Transcript of Episode 577: Listener Tales 87

Wndyri Plus subscribers can listen to Morbid early and ad-free. Join WNDYRI Plus in the WNDYRI app or on Apple podcasts.

I'm Dan Tabersky. In 2011, something strange began to happen at a high school in upstate New York. A mystery illness, bizarre symptoms, and spreading fast. What's the answer? And what do you do if they tell you it's all in your house. Fast about a decade, and my parents were having some Mason rework done out back. In walks this strange guy who looks like something out of a movie. Cowboy hat, shaggy hair, full of beads. Wasn't sure if he was going to build something out of rocks or hold some ceremony. As it turns out, it was the latter.Wow, didn't see that coming. Me neither.As we got to talking, he made mention he married the daughter of a native medicine man and was somewhat knowledgeable of the supernatural. He said he often used diving rods to locate water and to communicate with the other side quote, unquote. My dad, ever the skeptic, challenged him to find the original well on the property, which he did without a problem. Oh, damn. He then asked if we had had any supernatural happenings. I chimed in with my experiences, and all of a sudden my parents chimed in with a few of their own. Oh. Apparently, when they first bought the house, it was in total disrepair, and they set out to renovate. Never a good idea in a haunted house. On one occasion, they put up some what I'm assuming to be incredibly tacky wallpaper in the kitchen, as people did in the 1980s. Upon returning, they found all the new wallpaper on the ground, and it appeared to have aged by years.I love that the ghosts were like, no. Haemus. No.Eew. Clearly, these ghosties have some taste, and they said, not in my motherfucking house. Another event happened shortly after they installed a new boiler in the basement, and for no reason, it ruptured and flooded the old basement. I suppose in this case, they were envious of hot water and indoor heating. Probably. Another brief side note, this basement ceiling is completely charred from a fire in the 1800s. Still structurally sound, but very creepy to look at, especially with the old root cellar as a backdrop.Oh, that's so spooky.Divorced beheaded, died. Divorced beheaded, survived. We know the six wives of Henry VIII as ponds in his hunt for a son, but their lives were so much more than just being the king's wives. I'm Aresha Skidmer-Williams. And I'm Brooke Zifrin. And we're the hosts of WNDRI's podcast, Even the Royals. In each episode, we'll pull back the curtain on royal families, past and present from all over the world, to show you the darker side of what it means to be royalty. We rarely see Henry VIII's wives in their own light as women who use the tools available to them to hold on to power.Some women won the game, others lost, but they were all unexpected agents in their own stories.Being a part of a royal family might seem enticing, but more often than not, it comes at the expense of everything else, like your freedom, your privacy, and sometimes even your head. Follow even the Royals on the Wendery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Go deeper and get more of the story with WNDRI's top history podcasts, including American Scandal, Legacy, and Black History for Real.I'm Dan Tabersky. In 2011, something strange began to happen at the high school in Leroy, New York.I was at my locker, and she came up to me, and she was stuttering super bad.I'm Stop being around.She's like, I can't.A mystery illness, bizarre symptoms, and spreading fast.It's doubling and tripling, and it's all these girls.With a diagnosis, the state tried to keep on the down low. Everybody thought I was holding something back. Well, you were holding something back. Intention Yeah, well, yeah. It's hysteria. It's all in your head. It's not physical. Oh, my gosh, you're exaggerating. Is this the largest mass hysteria since the witches of Salem? Or is it something else entirely? Something's wrong Something's not right.Leroy was the new dateland, and everyone was trying to solve the murder.A new limited series from WNDY and Pineable Street studios, Hysterical. Follow Hysterical on the Wundery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Hysterical early and ad-free right now by joining WNDY Plus.Looping back to our shaggy white in-law to a native medicine man, he decides he wants to look around and see if he can communicate with these potential spirits. He starts shouting out instructions to our spectral roommates as to how they will be communicating. His little metal rod started moving with the questions he was asking. We soon deduced that we had two spirits living with us, a man and a woman with no relation to each other. They were not malevolent by any stretch, but they do have a seriously mischievous side.I love that.They fessed up to the wallpaper incident 25 years prior. Then, as soon as it started, the rod stopped moving. I I guess ghosts don't like playing 20 questions. Who does? Say what you will about Medicine Man or their in-laws or diving rods or whatever. Something was there. You could tell by how they moved. It wasn't like they just drifted together. There was something purposeful about it. Now I'm on my own with my own beautiful family in my own house. I love that. Sand's spooky roommates. I married a very beautiful woman. Nerds really do win in the end. They really do, Sam. My mom is now selling the old house, and I wonder what the next stewards of the house will experience from the mischievous duo that reside in the old halls. As long as they don't add any wallpaper, they should be fine. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my long-winded version of my experiences in my childhood home. Sincerely, a much larger but still nerdy Sam who has since discovered contacts, fit in clothing, and hair product. Ps, sorry the whole story doesn't revolve around a nearsighted scary poop. I just needed a good attention grabber.Pss, still riding high on Super Bowl 52, 41, 33. Suck it, Tom braided. Big dick, nick, forever. I'm Philadelphia. Of course, I'm an obnoxious football fan.Philadelphia are obnoxious sports fans. Are they really? I didn't know that. Not knocking you because we are also obnoxious sports fans.But Philadelphia has got us beat, I think.I'm obsessed with that story. Sam, I love you. I love that you married a beautiful woman. You have a family of your own.I love your IBS ghost. I love your IBS ghost. I love that they had taste and said, Fuck this wallpaper.I just really love that.It's great. That's great. It's great. You're wonderful, Sam. Fantastic.So this one's called The Roommate from Actual Hell: A Human Sacrifice. Whoa.Just a little bit of earlier today, and someone mentioned they love Matthew Gray Is it Goobler? Yeah. I always say it wrong. I do, too. And fun fact, I know his family super well. Like his character, Spencer Reid, he grew up in Vegas like me, and his family went to the same church my family did. Whoa. While I've only ever seen him once or twice when I I was young, my older sister, I shit you not, went on a few dates with his younger brother. And now that I'm older and have literally binge watched Criminal Minds multiple times, I'm really pissed my dumb ass sister didn't marry his brother, so I could have been related to him. Boo, that whore. Also, his sister-in-law and his mom were frequently in charge of watching the children in church. So when I was young, I got to know them really well.Isn't that such a fun fact? That's really interesting.Yeah.I love him.So on to my crazy-ass story. You know how when you first go to college, one typically rooms in the freshman dorms and you have no idea who your roommates are going to be, if they're going to be psychos or try to strangle you in your sleep. Yeah, my 18-year-old self was hella worried about that because I had just found out my best friend since fourth damn grade who had planned with me for years to go to the same school, just told me she wasn't going to go to college with me because that shit's expensive. I didn't blame her, but we were going to be roomies, and I was hella bummed that she wouldn't be with me. Also, terrified I was going to have a crazy ass roommate who dealt drugs out the apartment or something. It's a fair concern. Which you don't know what you're walking into.Yeah, that's a lot.So it's a legit concern of who you're going to be living with. That's overwhelming. It's a stranger. Well, it turns out I had nothing to worry about. All my roommates were wonderful, and we became best friends forever. The end. Ha ha. Just kidding. That first year, I actually did luck out and had great roommates, except for that one dumb ass shithead who has never had to be literally and do anything for herself ever and couldn't figure out how to do the most basic adult things, like how microwaves work or how to melt butter. Like, no joke. She almost blew up the apartment putting an entire ass metal pan in the microwave and pressing start. That's all in parentheses. I love that.I hope you're not listening, but my little sister at like, I think.I hope you're listening.I think she had to be like 12, 13, maybe 14, and put metal into the microwave. And we all were like, Are you fucking kidding? Wow. Is this a joke?Are you all right?She was like, I didn't know.The answer is nor. Nor.Love you, Lou.So other than her, they rocked. We had a good time, and the girl I shared a room with became really close to me. This is important to the rest of the story. The girl I roomed with, Mandy, wanted to live with me and another girl from our apartment, Anna, the following semester. We decided to move off campus and find a new place to live because that shit's also expensive. But Anna and Mandy found this place way far away from campus, which was fine for them because they had cars. But my fat ass didn't want to have to walk or bike that shit. So I found a different apartment closer to campus and moved there with a friend I'd met in school and moved in with four other roommates, six people total, one fridge. Who the hell thought that was a good idea?That sounds horrible.In the end, Anna had to back out of living with Mandy due to financial reasons, and Mandy was left with three new roommates who ended up being total shit stains who were awful to her and gave her crazy anxiety. I'm sorry. I know. She ended up basically living on my couch and becoming our seventh roommate. Holy shit. Okay, backstory over. Sorry. I'm long winded as fuck and don't know how to make things short and sweet. I am who I am. I am also Popeye. In this new apartment, we were a mix of one freshman, four sophomores, one senior, and a sophomore stray we let take over our living room, AKA, Mandy. I shared a room with my friend Casey, and the only other girl you need to know the name of is the senior Stephanie. She mostly kept to herself. She was an English major just trying to graduate. Although none of us were ever sure if she was actually attending her classes because we never saw that broad leave her room. Like ever. She was just always there. I don't know. Maybe she was some Hogwarts reject witch who had figured out how to apparate to and fro.But this home never seemed to leave. But you also never knew if she was home. Her door was always closed. You could be home for hours and be pretty damn convinced you were the only one home. And then this bitch would just waltz out of her room, whistling some weird ass tune, rummage through the fridge, and then mozeon back inside, not to be heard from again until three days later.Up until this point, great fucking roommate.Sounds great. Ideal. Also, this hoe never washed her dishes. And that's where you lose me. And that's where you lose me. And one time I knocked on her door to invite her to come play games with us, and her room was hella disgusting. There was shit everywhere. And who knows, maybe a dead body buried under the mountain of dirty laundry. You'd never be able to tell. Eventually, we learned to leave Stephanie alone because she was always grumpy and weird as hell. For the first few weeks, this worked out fine. But one day, the other five and a half roommates and I, we always joked that Mandy was only a half roommate. We're just chilling in the living room, getting to know each other better and stuff, when we heard the most haunting ass moan just come out of her room.What? That's it. Just the moan.We all just looked at each other, not sure what. I just picture you all just laughing, joking with each other. You're just like, Oh, my God.And everybody just stops and just stares in silence.Then we heard it again. My dumb ass was just about to ask if we should go ask if she was okay when straight up shit hit the fan or the wall. Because this bitch was throwing books and shit against her goddamn wall and yelling like someone had just come in and stabbed her in the chesticles. We all froze in fear and straight up all love that you guys just dipped.You're like, you know what? It sounds like she's going through it. She should have that alone time.Sounds like she's dying. We should dip. We should dip the hell out of here. She says, Our Uber was there yesterday.I mean, if she was already in a sketch, I'd be like, You know what? That's for you.Things like this started happening on the reg. Her having a complete meltdown and throwing stuff happened at least once a week. And when she did emerge from her lair, she would often be mumbling to herself, and we would occasionally hear maniacal laughter coming from behind her closed door.That'd be so scary.I'm still not convinced that she wasn't possessed by Satan himself, although Satan probs would have been way more pleasant to hang out with than her. And let's be honest, we would have had way more fun if he was right. I love you. Now, remember our half-roommate, half-adopted Stray Mandy, who sleeps on the couch because of her no good waste of space dumb ass roommates. Well, she probably had the spookiest experience with good old Steph. So one night, I was in my room blissfully dreaming about Gerard Butler or some other dreamy ass man. Who knows what I was actually dreaming about, but he's dreamy as hell. And all of a sudden, Mandy comes bursting into my room, waking up Casey and I, locks the door, turns on the light, and is wider than my thighs after winter. She looks me dead in the eyes and said she was sleeping with me. Apparently, she had stayed up late, chilling on the couch and reading a book on her Kindle when she heard Stephanie's door open. She quickly turned her Kindle off and pretended to be asleep because no one wants to deal with Steph's crazy ass. She heard Stephanie walk into the kitchen slowly while quietly singing the creepiest ass lullaby.I don't remember the exact words now, but it definitely had to do with death and demons. I don't think it was a real lullaby, but she sure as hell was singing it like one. She's like, It was about death and demons, so I don't think it was a real lullaby you would sing to your kids.Who knows, to be honest? Lullibis are fucking weird.Yeah. Once she reached the kitchen, Mandy cracked her eyes open and could see by the light of the moon that Stephanie had walked into the middle of the kitchen and then just stopped and stood there for five whole ass minutes.Five minutes is a long time.A long I shit you not, you guys just stood there like a psychopath staring into the void. Then she turned around and walked her spooky ass towards Mandy. She slowly... For some reason, I think calling people spooky is the funiest shit. When somebody's like, That person's spooky, I think it's so funny.It makes me think of Katie Maloney from Mander Pumperals.Me