researching funding sources, and then repeat in the evening, and get back to Camp Hope and time for dinner Which was included in my weekly fee. Well, look at that. It was during one of these return trips that I encountered my first real setback About halfway through my route. There was a very scary bridge that went over the violet canal It was scary because the bridge was shaped like a steep hill with no shoulder and anyone coming up could not see What was on the other side of

the bridge until they were coming down. So I crested the top, excuse me, so once I crested the top, I'd book it down the other side for fear of being rear-ended by a speeding pickup. Ooh, that's too much. That's too much for you a little heart to take. It is. Christopher, no. On this particular day, it wasn't a bridge that proved to be the problem, but the straight way at the bottom. Did I say that right? Yeah, straight away. Thank you.

After you came down, it was an unbroken mile and a half of road, with a bayou on both sides. No cross streets, no buildings, nothing. It was here that I experienced my first flat tire ever. Oh, no. That sucks. I grew up in one of those home-alone style suburbs, where sidewalks were practically made from those rubber tiles that they used to playgrounds.

So it never even occurred to me that a bike's tire could pop. As it turns out, the roads of Post-Catrina, Louisiana were more than up to the task. I would say so. Yeah. I managed not to crash, but it was clear that I wasn't going anywhere. I was still three miles from Camp Hope with the world's scariest bridge behind me, a mile of swamp in front of me, and most important dinner wasn't a half hour. Hell yeah.

After weighing my options, I decided that hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky.

Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. Hit chalky. I held up my thumb and in a matter of minutes a black pickup truck pulled over. The driver was not a tall man, but he was so built that his shoulders had more or less absorbed his neck. He was bald with a thick mustache and enormous arms that were covered with black tribal style tattoos. I used a hitchhike. Cops on in, he sat on a gravelly voice. It was at this moment I remembered some advice my grandfather had given me.

He'd once hitchhiked, hitchhiked, across the United States from San Diego to Boston after getting out of the Navy. And he told me that the hitchhikers code was never turned down a ride. Mind you, when he'd passed through Louisiana, he'd been picked up by a very nice talkative cajun guy, who when they entered a small town had without a word stop speaking Slouched as low as he could in his seat and produced a pistol from his waistband only to sit back up and tuck it back in once they'd passed through What he then casually almost cheerfully informed my grandfather who had not been told to get down Some crazy son of a bitch is trying to kill me in that town. I was screaming. Wow, that's an epic story.

Still at that moment, with dinner on the line, it felt like solid advice. This is amazing. I put my bike in the flatbed and hopped in the cab. Immediately things got very sweet and pretty weird. It became very clear that my buff show for, my buff show for, had a lot on his mind. I was looking for someone to talk to.

Evidently, he was pretty sure his girlfriend was cheating on him. Oh, poor guy. But his mother was very ill, and his possibly unfaithful girlfriend had been caring for her, so he wasn't sure if he should break up with her. I agreed, that was a difficult situation. At 22, I naturally had a deep well of experience to drop from. He asked me what I was doing, and I gave him my usual spiel about being down there to volunteer. Without saying a word, he then pulled into a gas station and got out of the truck.

He didn't go to the pump, but instead walked to the convenience store. I awkwardly sat there for a few minutes before he returned, and he handed me a popsicle. Stop it. We really appreciate you guys coming down here to help us. Stop it. We chatted for a few more minutes before we pulled up to Camp Hope, where I hopped out and grabbed my bike. Before he left, I walked to the driver's side door

and held out my hand saying, Thank you so much. By the way, my name is Chris. He smiled, reached through the window, and just gripped my hand as tightly as he could. Just call me Chainsaw. Just call me Chainsaw. Thank you, Chainsaw.

I said without batting an eye because that's how I was raised. That is how you were raised, Chris. I love it. That is, he's just like, you do not react to that. No. Nice to meet you, Chainsaw. Call me Chainsaw.

Okay. Amazing. From that day on, blowing out a tire became at least a twice, excuse me. Yeah, from that day on, blowing out a tire became at least a twice-weekly event. So much that I learned how to patch them myself and always carry to patch kit and a pump on my commutes.