too, calling Joe Spooky.It's just like such a- It's a read. It's a read. It is.So she slowly crept towards her, came right up to the couch, and stared straight down at Mandy with her greasy ass hair hanging around her face like the grudge herself just dragged her nasty ass out of the TV to get her next victim. Mandy tried not to scream. She said she was pretty sure she stopped breathing. After a full ass, terror-inspiring minute, Stephanie looked at her terror-filled face and whispers, Trick or dream.Can you fucking imagine?There's an important thing here. It was mid-November.I don't care if it was October, November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June, or July, August, or September. I would be. I don't know. I don't know about that. That's so scary. It's giving, Is Tamra home?It absolutely is giving, Is Tamra home?That was one of my best. I'd just like you to acknowledge that.That was a good one. That was a good one. Then she laughed maniacally and sauntered back to her room. Just like, hello. Then she said, I shit you not. I cannot make this show. Mandy waited 15 whole seconds before sprinting like hell to our locking herself in and then spending the rest of the night crammed into my twin-size bed with me. And I don't blame her.Me either.She slept with me for the next week, but sharing a twid bed is literally the worst thing ever. And I toss and turned. So after a week of this, I told her that I loved her and would do almost anything for her. But I could not keep sharing that small ass bed. She's like, I would do anything for love, but I won't share my bed. But I won't share my bed. So we kicked her back to the living room couch, informed all the other roommates of this absolutely terrifying story, and decided that we would all be locking our doors from now on. So you're just leaving Mandy in the middle and locking all your doors. Yup. Damn. And that if Stephanie were to ever go batshit crazy, Mandy would just have to be the unfortunate human sacrifice that would appease the monster. #bestfriendsforeever. Bestfriendsforever.This best friendship.That's the story of my roommate from hell and how Mandy almost became a human sacrifice. I ended up moving out the next semester, and Mandy moved into my room. I don't know why the hell she still wanted to be there, but at least now she has a door she can lock. And I never had to deal with Stephanie, the crazy in a bag, grabbed my stun gun, and pieced right on out of there as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran into Dave as he was pulling up to the apartment. I jumped in the truck and just screamed at him, Gun it. Now, Mike might have just been trying to scare me in my vulnerable drug-induced state, or maybe he was being a douchebag, but it got my attention and I moved out and didn't look back.Holy shit.Thankfully, no one got murdered at that apartment, and I decided maybe the straight and narrow path was a better fit for me.Hey, just shook you right into that. I love it.Well, now is where it gets interesting. Fast forward and several years later, a husband and three kids later, I decided to look up some random people on the computer to pass the time. After all, I I had three kids and I needed a mind-numming activity. I went down a few rabbit holes, even looked up what Justin Bieber was up to these days.You know, as everybody does.Of course. I decided to try to find my old roommate, James, and see what happened to him. I did the usual FaceTime, I think Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, with no luck and then just googled him. Suddenly, there he was, an old picture of him looking like the sweetface surfer kid I knew back in the day, except wearing a prisoner's outfit. Yeah, he was in prison serving life. What? To my shock, I read the story of what happened after I moved out. In fact, only a few months after I moved out. Yeah, a few months. Holy shit. Just writing this brings chills down my spine. What the fuck? My old roommate James and a friend were working for a man doing odd jobs on his farm when they had the great idea that instead of working to earn the money, they could go ahead and rob the boss instead. One night with plans in place, they drove a few tons over to where the boss lived in a rundown motor home on a few acres. No one around for miles. Fresh air is for dead people. Loaded with a rifle, they climbed to a hill to stake out the place and hide and wait.Seeing another man on the property with the boss, James and his friend decided to wait it out. After a few hours of waiting and watching, they decided to go ahead and rob both men. They creeped on the hill like your worst nightmare coming true, robbed them and shot them both in the back of the head. My palms were sweating at this point as I realized this could just as well have been me laying on the floor with a gunshot to the back of my head. Apparently, James was caught after blabbing to an informant, went to trial and two consecutive life sentences for first-degree murder. I was stunned. As I think back, I'm always grateful that I listened to my friend, entrusted my instincts, and noped the hell out of that apartment while I was still breathing. Anyway, that's my story of a close call with death. Thanks for reading and stay weird, but not so weird that you end up in a shitty little apartment spending all your money on partying, eating pinto beans for a month, and living with a future double murderer. Holy shit. Isn't that insane?First of all, holy shit. Second of all, holy shit. Mike's a real one. Yeah. For pulling you in there and being like, get the fuck out of the apartment.Because at first I was like, what the fuck is this creep about to do?What's Mike going to do right now?Closing the door slowly and shit.But damn. Thankfully, Mike was on it. Yeah. And then for you being smart enough to not... Because we've heard so many stories of like, you're stupid. No. And it's like you being smart enough to just be like, you know what? I'm out of here. Not a chance in that. If we're sleeping with a stun gun before that. That's incredible. Good job. Smart. You're a smart gal.You really are, Tiffany.Tiffany, you're a smart gal.Tiffany, five ever.Five ever. Let's see. Should I close it out with the Ghost fan listener tale? You've got to. Because I'm not even sure if it's roommate related. But you guys are just adorable. And I was like, There's a picture of both of them. And I was like, got to read it. Oh. Got to read it.Got to read it.So it says, let's see. Dear lovely morbid ladies, my name is Niva, and feel free to use my name. I give no fucks. That's a pretty name. That is a really pretty name. I'm so excited to write in to you, Chix, because I'm a 41-year-old Goth kid who really enjoys the work you two do and I'm grateful to have found your podcast. Thank you. I'm in love with you. I was inspired to write in because I am a giant ghost fan. Seriously, I'm on concerts 9 and 10 this summer. I'm so jealous. That's wild. And have a ridiculous amount of ghost merch. On top of that, my husband and I have nameless gou rings from thegreatfrog. Com as wedding rings because suited us so much more than being boring twats. No offense to anyone who likes to be boring. That's amazing. Anyways, I've included a photo of them and us for your viewing pleasure. And apologize upfront if this is a bit lengthy.No, you guys are so cute.I'm obsessed with it. I'm obsessed with the rings. John and I were talking about it recently, actually. So I'll be on board with you here, that we were like, if we got married now, he was like, my, my.I'm like, it's going to be such a different vibe when you got married.It's going to be when we marry again. But he was like, I feel like you would want Tobias Forge as Papa to officiate our wedding. Yeah, I could see that. And I was like, yes.Yeah. Full gear. Yeah. Full gear. And like, black bridesmaids, dresses.It would be so much fun.Do you think you'd wear a block?I totally would now. Yeah. I think I was much more concerned with upsetting anyone back then.Well, it's hard when you have...Yeah, you have grandparents around that. You know what I'm saying? And stuff. And I was much more not comfortable with being a little... I don't know how to explain. Like disruptive back then.So I think I like... Now you've leaned full-fledged.But now also I'm very comfortable with being weird. I like it. So it would be a different situation now. But he was joking about that and he was like, imagine if you could just have Ghost be your house band.You should do like a 20-year... What is it called? Vow renewal.Yeah.Thank you.Yeah. That would be crazy. Do that. That'd be fun. You get one life. Why not? You get one life. Have another party.That's also my motto. It's a good motto, I think. You have one life. Have another party. Have another party.I love it. So I'm with you on that for sure, Niva. The tale I have to share is ghostly and fun, and I think back on the experience fondly. I grew up in San Diego, California, and after years of living in the part of San Diego no one gives a crap about, I was finally able to move into an apartment in the pre-gentrified area of San Diego called City Heights. It was a slightly run-down part of town, but close to the best cemetery. Small clubs the band I was in played at. You're in a band, too. That's cool. In all of my band friends. It was very common for apartment buildings in City Heights to be smaller 2-3 unit buildings with a main detached house in the rear, near an alley. My roommate and I lived the second floor unit off 36 in University, which had a delicious chicken and ribs place on one corner and a strip club called Club Fantasy on the other. That's awesome. I used the smaller of the two bedrooms in the apartment, and shortly after moving in, I began to notice some strange things happen. Near one of the living room windows, I would see balls of sparkling light that would get larger and larger, spin around, and then disappear.That was me. That was just me. This happened multiple times. My cat, Lexington, what an amazing name, would also be caught staring at the same window, wide-eyed and bewildered, so I can only imagine what he saw. Things only got more interesting with time. For For example, my bedroom window faced the alley where a bright light was always on and there was no balcony, walkway or anything on the second floor. It went straight down to the ground. My room was completely dark and the only light that was coming in was from said alley. I was sitting in my living room and had gotten this funny sense that I should look up. I obeyed. And what the fuck do I see? A solid black silhouette of a head and shoulders that looked like a young boy with a bull haircut. L-o-l. It literally says L-O-L. That moved across the window and then disappeared into the darkness. Like, what the fuck? That's horrifying. I sat there frozen and couldn't believe what the fuck I just saw. I told my roommate what happened, and she looked at me stunned, then said she wants to try to make contact with it to see if we can learn anything about anyone residing in the apartment with us.Now, don't judge me. We used a Ouija board. I'm not judging you.I'm not judging you.I know. I know. Always seems to be bullshit, right?Actually, no.I don't. Actually, no.Actually, no. Always seems to be downright terrifying and people end cursed for life.I don't normally care for them due to a bad childhood experience, but I said, Fuck it, and we busted it out. Within 10 to 20 minutes of starting to ask questions, the planchette started moving. Both my roommate and I fiercely promised we were not pushing it. I decided to ask, What is your name? It answered, Christopher. I then asked how old he was, and he answered, Thirteen. Finally, I asked, Are you the boy who I saw in my room? And it answered, Yes. Both me and my roommate released our fingers from the planchette and screamed because we both had no other reaction we were capable... There was no other reaction we were capable of. I politely said good night to Christopher and asked no further questions. Fantastic. To wrap up this bizarre hotel, I'll tell you my very last interaction with Christopher. I was in bed with the door shut, lights off, and the roomie had taken the cat into her room for the night. I'm the type that likes to leave a leg out of the bed under the blanket when I sleep. That's insane. Even if the chances of the monster under my bed grabbing me and sucking me into a dark abyss are high, they are.I like to live dangerously. You're a bad bitch. After I closed my eyes to enter dreamland, I felt something that shook me to my fucking core. Very softly, I felt something graze the back of my calf like someone had run their hand very gently across my skin.Christopher, that's a So creepy.Christopher. Consent, baby.Christopher, you're getting Cansy.My eyes immediately opened and faster than you can say, holy, shitty, titty balls. I pulled my leg under my blanket and curled into the fetal position. I was terrified. Shook was an understatement. I had never I've never experienced anything like this before. But after I calmed my tits, I took a deep breath and calmly said, Okay, I understand you're here, but I want to go to bed now, so you need to go. And I never saw, heard, or felt anything from Christopher again. Wow. I hope you two enjoyed this, and I want to say thank you for all the hard work and dedication you put in your podcast. So keep it weird, but not so weird you keep a leg out while trying to sleep, risking eternal darkness in the Abyss while a bowl cut having ghost scroops your leg. Spookily ours, Niva. Spookily hours.I love it.Basically ours, diva.Oh, my God.You guys are adorable. I'm obsessed with your rings.I'm obsessed with all of these listener tales. We need to do another installment of worst roommates.Yeah, these are fun. I love doing the theme ones.I love doing the subject line, Nightmare Roomates.Yeah, if you have any crazy ones.Exactly. And obviously, don't forget to go watch Worst Roomet Ever on Netflix. It premieres globally on June 26, 2024. This year, motherfuckers.And in our description for this episode, we'll have a link so you can go check and see what it's all about. Yeah.And for all you weirdos who listen early and ad free, you can catch up on the first season now, so that way you're ready when the new season drops. Hell, yeah. Worst remakes ever on Netflix. Do it. We hope you keep listening. Bye. No. We hope you.We hope you keep listening. And we hope you.She's not singing. Keep it. Weird. But not so weird that you have a crazy college experience of witchcraft and attempted murder because that one was absolutely insane. And I really hope Ella's doing better. Definitely so weird that you and your hubby got matching Ghost.What are they called? Wedding Rings. Wedding rings. Wedding rings.Nameless schools. Nameless schools. That's what I meant. Nameless school. Nameless school wedding rings. And definitely don't keep it so weird that a ghost with a bowl cut touches your leg because I think you might be cursed for life now. Do keep it so weird that you shit a myopic Spooky Dooky in the tub because that's fair enough. And keep it so weird that you wake people up in the middle of the night and whisper trick or treat to them, but never so weird that you are going to rob somebody, but do keep it so weird that you sleep with a stunt gun underneath your pillow.Okay, do it.Bye.Bye.See you. Peace out. Deuces. Arrivederci. Deuces. I don't know how to say bye in any other. Ciao. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining WNDYRI+ in the WNDYRI app or on Apple podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wndyri. Com/survey.

house. Fast about a decade, and my parents were having some Mason rework done out back. In walks this strange guy who looks like something out of a movie. Cowboy hat, shaggy hair, full of beads. Wasn't sure if he was going to build something out of rocks or hold some ceremony. As it turns out, it was the latter.

Wow, didn't see that coming. Me neither.

As we got to talking, he made mention he married the daughter of a native medicine man and was somewhat knowledgeable of the supernatural. He said he often used diving rods to locate water and to communicate with the other side quote, unquote. My dad, ever the skeptic, challenged him to find the original well on the property, which he did without a problem. Oh, damn. He then asked if we had had any supernatural happenings. I chimed in with my experiences, and all of a sudden my parents chimed in with a few of their own. Oh. Apparently, when they first bought the house, it was in total disrepair, and they set out to renovate. Never a good idea in a haunted house. On one occasion, they put up some what I'm assuming to be incredibly tacky wallpaper in the kitchen, as people did in the 1980s. Upon returning, they found all the new wallpaper on the ground, and it appeared to have aged by years.

I love that the ghosts were like, no. Haemus. No.

Eew. Clearly, these ghosties have some taste, and they said, not in my motherfucking house. Another event happened shortly after they installed a new boiler in the basement, and for no reason, it ruptured and flooded the old basement. I suppose in this case, they were envious of hot water and indoor heating. Probably. Another brief side note, this basement ceiling is completely charred from a fire in the 1800s. Still structurally sound, but very creepy to look at, especially with the old root cellar as a backdrop.

Oh, that's so spooky.

Divorced beheaded, died. Divorced beheaded, survived. We know the six wives of Henry VIII as ponds in his hunt for a son, but their lives were so much more than just being the king's wives. I'm Aresha Skidmer-Williams. And I'm Brooke Zifrin. And we're the hosts of WNDRI's podcast, Even the Royals. In each episode, we'll pull back the curtain on royal families, past and present from all over the world, to show you the darker side of what it means to be royalty. We rarely see Henry VIII's wives in their own light as women who use the tools available to them to hold on to power.

Some women won the game, others lost, but they were all unexpected agents in their own stories.

Being a part of a royal family might seem enticing, but more often than not, it comes at the expense of everything else, like your freedom, your privacy, and sometimes even your head. Follow even the Royals on the Wendery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Go deeper and get more of the story with WNDRI's top history podcasts, including American Scandal, Legacy, and Black History for Real.

I'm Dan Tabersky. In 2011, something strange began to happen at the high school in Leroy, New York.

I was at my locker, and she came up to me, and she was stuttering super bad.

I'm Stop being around.

She's like, I can't.

A mystery illness, bizarre symptoms, and spreading fast.

It's doubling and tripling, and it's all these girls.

With a diagnosis, the state tried to keep on the down low. Everybody thought I was holding something back. Well, you were holding something back. Intention Yeah, well, yeah. It's hysteria. It's all in your head. It's not physical. Oh, my gosh, you're exaggerating. Is this the largest mass hysteria since the witches of Salem? Or is it something else entirely? Something's wrong Something's not right.

Leroy was the new dateland, and everyone was trying to solve the murder.

A new limited series from WNDY and Pineable Street studios, Hysterical. Follow Hysterical on the Wundery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Hysterical early and ad-free right now by joining WNDY Plus.

Looping back to our shaggy white in-law to a native medicine man, he decides he wants to look around and see if he can communicate with these potential spirits. He starts shouting out instructions to our spectral roommates as to how they will be communicating. His little metal rod started moving with the questions he was asking. We soon deduced that we had two spirits living with us, a man and a woman with no relation to each other. They were not malevolent by any stretch, but they do have a seriously mischievous side.

I love that.