Still, even without those precautions, I had to hitchhike a few more times. Besides chain saw, the most memorable ride I got was for a trek filled with very friendly cocaine dealers. Oh! How did I know they were cocaine dealers? I was gonna ask. A few things tipped me off. One, they told me they were cocaine dealers. Oh, how did I know they were cocaine dealers? I was gonna ask a few things tipped me off. One, they told me they were cocaine dealers. Two, when

they found out I was a volunteer, they insisted I have some cocaine on the house because they just really appreciated me being down there. It was so nice. Not every cocaine dealer is gonna just add do some fucking stuff. That was so big. And three, it became pretty clear from their hyper. I'm screaming. It was so big. It became pretty clear from their hyperactive demeanor and the fact that they were easily doing 80 while I sat unrestrained in the truck's flathead

that they had recently gotten high on their own supply. Their own supplies, so to speak. Wow. Incidentally, when I politely turned down their very generous offer of cocaine, they also pulled over at a gas station and bought me a sprite and a red bull, which I guess, in their minds, was a close equivalent. Honestly, in my mind, too, I assume.

Yeah. And that is the story of how I hitch-tiked and rural Louisiana lived to tell the tale, met a really nice guy named Chainsaw and some very friendly cocaine dealings. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the story. Chris, I enjoyed this story from the depths of my soul. I enjoyed this story more than I enjoy most things. Wow. I am screaming. I'm Louisiana y'all. Everything. I feel like I'm amazing. Can we do one more? Yeah, we can do one more. Let's do one more. One more. One more.

All right, I'm gonna go with Voodoo or Food Allergy. Who the fuck knows? Maybe it was both. Not I. Hey beautiful ladies of the weird. My name is Amy. A. Me.

Oh, thank you for that. I love our pronunciation guys. And I have this weird story from the first time I visited the Voodoo capital of the United States You know mother effing nola new Orleans for those not familiar with the lingo You've got to be familiar if you're here. You got to in June of 2015 I'd move to the devil's butt crack of Memphis, Tennessee to be with my fiance He was there for work and I had to finish my master and special education back in Colorado

But I graduated and can move. Yay also what a great human you are. Yeah, so this is not a comment about Memphis being a butt crack of a place, but rather a comment of how out of this world fucking hot it is. This girl's dainty Colorado skin can't handle the humidity or the heat, so I hope you understand the implications of moving to the south in the summer. I couldn't imagine.

Both of us would very much not imagine. Where New England is? We understand. We're pale, New Englanders at that. Well, after a month in July, for those of you not paying attention to the timeline, I'm trying to adjust to this butt crack heat. A neighbor and his girlfriend talk us into spending a week in NOLA with them. This seemed like a great idea. I was a few drinks down the old, could old gut it, the good old gullet, and chest deep in the complex pool. So the heat wasn't really something I was considering. The heat, however, would come to be the reason I'm uncertain whether or not Buddha is real,

or if I have a food allergy. Maybe you can help me decide. Let's do it. Okay, so after a nighttime drive, we're totally well. Okay, so after a nighttime drive from Memphis, to Nola, we checked into the hotel room that we were sharing with friends, you know, because even as full-on grown-ass adults, we found it more important to save money

than have our own privacy, another mistake. Yeah. Anyway, we wake up early and head to the French quarter to stuff our hungry faces with those powdered sugar-covered balls of fried heaven, aka, binyeis. Quick note, I spent about 10 minutes trying to spell that correctly. I get you. Well, it was 10 a.m., and I was already sweating minutes trying to spell that correctly. I get you.

Well, it was 10 a.m. and I was already sweating more than I care to admit. Let's just say I sweat like a man. Always have always will and it's my biggest regret. Haha, but I digress. You can get Botox in your armpits. There you go. Ash is life tips. Yeah.

So I was sweating a lot and I should have known that when I was going to, when I was going too long for any sort of purpre from this death air as we walked around so we ended up walking in and out of stores where I would go find the vent of the AC and stand under it while I tried to tame the sweat pouring off my head. Did I mention I sweat like a man? But it also meant we would find ourselves in a few different bars and restaurants trying different foods and sucking down a beer and water to cool off.

I get it, beer is kind of counterproductive, but whatever, I do what I want. I love that. I do what I want to go. Yeah, amazing. So about halfway through the day, I find myself desperately needing cool air and then I see it, a voodoo store,

one of the main ones near the actual French Quarter. So being a fellow weirdo and lover of AHS's Covent, Hell yeah, another mention. Hell yeah. I decided to make everyone stop in and check out the scene. I tried to be open-minded about things, a fellow weirdo in lover of AHS's Coven, Hell yeah, another mention. Hell yeah. I decided to make everyone stop in and check out the scene. I tried to be open-minded about things, so I was curious to see how this place made me feel.