They fessed up to the wallpaper incident 25 years prior. Then, as soon as it started, the rod stopped moving. I I guess ghosts don't like playing 20 questions. Who does? Say what you will about Medicine Man or their in-laws or diving rods or whatever. Something was there. You could tell by how they moved. It wasn't like they just drifted together. There was something purposeful about it. Now I'm on my own with my own beautiful family in my own house. I love that. Sand's spooky roommates. I married a very beautiful woman. Nerds really do win in the end. They really do, Sam. My mom is now selling the old house, and I wonder what the next stewards of the house will experience from the mischievous duo that reside in the old halls. As long as they don't add any wallpaper, they should be fine. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my long-winded version of my experiences in my childhood home. Sincerely, a much larger but still nerdy Sam who has since discovered contacts, fit in clothing, and hair product. Ps, sorry the whole story doesn't revolve around a nearsighted scary poop. I just needed a good attention grabber.

Pss, still riding high on Super Bowl 52, 41, 33. Suck it, Tom braided. Big dick, nick, forever. I'm Philadelphia. Of course, I'm an obnoxious football fan.

Philadelphia are obnoxious sports fans. Are they really? I didn't know that. Not knocking you because we are also obnoxious sports fans.

But Philadelphia has got us beat, I think.

I'm obsessed with that story. Sam, I love you. I love that you married a beautiful woman. You have a family of your own.

I love your IBS ghost. I love your IBS ghost. I love that they had taste and said, Fuck this wallpaper.

I just really love that.

It's great. That's great. It's great. You're wonderful, Sam. Fantastic.

So this one's called The Roommate from Actual Hell: A Human Sacrifice. Whoa.