When I walked in, I was thoroughly impressed with the AC situation. I'd given it a solid B+. Then I was mesmerized by what I saw. It was dark, but not scary dark, and it was full of heads. Which typically would make me feel weird, but then this scenario I was intrigued. I was walking around the male part of the couple we were with goes, hey, Aime, is this you? And your best, oh, excuse me,

I didn't realize that was with a Southern draw. You had to say, hey, Aime, is this you? If we just offended so many people, but we love you so much. We do. In your best deep-sotherned, drall-sothern accent, he's from Tennessee. And start stabbing a voodoo doll in the stomach with the supplied pin six times. Why the fuck would he do that?

We both giggle and continue looking around the store. That's not silly. After about 30 minutes and dozens of, oh my god, look at this statement. I cooled down enough to move on. I've, I've happily stayed there for longer, but we needed to make our way back to the hotel to get ready for our night on Bourbon Street. Woo party. Oh, I've seen those TikToks, so we leave and make our way down to where we parked, and halfway there I decided I wanted a beer. Really, I just wanted to cool down. So we stopped by a restaurant with a huge sign advertising their raw oyster plate. Oh, a platter?

Fuck yeah. Who the fuck knows? My fiancee excitedly states, oh my god, we get to have some fresh oysters while we're down here. So we order 12. Yes, 12 slimy, fresh oysters to consume. Well we enjoy our beer and water, another fucking mistake. That's not a mistake.

I'm getting to try new foods and oysters didn't seem so bad to me because I love sushi. So what the hell? Why not? My fiance and I cheers to eating oysters. Our friends were smart and decided against it. And we slurped them down one at a time until all 12 were gone. Okay, they weren't horrible, but I'm not going to say swallowing down a large, lugee-texture thing as an easy task. I've never been able to handle what they look like. Wasters are among my favorite things in the world, and Drew loves oysters too. I like made him love oysters. And we were gonna have oysters at the wedding, but we can't because my uncle has a seafood allergy. And it's like fatal. Yeah, like a fatal allergy.

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an under 48 hours. Warp with listeners get 10% off their first month at BetterHelp.com slash morbid. That's better-h-e-l-p-dot-com slash morbid. Well, luckily I'm down with some cocktail sauce and onions, so I was able to do my part and eat six of them. We guzzled down our beers and life was good. I was ready to brave the devil's ball sack. For some reason I imagine ball sacks to be hotter than butt cracks and no less hotter than

Memphis, but I will never really know because I have a vagina. Your treat of thought is my favorite thing ever. It's also like weirdly relatable. It is. It's just thought is my favorite thing ever. It's also like weirdly relatable, I feel like that's how my brain works. Just working through it as we go. And as we get to the car, something doesn't feel right. I passed it off that I drank my beer too fast and I just needed to digest.

But boy was I'm a stake in. Oh no. We stop off at the gas station to grab some hydration to have before we head out for the night. And as we were checking out, something happens. I get that, oh my God, I'm going to ship my pants feeling. I managed to get myself to the hotel room and bust open the door just in time to ship my brains out. Remember how we wanted to save money and share a room? Well, this is when I realized we made that mistake. I washed my hands, splashed water on my face,

and head out of the room to diggle with everyone about the noises that were coming from the bathroom while I was in there. Oh, I bet it probably didn't even have a fan. You know, when you have to go in the bathroom and like have a quiet moment and you're like, oh, a fan. Oh, a fan that probably didn't have a fan. So disappointing when the fan's not there. Yeah. I had decided halfway through the situation that I needed no pride.

Our male friend decided he would go take his shower and then go fill up his truck with gas while the rest of us got ready. Well, as he was showering, I got the, oh no, I'm going to spew everywhere feeling. And I had to bust in the bathroom to get to the toilet before my stomach contents ended up on the floor. Hotel rooms aren't overly convenient for someone who needs to barf just saying. No, they're really not. I apologize and head back to the bed and the realization sings in that, I'm a miss out

on Bourbon Street. Oh. I replaced that fun with barfing slash pooping for the rest of the night. For six hours, I alternated between throwing up and shitting my brains out. For the record, that's six stabs into the Amy Voodoo doll, six oysters, and six hours of barfing and shitting. Strange, me think so. I'm gonna have to agree.

I gotta say that's weird. So our friends get back from the bars just as I'm starting to feel better And I actually wake up feeling better than their partying asses Well, it was time to head back to Memphis, so we pack our shit and leave It wasn't until we were driving back that it started to click for me our fucking friend could have cursed me with that But Udall, but then I remember that this wasn't the first time I had oysters that this wasn't the first time I had oysters And I ended up throwing a th-up that night too It has been a bit of a blur due to the wine consumption. So here I am wondering for the rest of my life whether it was voodoo or food allergy that made me

sick that night. I have no intention of finding out if oysters make me sick. And honestly, I'm not upset about not putting one of those things in my mouth again. So I suppose we will never know. What do you think? Voodoo or food allergy? I'm going with what I said in the beginning, a combination of both. Yeah, a combo of both, I would say. Thank you for reading my story about barfing and shitting. It's not every day. You can put that in a story and assume it won't offend anyone. If this story taught me anything, it's don't fucking go anywhere in the south during the summer. It's too fucking hot and weird things happen. We move back to Colorado and I must say,

my dainty Colorado skin's been much happier. I love the south, many great things are there, but prefer less oxygen due to high altitude and drier. I hope this finds you ladies with abundance of awesomeness, because let's face it, you deserve it. For how many people of you have helped through this f-ing pandemic with your podcast, love you guts.

My Aussie friends say that to me, and I think I'm cool like them, so now I say it too. I love that Aussie people say that. Yeah, I mean, Gets, because I say that. You do say that. I love that. So keep it weird, but not so weird. You sweat your ass off, try to escape the heat

by using stores, let me say that again. Yeah, you gotta start doing stuff. No. But not so weird, you sweat your ass off, try to escape the heat by using stores for the AC, drink beer, even though it's against your better judgment, go to a Voodoo stop to have a fuck. Alright, I need you to do it.

I'm gonna do it. I fucked it up. So keep it weird, but not somewhere that you sweat your ass off, try to escape the heat by using their stores for their air. Oh, see, I fucked up too. Let me try one more time. Hold on, let me try one more time. Hmm.

So keep it weird, but not somewhere that you sweat your ass off, try to escape the heat by using stores for their AC drink beer Even though it's against your better judgment Go to a voodoo shop to have a voodoo doll of you stab six times eat six oysters trying to cool down And then barf and poop for six hours as a result of one of those one of those two other things boom We did it, but why was that so hard? I don't know one less note. I've still never been to Bourbon Street cheers Honestly, I think that I think that like bourbon street. I don't know if I would go there. I think Bourbon Street is like a daytime activity.

Yeah, not a night-time activity. And I think at night, from what I hear, I'm sitting here speaking like I've been there. Me too. From what I've heard, it gets a little gnarly at night. Yeah, well. From what I've seen, like if you've ever seen a TikTok of Bourbon Street at night, you don't want to end up on a TikTok on Bourbon Street. No, you definitely don't want to do that.

No. So I think that's like a day-to-day activity. I do. I do. I do. I don't know. I'm officially malfunctioning now, so... It's the end of the episode, so there we are.

So, guys, that was like our fun New Orleans episode. I loved it. There was like less crazy, you know, like this wasn't like a super like murderous episode or anything like that But man, there was some scary ghosts in this one and there was some fun hitchhiking adventures and poop is always scary and possible voodoo curse. Yeah, so definitely scary. There we go. This was a fun one. It was so we hope you keep listening and we hope you keep it But not so weird that you don't write us in another tale about a listener story in New Ireland because I really just want you to keep doing that and I don't know why I said it like an Irish woman.

Thank you so much. I was just going to say she said New Orleans. I've been watching a lot of the Lodak. I liked that a lot. New Orleans. New Orleans. Forever. Ashley. Hey, Prime Members! You can listen to Morvid, Early, and Add Free on Amazon Music. Download

the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen Add Free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. What if you were trafficked into a cult over shot nine times or fell in love with a vampire or went into a minor surgery and woke up one week later, paralyzed? What would you do? I'm Whit Missildine, the creator of this is actually happening, a podcast from Wondry that brings you extraordinary true stories of life-changing events, told by the people who lived

them. From a young man that dooms his entire future with one choice, to a woman who survived a notorious serial killer, you'll hear their first-person account of how they overcame remarkable circumstances. Each episode is an exploration of the human spirit and personal discovery. These haunting accounts sound like Hollywood movies, but I assure you this is actually happening. Follow this is actually happening wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wunderly app.

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