Just a little bit of earlier today, and someone mentioned they love Matthew Gray Is it Goobler? Yeah. I always say it wrong. I do, too. And fun fact, I know his family super well. Like his character, Spencer Reid, he grew up in Vegas like me, and his family went to the same church my family did. Whoa. While I've only ever seen him once or twice when I I was young, my older sister, I shit you not, went on a few dates with his younger brother. And now that I'm older and have literally binge watched Criminal Minds multiple times, I'm really pissed my dumb ass sister didn't marry his brother, so I could have been related to him. Boo, that whore. Also, his sister-in-law and his mom were frequently in charge of watching the children in church. So when I was young, I got to know them really well.Isn't that such a fun fact? That's really interesting.Yeah.I love him.So on to my crazy-ass story. You know how when you first go to college, one typically rooms in the freshman dorms and you have no idea who your roommates are going to be, if they're going to be psychos or try to strangle you in your sleep. Yeah, my 18-year-old self was hella worried about that because I had just found out my best friend since fourth damn grade who had planned with me for years to go to the same school, just told me she wasn't going to go to college with me because that shit's expensive. I didn't blame her, but we were going to be roomies, and I was hella bummed that she wouldn't be with me. Also, terrified I was going to have a crazy ass roommate who dealt drugs out the apartment or something. It's a fair concern. Which you don't know what you're walking into.Yeah, that's a lot.So it's a legit concern of who you're going to be living with. That's overwhelming. It's a stranger. Well, it turns out I had nothing to worry about. All my roommates were wonderful, and we became best friends forever. The end. Ha ha. Just kidding. That first year, I actually did luck out and had great roommates, except for that one dumb ass shithead who has never had to be literally and do anything for herself ever and couldn't figure out how to do the most basic adult things, like how microwaves work or how to melt butter. Like, no joke. She almost blew up the apartment putting an entire ass metal pan in the microwave and pressing start. That's all in parentheses. I love that.I hope you're not listening, but my little sister at like, I think.I hope you're listening.I think she had to be like 12, 13, maybe 14, and put metal into the microwave. And we all were like, Are you fucking kidding? Wow. Is this a joke?Are you all right?She was like, I didn't know.The answer is nor. Nor.Love you, Lou.So other than her, they rocked. We had a good time, and the girl I shared a room with became really close to me. This is important to the rest of the story. The girl I roomed with, Mandy, wanted to live with me and another girl from our apartment, Anna, the following semester. We decided to move off campus and find a new place to live because that shit's also expensive. But Anna and Mandy found this place way far away from campus, which was fine for them because they had cars. But my fat ass didn't want to have to walk or bike that shit. So I found a different apartment closer to campus and moved there with a friend I'd met in school and moved in with four other roommates, six people total, one fridge. Who the hell thought that was a good idea?That sounds horrible.In the end, Anna had to back out of living with Mandy due to financial reasons, and Mandy was left with three new roommates who ended up being total shit stains who were awful to her and gave her crazy anxiety. I'm sorry. I know. She ended up basically living on my couch and becoming our seventh roommate. Holy shit. Okay, backstory over. Sorry. I'm long winded as fuck and don't know how to make things short and sweet. I am who I am. I am also Popeye. In this new apartment, we were a mix of one freshman, four sophomores, one senior, and a sophomore stray we let take over our living room, AKA, Mandy. I shared a room with my friend Casey, and the only other girl you need to know the name of is the senior Stephanie. She mostly kept to herself. She was an English major just trying to graduate. Although none of us were ever sure if she was actually attending her classes because we never saw that broad leave her room. Like ever. She was just always there. I don't know. Maybe she was some Hogwarts reject witch who had figured out how to apparate to and fro.But this home never seemed to leave. But you also never knew if she was home. Her door was always closed. You could be home for hours and be pretty damn convinced you were the only one home. And then this bitch would just waltz out of her room, whistling some weird ass tune, rummage through the fridge, and then mozeon back inside, not to be heard from again until three days later.Up until this point, great fucking roommate.Sounds great. Ideal. Also, this hoe never washed her dishes. And that's where you lose me. And that's where you lose me. And one time I knocked on her door to invite her to come play games with us, and her room was hella disgusting. There was shit everywhere. And who knows, maybe a dead body buried under the mountain of dirty laundry. You'd never be able to tell. Eventually, we learned to leave Stephanie alone because she was always grumpy and weird as hell. For the first few weeks, this worked out fine. But one day, the other five and a half roommates and I, we always joked that Mandy was only a half roommate. We're just chilling in the living room, getting to know each other better and stuff, when we heard the most haunting ass moan just come out of her room.What? That's it. Just the moan.We all just looked at each other, not sure what. I just picture you all just laughing, joking with each other. You're just like, Oh, my God.And everybody just stops and just stares in silence.Then we heard it again. My dumb ass was just about to ask if we should go ask if she was okay when straight up shit hit the fan or the wall. Because this bitch was throwing books and shit against her goddamn wall and yelling like someone had just come in and stabbed her in the chesticles. We all froze in fear and straight up all love that you guys just dipped.You're like, you know what? It sounds like she's going through it. She should have that alone time.Sounds like she's dying. We should dip. We should dip the hell out of here. She says, Our Uber was there yesterday.I mean, if she was already in a sketch, I'd be like, You know what? That's for you.Things like this started happening on the reg. Her having a complete meltdown and throwing stuff happened at least once a week. And when she did emerge from her lair, she would often be mumbling to herself, and we would occasionally hear maniacal laughter coming from behind her closed door.That'd be so scary.I'm still not convinced that she wasn't possessed by Satan himself, although Satan probs would have been way more pleasant to hang out with than her. And let's be honest, we would have had way more fun if he was right. I love you. Now, remember our half-roommate, half-adopted Stray Mandy, who sleeps on the couch because of her no good waste of space dumb ass roommates. Well, she probably had the spookiest experience with good old Steph. So one night, I was in my room blissfully dreaming about Gerard Butler or some other dreamy ass man. Who knows what I was actually dreaming about, but he's dreamy as hell. And all of a sudden, Mandy comes bursting into my room, waking up Casey and I, locks the door, turns on the light, and is wider than my thighs after winter. She looks me dead in the eyes and said she was sleeping with me. Apparently, she had stayed up late, chilling on the couch and reading a book on her Kindle when she heard Stephanie's door open. She quickly turned her Kindle off and pretended to be asleep because no one wants to deal with Steph's crazy ass. She heard Stephanie walk into the kitchen slowly while quietly singing the creepiest ass lullaby.I don't remember the exact words now, but it definitely had to do with death and demons. I don't think it was a real lullaby, but she sure as hell was singing it like one. She's like, It was about death and demons, so I don't think it was a real lullaby you would sing to your kids.Who knows, to be honest? Lullibis are fucking weird.Yeah. Once she reached the kitchen, Mandy cracked her eyes open and could see by the light of the moon that Stephanie had walked into the middle of the kitchen and then just stopped and stood there for five whole ass minutes.Five minutes is a long time.A long I shit you not, you guys just stood there like a psychopath staring into the void. Then she turned around and walked her spooky ass towards Mandy. She slowly... For some reason, I think calling people spooky is the funiest shit. When somebody's like, That person's spooky, I think it's so funny.It makes me think of Katie Maloney from Mander Pumperals.Me too, calling Joe Spooky.It's just like such a- It's a read. It's a read. It is.So she slowly crept towards her, came right up to the couch, and stared straight down at Mandy with her greasy ass hair hanging around her face like the grudge herself just dragged her nasty ass out of the TV to get her next victim. Mandy tried not to scream. She said she was pretty sure she stopped breathing. After a full ass, terror-inspiring minute, Stephanie looked at her terror-filled face and whispers, Trick or dream.Can you fucking imagine?There's an important thing here. It was mid-November.I don't care if it was October, November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June, or July, August, or September. I would be. I don't know. I don't know about that. That's so scary. It's giving, Is Tamra home?It absolutely is giving, Is Tamra home?That was one of my best. I'd just like you to acknowledge that.That was a good one. That was a good one. Then she laughed maniacally and sauntered back to her room. Just like, hello. Then she said, I shit you not. I cannot make this show. Mandy waited 15 whole seconds before sprinting like hell to our locking herself in and then spending the rest of the night crammed into my twin-size bed with me. And I don't blame her.Me either.She slept with me for the next week, but sharing a twid bed is literally the worst thing ever. And I toss and turned. So after a week of this, I told her that I loved her and would do almost anything for her. But I could not keep sharing that small ass bed. She's like, I would do anything for love, but I won't share my bed. But I won't share my bed. So we kicked her back to the living room couch, informed all the other roommates of this absolutely terrifying story, and decided that we would all be locking our doors from now on. So you're just leaving Mandy in the middle and locking all your doors. Yup. Damn. And that if Stephanie were to ever go batshit crazy, Mandy would just have to be the unfortunate human sacrifice that would appease the monster. #bestfriendsforeever. Bestfriendsforever.This best friendship.That's the story of my roommate from hell and how Mandy almost became a human sacrifice. I ended up moving out the next semester, and Mandy moved into my room. I don't know why the hell she still wanted to be there, but at least now she has a door she can lock. And I never had to deal with Stephanie, the crazy in a bag, grabbed my stun gun, and pieced right on out of there as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran into Dave as he was pulling up to the apartment. I jumped in the truck and just screamed at him, Gun it. Now, Mike might have just been trying to scare me in my vulnerable drug-induced state, or maybe he was being a douchebag, but it got my attention and I moved out and didn't look back.Holy shit.Thankfully, no one got murdered at that apartment, and I decided maybe the straight and narrow path was a better fit for me.Hey, just shook you right into that. I love it.Well, now is where it gets interesting. Fast forward and several years later, a husband and three kids later, I decided to look up some random people on the computer to pass the time. After all, I I had three kids and I needed a mind-numming activity. I went down a few rabbit holes, even looked up what Justin Bieber was up to these days.You know, as everybody does.Of course. I decided to try to find my old roommate, James, and see what happened to him. I did the usual FaceTime, I think Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, with no luck and then just googled him. Suddenly, there he was, an old picture of him looking like the sweetface surfer kid I knew back in the day, except wearing a prisoner's outfit. Yeah, he was in prison serving life. What? To my shock, I read the story of what happened after I moved out. In fact, only a few months after I moved out. Yeah, a few months. Holy shit. Just writing this brings chills down my spine. What the fuck? My old roommate James and a friend were working for a man doing odd jobs on his farm when they had the great idea that instead of working to earn the money, they could go ahead and rob the boss instead. One night with plans in place, they drove a few tons over to where the boss lived in a rundown motor home on a few acres. No one around for miles. Fresh air is for dead people. Loaded with a rifle, they climbed to a hill to stake out the place and hide and wait.Seeing another man on the property with the boss, James and his friend decided to wait it out. After a few hours of waiting and watching, they decided to go ahead and rob both men. They creeped on the hill like your worst nightmare coming true, robbed them and shot them both in the back of the head. My palms were sweating at this point as I realized this could just as well have been me laying on the floor with a gunshot to the back of my head. Apparently, James was caught after blabbing to an informant, went to trial and two consecutive life sentences for first-degree murder. I was stunned. As I think back, I'm always grateful that I listened to my friend, entrusted my instincts, and noped the hell out of that apartment while I was still breathing. Anyway, that's my story of a close call with death. Thanks for reading and stay weird, but not so weird that you end up in a shitty little apartment spending all your money on partying, eating pinto beans for a month, and living with a future double murderer. Holy shit. Isn't that insane?First of all, holy shit. Second of all, holy shit. Mike's a real one. Yeah. For pulling you in there and being like, get the fuck out of the apartment.Because at first I was like, what the fuck is this creep about to do?What's Mike going to do right now?Closing the door slowly and shit.But damn. Thankfully, Mike was on it. Yeah. And then for you being smart enough to not... Because we've heard so many stories of like, you're stupid. No. And it's like you being smart enough to just be like, you know what? I'm out of here. Not a chance in that. If we're sleeping with a stun gun before that. That's incredible. Good job. Smart. You're a smart gal.You really are, Tiffany.Tiffany, you're a smart gal.Tiffany, five ever.Five ever. Let's see. Should I close it out with the Ghost fan listener tale? You've got to. Because I'm not even sure if it's roommate related. But you guys are just adorable. And I was like, There's a picture of both of them. And I was like, got to read it. Oh. Got to read it.Got to read it.So it says, let's see. Dear lovely morbid ladies, my name is Niva, and feel free to use my name. I give no fucks. That's a pretty name. That is a really pretty name. I'm so excited to write in to you, Chix, because I'm a 41-year-old Goth kid who really enjoys the work you two do and I'm grateful to have found your podcast. Thank you. I'm in love with you. I was inspired to write in because I am a giant ghost fan. Seriously, I'm on concerts 9 and 10 this summer. I'm so jealous. That's wild. And have a ridiculous amount of ghost merch. On top of that, my husband and I have nameless gou rings from thegreatfrog. Com as wedding rings because suited us so much more than being boring twats. No offense to anyone who likes to be boring. That's amazing. Anyways, I've included a photo of them and us for your viewing pleasure. And apologize upfront if this is a bit lengthy.No, you guys are so cute.I'm obsessed with it. I'm obsessed with the rings. John and I were talking about it recently, actually. So I'll be on board with you here, that we were like, if we got married now, he was like, my, my.I'm like, it's going to be such a different vibe when you got married.It's going to be when we marry again. But he was like, I feel like you would want Tobias Forge as Papa to officiate our wedding. Yeah, I could see that. And I was like, yes.Yeah. Full gear. Yeah. Full gear. And like, black bridesmaids, dresses.It would be so much fun.Do you think you'd wear a block?I totally would now. Yeah. I think I was much more concerned with upsetting anyone back then.Well, it's hard when you have...Yeah, you have grandparents around that. You know what I'm saying? And stuff. And I was much more not comfortable with being a little... I don't know how to explain. Like disruptive back then.So I think I like... Now you've leaned full-fledged.But now also I'm very comfortable with being weird. I like it. So it would be a different situation now. But he was joking about that and he was like, imagine if you could just have Ghost be your house band.You should do like a 20-year... What is it called? Vow renewal.Yeah.Thank you.Yeah. That would be crazy. Do that. That'd be fun. You get one life. Why not? You get one life. Have another party.That's also my motto. It's a good motto, I think. You have one life. Have another party. Have another party.I love it. So I'm with you on that for sure, Niva. The tale I have to share is ghostly and fun, and I think back on the experience fondly. I grew up in San Diego, California, and after years of living in the part of San Diego no one gives a crap about, I was finally able to move into an apartment in the pre-gentrified area of San Diego called City Heights. It was a slightly run-down part of town, but close to the best cemetery. Small clubs the band I was in played at. You're in a band, too. That's cool. In all of my band friends. It was very common for apartment buildings in City Heights to be smaller 2-3 unit buildings with a main detached house in the rear, near an alley. My roommate and I lived the second floor unit off 36 in University, which had a delicious chicken and ribs place on one corner and a strip club called Club Fantasy on the other. That's awesome. I used the smaller of the two bedrooms in the apartment, and shortly after moving in, I began to notice some strange things happen. Near one of the living room windows, I would see balls of sparkling light that would get larger and larger, spin around, and then disappear.That was me. That was just me. This happened multiple times. My cat, Lexington, what an amazing name, would also be caught staring at the same window, wide-eyed and bewildered, so I can only imagine what he saw. Things only got more interesting with time. For For example, my bedroom window faced the alley where a bright light was always on and there was no balcony, walkway or anything on the second floor. It went straight down to the ground. My room was completely dark and the only light that was coming in was from said alley. I was sitting in my living room and had gotten this funny sense that I should look up. I obeyed. And what the fuck do I see? A solid black silhouette of a head and shoulders that looked like a young boy with a bull haircut. L-o-l. It literally says L-O-L. That moved across the window and then disappeared into the darkness. Like, what the fuck? That's horrifying. I sat there frozen and couldn't believe what the fuck I just saw. I told my roommate what happened, and she looked at me stunned, then said she wants to try to make contact with it to see if we can learn anything about anyone residing in the apartment with us.Now, don't judge me. We used a Ouija board. I'm not judging you.I'm not judging you.I know. I know. Always seems to be bullshit, right?Actually, no.I don't. Actually, no.Actually, no. Always seems to be downright terrifying and people end cursed for life.I don't normally care for them due to a bad childhood experience, but I said, Fuck it, and we busted it out. Within 10 to 20 minutes of starting to ask questions, the planchette started moving. Both my roommate and I fiercely promised we were not pushing it. I decided to ask, What is your name? It answered, Christopher. I then asked how old he was, and he answered, Thirteen. Finally, I asked, Are you the boy who I saw in my room? And it answered, Yes. Both me and my roommate released our fingers from the planchette and screamed because we both had no other reaction we were capable... There was no other reaction we were capable of. I politely said good night to Christopher and asked no further questions. Fantastic. To wrap up this bizarre hotel, I'll tell you my very last interaction with Christopher. I was in bed with the door shut, lights off, and the roomie had taken the cat into her room for the night. I'm the type that likes to leave a leg out of the bed under the blanket when I sleep. That's insane. Even if the chances of the monster under my bed grabbing me and sucking me into a dark abyss are high, they are.I like to live dangerously. You're a bad bitch. After I closed my eyes to enter dreamland, I felt something that shook me to my fucking core. Very softly, I felt something graze the back of my calf like someone had run their hand very gently across my skin.Christopher, that's a So creepy.Christopher. Consent, baby.Christopher, you're getting Cansy.My eyes immediately opened and faster than you can say, holy, shitty, titty balls. I pulled my leg under my blanket and curled into the fetal position. I was terrified. Shook was an understatement. I had never I've never experienced anything like this before. But after I calmed my tits, I took a deep breath and calmly said, Okay, I understand you're here, but I want to go to bed now, so you need to go. And I never saw, heard, or felt anything from Christopher again. Wow. I hope you two enjoyed this, and I want to say thank you for all the hard work and dedication you put in your podcast. So keep it weird, but not so weird you keep a leg out while trying to sleep, risking eternal darkness in the Abyss while a bowl cut having ghost scroops your leg. Spookily ours, Niva. Spookily hours.I love it.Basically ours, diva.Oh, my God.You guys are adorable. I'm obsessed with your rings.I'm obsessed with all of these listener tales. We need to do another installment of worst roommates.Yeah, these are fun. I love doing the theme ones.I love doing the subject line, Nightmare Roomates.Yeah, if you have any crazy ones.Exactly. And obviously, don't forget to go watch Worst Roomet Ever on Netflix. It premieres globally on June 26, 2024. This year, motherfuckers.And in our description for this episode, we'll have a link so you can go check and see what it's all about. Yeah.And for all you weirdos who listen early and ad free, you can catch up on the first season now, so that way you're ready when the new season drops. Hell, yeah. Worst remakes ever on Netflix. Do it. We hope you keep listening. Bye. No. We hope you.We hope you keep listening. And we hope you.She's not singing. Keep it. Weird. But not so weird that you have a crazy college experience of witchcraft and attempted murder because that one was absolutely insane. And I really hope Ella's doing better. Definitely so weird that you and your hubby got matching Ghost.What are they called? Wedding Rings. Wedding rings. Wedding rings.Nameless schools. Nameless schools. That's what I meant. Nameless school. Nameless school wedding rings. And definitely don't keep it so weird that a ghost with a bowl cut touches your leg because I think you might be cursed for life now. Do keep it so weird that you shit a myopic Spooky Dooky in the tub because that's fair enough. And keep it so weird that you wake people up in the middle of the night and whisper trick or treat to them, but never so weird that you are going to rob somebody, but do keep it so weird that you sleep with a stunt gun underneath your pillow.Okay, do it.Bye.Bye.See you. Peace out. Deuces. Arrivederci. Deuces. I don't know how to say bye in any other. Ciao. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining WNDYRI+ in the WNDYRI app or on Apple podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wndyri. Com/survey.

earlier today, and someone mentioned they love Matthew Gray Is it Goobler? Yeah. I always say it wrong. I do, too. And fun fact, I know his family super well. Like his character, Spencer Reid, he grew up in Vegas like me, and his family went to the same church my family did. Whoa. While I've only ever seen him once or twice when I I was young, my older sister, I shit you not, went on a few dates with his younger brother. And now that I'm older and have literally binge watched Criminal Minds multiple times, I'm really pissed my dumb ass sister didn't marry his brother, so I could have been related to him. Boo, that whore. Also, his sister-in-law and his mom were frequently in charge of watching the children in church. So when I was young, I got to know them really well.

Isn't that such a fun fact? That's really interesting.

Yeah.

I love him.

So on to my crazy-ass story. You know how when you first go to college, one typically rooms in the freshman dorms and you have no idea who your roommates are going to be, if they're going to be psychos or try to strangle you in your sleep. Yeah, my 18-year-old self was hella worried about that because I had just found out my best friend since fourth damn grade who had planned with me for years to go to the same school, just told me she wasn't going to go to college with me because that shit's expensive. I didn't blame her, but we were going to be roomies, and I was hella bummed that she wouldn't be with me. Also, terrified I was going to have a crazy ass roommate who dealt drugs out the apartment or something. It's a fair concern. Which you don't know what you're walking into.

Yeah, that's a lot.

So it's a legit concern of who you're going to be living with. That's overwhelming. It's a stranger. Well, it turns out I had nothing to worry about. All my roommates were wonderful, and we became best friends forever. The end. Ha ha. Just kidding. That first year, I actually did luck out and had great roommates, except for that one dumb ass shithead who has never had to be literally and do anything for herself ever and couldn't figure out how to do the most basic adult things, like how microwaves work or how to melt butter. Like, no joke. She almost blew up the apartment putting an entire ass metal pan in the microwave and pressing start. That's all in parentheses. I love that.

I hope you're not listening, but my little sister at like, I think.

I hope you're listening.

I think she had to be like 12, 13, maybe 14, and put metal into the microwave. And we all were like, Are you fucking kidding? Wow. Is this a joke?

Are you all right?

She was like, I didn't know.

The answer is nor. Nor.

Love you, Lou.

So other than her, they rocked. We had a good time, and the girl I shared a room with became really close to me. This is important to the rest of the story. The girl I roomed with, Mandy, wanted to live with me and another girl from our apartment, Anna, the following semester. We decided to move off campus and find a new place to live because that shit's also expensive. But Anna and Mandy found this place way far away from campus, which was fine for them because they had cars. But my fat ass didn't want to have to walk or bike that shit. So I found a different apartment closer to campus and moved there with a friend I'd met in school and moved in with four other roommates, six people total, one fridge. Who the hell thought that was a good idea?

That sounds horrible.

In the end, Anna had to back out of living with Mandy due to financial reasons, and Mandy was left with three new roommates who ended up being total shit stains who were awful to her and gave her crazy anxiety. I'm sorry. I know. She ended up basically living on my couch and becoming our seventh roommate. Holy shit. Okay, backstory over. Sorry. I'm long winded as fuck and don't know how to make things short and sweet. I am who I am. I am also Popeye. In this new apartment, we were a mix of one freshman, four sophomores, one senior, and a sophomore stray we let take over our living room, AKA, Mandy. I shared a room with my friend Casey, and the only other girl you need to know the name of is the senior Stephanie. She mostly kept to herself. She was an English major just trying to graduate. Although none of us were ever sure if she was actually attending her classes because we never saw that broad leave her room. Like ever. She was just always there. I don't know. Maybe she was some Hogwarts reject witch who had figured out how to apparate to and fro.

But this home never seemed to leave. But you also never knew if she was home. Her door was always closed. You could be home for hours and be pretty damn convinced you were the only one home. And then this bitch would just waltz out of her room, whistling some weird ass tune, rummage through the fridge, and then mozeon back inside, not to be heard from again until three days later.

Up until this point, great fucking roommate.

Sounds great. Ideal. Also, this hoe never washed her dishes. And that's where you lose me. And that's where you lose me. And one time I knocked on her door to invite her to come play games with us, and her room was hella disgusting. There was shit everywhere. And who knows, maybe a dead body buried under the mountain of dirty laundry. You'd never be able to tell. Eventually, we learned to leave Stephanie alone because she was always grumpy and weird as hell. For the first few weeks, this worked out fine. But one day, the other five and a half roommates and I, we always joked that Mandy was only a half roommate. We're just chilling in the living room, getting to know each other better and stuff, when we heard the most haunting ass moan just come out of her room.

What? That's it. Just the moan.

We all just looked at each other, not sure what. I just picture you all just laughing, joking with each other. You're just like, Oh, my God.

And everybody just stops and just stares in silence.

Then we heard it again. My dumb ass was just about to ask if we should go ask if she was okay when straight up shit hit the fan or the wall. Because this bitch was throwing books and shit against her goddamn wall and yelling like someone had just come in and stabbed her in the chesticles. We all froze in fear and straight up all love that you guys just dipped.

You're like, you know what? It sounds like she's going through it. She should have that alone time.

Sounds like she's dying. We should dip. We should dip the hell out of here. She says, Our Uber was there yesterday.

I mean, if she was already in a sketch, I'd be like, You know what? That's for you.

Things like this started happening on the reg. Her having a complete meltdown and throwing stuff happened at least once a week. And when she did emerge from her lair, she would often be mumbling to herself, and we would occasionally hear maniacal laughter coming from behind her closed door.

That'd be so scary.

I'm still not convinced that she wasn't possessed by Satan himself, although Satan probs would have been way more pleasant to hang out with than her. And let's be honest, we would have had way more fun if he was right. I love you. Now, remember our half-roommate, half-adopted Stray Mandy, who sleeps on the couch because of her no good waste of space dumb ass roommates. Well, she probably had the spookiest experience with good old Steph. So one night, I was in my room blissfully dreaming about Gerard Butler or some other dreamy ass man. Who knows what I was actually dreaming about, but he's dreamy as hell. And all of a sudden, Mandy comes bursting into my room, waking up Casey and I, locks the door, turns on the light, and is wider than my thighs after winter. She looks me dead in the eyes and said she was sleeping with me. Apparently, she had stayed up late, chilling on the couch and reading a book on her Kindle when she heard Stephanie's door open. She quickly turned her Kindle off and pretended to be asleep because no one wants to deal with Steph's crazy ass. She heard Stephanie walk into the kitchen slowly while quietly singing the creepiest ass lullaby.

I don't remember the exact words now, but it definitely had to do with death and demons. I don't think it was a real lullaby, but she sure as hell was singing it like one. She's like, It was about death and demons, so I don't think it was a real lullaby you would sing to your kids.

Who knows, to be honest? Lullibis are fucking weird.

Yeah. Once she reached the kitchen, Mandy cracked her eyes open and could see by the light of the moon that Stephanie had walked into the middle of the kitchen and then just stopped and stood there for five whole ass minutes.

Five minutes is a long time.

A long I shit you not, you guys just stood there like a psychopath staring into the void. Then she turned around and walked her spooky ass towards Mandy. She slowly... For some reason, I think calling people spooky is the funiest shit. When somebody's like, That person's spooky, I think it's so funny.

It makes me think of Katie Maloney from Mander Pumperals.

Me too, calling Joe Spooky.

It's just like such a- It's a read. It's a read. It is.

So she slowly crept towards her, came right up to the couch, and stared straight down at Mandy with her greasy ass hair hanging around her face like the grudge herself just dragged her nasty ass out of the TV to get her next victim. Mandy tried not to scream. She said she was pretty sure she stopped breathing. After a full ass, terror-inspiring minute, Stephanie looked at her terror-filled face and whispers, Trick or dream.

Can you fucking imagine?

There's an important thing here. It was mid-November.

I don't care if it was October, November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June, or July, August, or September. I would be. I don't know. I don't know about that. That's so scary. It's giving, Is Tamra home?

It absolutely is giving, Is Tamra home?

That was one of my best. I'd just like you to acknowledge that.

That was a good one. That was a good one. Then she laughed maniacally and sauntered back to her room. Just like, hello. Then she said, I shit you not. I cannot make this show. Mandy waited 15 whole seconds before sprinting like hell to our locking herself in and then spending the rest of the night crammed into my twin-size bed with me. And I don't blame her.

Me either.

She slept with me for the next week, but sharing a twid bed is literally the worst thing ever. And I toss and turned. So after a week of this, I told her that I loved her and would do almost anything for her. But I could not keep sharing that small ass bed. She's like, I would do anything for love, but I won't share my bed. But I won't share my bed. So we kicked her back to the living room couch, informed all the other roommates of this absolutely terrifying story, and decided that we would all be locking our doors from now on. So you're just leaving Mandy in the middle and locking all your doors. Yup. Damn. And that if Stephanie were to ever go batshit crazy, Mandy would just have to be the unfortunate human sacrifice that would appease the monster. #bestfriendsforeever. Bestfriendsforever.

This best friendship.

That's the story of my roommate from hell and how Mandy almost became a human sacrifice. I ended up moving out the next semester, and Mandy moved into my room. I don't know why the hell she still wanted to be there, but at least now she has a door she can lock. And I never had to deal with Stephanie, the crazy in a bag, grabbed my stun gun, and pieced right on out of there as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran into Dave as he was pulling up to the apartment. I jumped in the truck and just screamed at him, Gun it. Now, Mike might have just been trying to scare me in my vulnerable drug-induced state, or maybe he was being a douchebag, but it got my attention and I moved out and didn't look back.Holy shit.Thankfully, no one got murdered at that apartment, and I decided maybe the straight and narrow path was a better fit for me.Hey, just shook you right into that. I love it.Well, now is where it gets interesting. Fast forward and several years later, a husband and three kids later, I decided to look up some random people on the computer to pass the time. After all, I I had three kids and I needed a mind-numming activity. I went down a few rabbit holes, even looked up what Justin Bieber was up to these days.You know, as everybody does.Of course. I decided to try to find my old roommate, James, and see what happened to him. I did the usual FaceTime, I think Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, with no luck and then just googled him. Suddenly, there he was, an old picture of him looking like the sweetface surfer kid I knew back in the day, except wearing a prisoner's outfit. Yeah, he was in prison serving life. What? To my shock, I read the story of what happened after I moved out. In fact, only a few months after I moved out. Yeah, a few months. Holy shit. Just writing this brings chills down my spine. What the fuck? My old roommate James and a friend were working for a man doing odd jobs on his farm when they had the great idea that instead of working to earn the money, they could go ahead and rob the boss instead. One night with plans in place, they drove a few tons over to where the boss lived in a rundown motor home on a few acres. No one around for miles. Fresh air is for dead people. Loaded with a rifle, they climbed to a hill to stake out the place and hide and wait.Seeing another man on the property with the boss, James and his friend decided to wait it out. After a few hours of waiting and watching, they decided to go ahead and rob both men. They creeped on the hill like your worst nightmare coming true, robbed them and shot them both in the back of the head. My palms were sweating at this point as I realized this could just as well have been me laying on the floor with a gunshot to the back of my head. Apparently, James was caught after blabbing to an informant, went to trial and two consecutive life sentences for first-degree murder. I was stunned. As I think back, I'm always grateful that I listened to my friend, entrusted my instincts, and noped the hell out of that apartment while I was still breathing. Anyway, that's my story of a close call with death. Thanks for reading and stay weird, but not so weird that you end up in a shitty little apartment spending all your money on partying, eating pinto beans for a month, and living with a future double murderer. Holy shit. Isn't that insane?First of all, holy shit. Second of all, holy shit. Mike's a real one. Yeah. For pulling you in there and being like, get the fuck out of the apartment.Because at first I was like, what the fuck is this creep about to do?What's Mike going to do right now?Closing the door slowly and shit.But damn. Thankfully, Mike was on it. Yeah. And then for you being smart enough to not... Because we've heard so many stories of like, you're stupid. No. And it's like you being smart enough to just be like, you know what? I'm out of here. Not a chance in that. If we're sleeping with a stun gun before that. That's incredible. Good job. Smart. You're a smart gal.You really are, Tiffany.Tiffany, you're a smart gal.Tiffany, five ever.Five ever. Let's see. Should I close it out with the Ghost fan listener tale? You've got to. Because I'm not even sure if it's roommate related. But you guys are just adorable. And I was like, There's a picture of both of them. And I was like, got to read it. Oh. Got to read it.Got to read it.So it says, let's see. Dear lovely morbid ladies, my name is Niva, and feel free to use my name. I give no fucks. That's a pretty name. That is a really pretty name. I'm so excited to write in to you, Chix, because I'm a 41-year-old Goth kid who really enjoys the work you two do and I'm grateful to have found your podcast. Thank you. I'm in love with you. I was inspired to write in because I am a giant ghost fan. Seriously, I'm on concerts 9 and 10 this summer. I'm so jealous. That's wild. And have a ridiculous amount of ghost merch. On top of that, my husband and I have nameless gou rings from thegreatfrog. Com as wedding rings because suited us so much more than being boring twats. No offense to anyone who likes to be boring. That's amazing. Anyways, I've included a photo of them and us for your viewing pleasure. And apologize upfront if this is a bit lengthy.No, you guys are so cute.I'm obsessed with it. I'm obsessed with the rings. John and I were talking about it recently, actually. So I'll be on board with you here, that we were like, if we got married now, he was like, my, my.I'm like, it's going to be such a different vibe when you got married.It's going to be when we marry again. But he was like, I feel like you would want Tobias Forge as Papa to officiate our wedding. Yeah, I could see that. And I was like, yes.Yeah. Full gear. Yeah. Full gear. And like, black bridesmaids, dresses.It would be so much fun.Do you think you'd wear a block?I totally would now. Yeah. I think I was much more concerned with upsetting anyone back then.Well, it's hard when you have...Yeah, you have grandparents around that. You know what I'm saying? And stuff. And I was much more not comfortable with being a little... I don't know how to explain. Like disruptive back then.So I think I like... Now you've leaned full-fledged.But now also I'm very comfortable with being weird. I like it. So it would be a different situation now. But he was joking about that and he was like, imagine if you could just have Ghost be your house band.You should do like a 20-year... What is it called? Vow renewal.Yeah.Thank you.Yeah. That would be crazy. Do that. That'd be fun. You get one life. Why not? You get one life. Have another party.That's also my motto. It's a good motto, I think. You have one life. Have another party. Have another party.I love it. So I'm with you on that for sure, Niva. The tale I have to share is ghostly and fun, and I think back on the experience fondly. I grew up in San Diego, California, and after years of living in the part of San Diego no one gives a crap about, I was finally able to move into an apartment in the pre-gentrified area of San Diego called City Heights. It was a slightly run-down part of town, but close to the best cemetery. Small clubs the band I was in played at. You're in a band, too. That's cool. In all of my band friends. It was very common for apartment buildings in City Heights to be smaller 2-3 unit buildings with a main detached house in the rear, near an alley. My roommate and I lived the second floor unit off 36 in University, which had a delicious chicken and ribs place on one corner and a strip club called Club Fantasy on the other. That's awesome. I used the smaller of the two bedrooms in the apartment, and shortly after moving in, I began to notice some strange things happen. Near one of the living room windows, I would see balls of sparkling light that would get larger and larger, spin around, and then disappear.That was me. That was just me. This happened multiple times. My cat, Lexington, what an amazing name, would also be caught staring at the same window, wide-eyed and bewildered, so I can only imagine what he saw. Things only got more interesting with time. For For example, my bedroom window faced the alley where a bright light was always on and there was no balcony, walkway or anything on the second floor. It went straight down to the ground. My room was completely dark and the only light that was coming in was from said alley. I was sitting in my living room and had gotten this funny sense that I should look up. I obeyed. And what the fuck do I see? A solid black silhouette of a head and shoulders that looked like a young boy with a bull haircut. L-o-l. It literally says L-O-L. That moved across the window and then disappeared into the darkness. Like, what the fuck? That's horrifying. I sat there frozen and couldn't believe what the fuck I just saw. I told my roommate what happened, and she looked at me stunned, then said she wants to try to make contact with it to see if we can learn anything about anyone residing in the apartment with us.Now, don't judge me. We used a Ouija board. I'm not judging you.I'm not judging you.I know. I know. Always seems to be bullshit, right?Actually, no.I don't. Actually, no.Actually, no. Always seems to be downright terrifying and people end cursed for life.I don't normally care for them due to a bad childhood experience, but I said, Fuck it, and we busted it out. Within 10 to 20 minutes of starting to ask questions, the planchette started moving. Both my roommate and I fiercely promised we were not pushing it. I decided to ask, What is your name? It answered, Christopher. I then asked how old he was, and he answered, Thirteen. Finally, I asked, Are you the boy who I saw in my room? And it answered, Yes. Both me and my roommate released our fingers from the planchette and screamed because we both had no other reaction we were capable... There was no other reaction we were capable of. I politely said good night to Christopher and asked no further questions. Fantastic. To wrap up this bizarre hotel, I'll tell you my very last interaction with Christopher. I was in bed with the door shut, lights off, and the roomie had taken the cat into her room for the night. I'm the type that likes to leave a leg out of the bed under the blanket when I sleep. That's insane. Even if the chances of the monster under my bed grabbing me and sucking me into a dark abyss are high, they are.I like to live dangerously. You're a bad bitch. After I closed my eyes to enter dreamland, I felt something that shook me to my fucking core. Very softly, I felt something graze the back of my calf like someone had run their hand very gently across my skin.Christopher, that's a So creepy.Christopher. Consent, baby.Christopher, you're getting Cansy.My eyes immediately opened and faster than you can say, holy, shitty, titty balls. I pulled my leg under my blanket and curled into the fetal position. I was terrified. Shook was an understatement. I had never I've never experienced anything like this before. But after I calmed my tits, I took a deep breath and calmly said, Okay, I understand you're here, but I want to go to bed now, so you need to go. And I never saw, heard, or felt anything from Christopher again. Wow. I hope you two enjoyed this, and I want to say thank you for all the hard work and dedication you put in your podcast. So keep it weird, but not so weird you keep a leg out while trying to sleep, risking eternal darkness in the Abyss while a bowl cut having ghost scroops your leg. Spookily ours, Niva. Spookily hours.I love it.Basically ours, diva.Oh, my God.You guys are adorable. I'm obsessed with your rings.I'm obsessed with all of these listener tales. We need to do another installment of worst roommates.Yeah, these are fun. I love doing the theme ones.I love doing the subject line, Nightmare Roomates.Yeah, if you have any crazy ones.Exactly. And obviously, don't forget to go watch Worst Roomet Ever on Netflix. It premieres globally on June 26, 2024. This year, motherfuckers.And in our description for this episode, we'll have a link so you can go check and see what it's all about. Yeah.And for all you weirdos who listen early and ad free, you can catch up on the first season now, so that way you're ready when the new season drops. Hell, yeah. Worst remakes ever on Netflix. Do it. We hope you keep listening. Bye. No. We hope you.We hope you keep listening. And we hope you.She's not singing. Keep it. Weird. But not so weird that you have a crazy college experience of witchcraft and attempted murder because that one was absolutely insane. And I really hope Ella's doing better. Definitely so weird that you and your hubby got matching Ghost.What are they called? Wedding Rings. Wedding rings. Wedding rings.Nameless schools. Nameless schools. That's what I meant. Nameless school. Nameless school wedding rings. And definitely don't keep it so weird that a ghost with a bowl cut touches your leg because I think you might be cursed for life now. Do keep it so weird that you shit a myopic Spooky Dooky in the tub because that's fair enough. And keep it so weird that you wake people up in the middle of the night and whisper trick or treat to them, but never so weird that you are going to rob somebody, but do keep it so weird that you sleep with a stunt gun underneath your pillow.Okay, do it.Bye.Bye.See you. Peace out. Deuces. Arrivederci. Deuces. I don't know how to say bye in any other. Ciao. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining WNDYRI+ in the WNDYRI app or on Apple podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wndyri. Com/survey.

in a bag, grabbed my stun gun, and pieced right on out of there as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran into Dave as he was pulling up to the apartment. I jumped in the truck and just screamed at him, Gun it. Now, Mike might have just been trying to scare me in my vulnerable drug-induced state, or maybe he was being a douchebag, but it got my attention and I moved out and didn't look back.

Holy shit.

Thankfully, no one got murdered at that apartment, and I decided maybe the straight and narrow path was a better fit for me.

Hey, just shook you right into that. I love it.

Well, now is where it gets interesting. Fast forward and several years later, a husband and three kids later, I decided to look up some random people on the computer to pass the time. After all, I I had three kids and I needed a mind-numming activity. I went down a few rabbit holes, even looked up what Justin Bieber was up to these days.

You know, as everybody does.

Of course. I decided to try to find my old roommate, James, and see what happened to him. I did the usual FaceTime, I think Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, with no luck and then just googled him. Suddenly, there he was, an old picture of him looking like the sweetface surfer kid I knew back in the day, except wearing a prisoner's outfit. Yeah, he was in prison serving life. What? To my shock, I read the story of what happened after I moved out. In fact, only a few months after I moved out. Yeah, a few months. Holy shit. Just writing this brings chills down my spine. What the fuck? My old roommate James and a friend were working for a man doing odd jobs on his farm when they had the great idea that instead of working to earn the money, they could go ahead and rob the boss instead. One night with plans in place, they drove a few tons over to where the boss lived in a rundown motor home on a few acres. No one around for miles. Fresh air is for dead people. Loaded with a rifle, they climbed to a hill to stake out the place and hide and wait.

Seeing another man on the property with the boss, James and his friend decided to wait it out. After a few hours of waiting and watching, they decided to go ahead and rob both men. They creeped on the hill like your worst nightmare coming true, robbed them and shot them both in the back of the head. My palms were sweating at this point as I realized this could just as well have been me laying on the floor with a gunshot to the back of my head. Apparently, James was caught after blabbing to an informant, went to trial and two consecutive life sentences for first-degree murder. I was stunned. As I think back, I'm always grateful that I listened to my friend, entrusted my instincts, and noped the hell out of that apartment while I was still breathing. Anyway, that's my story of a close call with death. Thanks for reading and stay weird, but not so weird that you end up in a shitty little apartment spending all your money on partying, eating pinto beans for a month, and living with a future double murderer. Holy shit. Isn't that insane?

First of all, holy shit. Second of all, holy shit. Mike's a real one. Yeah. For pulling you in there and being like, get the fuck out of the apartment.

Because at first I was like, what the fuck is this creep about to do?

What's Mike going to do right now?

Closing the door slowly and shit.

But damn. Thankfully, Mike was on it. Yeah. And then for you being smart enough to not... Because we've heard so many stories of like, you're stupid. No. And it's like you being smart enough to just be like, you know what? I'm out of here. Not a chance in that. If we're sleeping with a stun gun before that. That's incredible. Good job. Smart. You're a smart gal.

You really are, Tiffany.

Tiffany, you're a smart gal.

Tiffany, five ever.

Five ever. Let's see. Should I close it out with the Ghost fan listener tale? You've got to. Because I'm not even sure if it's roommate related. But you guys are just adorable. And I was like, There's a picture of both of them. And I was like, got to read it. Oh. Got to read it.

Got to read it.

So it says, let's see. Dear lovely morbid ladies, my name is Niva, and feel free to use my name. I give no fucks. That's a pretty name. That is a really pretty name. I'm so excited to write in to you, Chix, because I'm a 41-year-old Goth kid who really enjoys the work you two do and I'm grateful to have found your podcast. Thank you. I'm in love with you. I was inspired to write in because I am a giant ghost fan. Seriously, I'm on concerts 9 and 10 this summer. I'm so jealous. That's wild. And have a ridiculous amount of ghost merch. On top of that, my husband and I have nameless gou rings from thegreatfrog. Com as wedding rings because suited us so much more than being boring twats. No offense to anyone who likes to be boring. That's amazing. Anyways, I've included a photo of them and us for your viewing pleasure. And apologize upfront if this is a bit lengthy.

No, you guys are so cute.

I'm obsessed with it. I'm obsessed with the rings. John and I were talking about it recently, actually. So I'll be on board with you here, that we were like, if we got married now, he was like, my, my.

I'm like, it's going to be such a different vibe when you got married.

It's going to be when we marry again. But he was like, I feel like you would want Tobias Forge as Papa to officiate our wedding. Yeah, I could see that. And I was like, yes.

Yeah. Full gear. Yeah. Full gear. And like, black bridesmaids, dresses.

It would be so much fun.

Do you think you'd wear a block?

I totally would now. Yeah. I think I was much more concerned with upsetting anyone back then.

Well, it's hard when you have...

Yeah, you have grandparents around that. You know what I'm saying? And stuff. And I was much more not comfortable with being a little... I don't know how to explain. Like disruptive back then.

So I think I like... Now you've leaned full-fledged.

But now also I'm very comfortable with being weird. I like it. So it would be a different situation now. But he was joking about that and he was like, imagine if you could just have Ghost be your house band.

You should do like a 20-year... What is it called? Vow renewal.

Yeah.

Thank you.

Yeah. That would be crazy. Do that. That'd be fun. You get one life. Why not? You get one life. Have another party.

That's also my motto. It's a good motto, I think. You have one life. Have another party. Have another party.

I love it. So I'm with you on that for sure, Niva. The tale I have to share is ghostly and fun, and I think back on the experience fondly. I grew up in San Diego, California, and after years of living in the part of San Diego no one gives a crap about, I was finally able to move into an apartment in the pre-gentrified area of San Diego called City Heights. It was a slightly run-down part of town, but close to the best cemetery. Small clubs the band I was in played at. You're in a band, too. That's cool. In all of my band friends. It was very common for apartment buildings in City Heights to be smaller 2-3 unit buildings with a main detached house in the rear, near an alley. My roommate and I lived the second floor unit off 36 in University, which had a delicious chicken and ribs place on one corner and a strip club called Club Fantasy on the other. That's awesome. I used the smaller of the two bedrooms in the apartment, and shortly after moving in, I began to notice some strange things happen. Near one of the living room windows, I would see balls of sparkling light that would get larger and larger, spin around, and then disappear.

That was me. That was just me. This happened multiple times. My cat, Lexington, what an amazing name, would also be caught staring at the same window, wide-eyed and bewildered, so I can only imagine what he saw. Things only got more interesting with time. For For example, my bedroom window faced the alley where a bright light was always on and there was no balcony, walkway or anything on the second floor. It went straight down to the ground. My room was completely dark and the only light that was coming in was from said alley. I was sitting in my living room and had gotten this funny sense that I should look up. I obeyed. And what the fuck do I see? A solid black silhouette of a head and shoulders that looked like a young boy with a bull haircut. L-o-l. It literally says L-O-L. That moved across the window and then disappeared into the darkness. Like, what the fuck? That's horrifying. I sat there frozen and couldn't believe what the fuck I just saw. I told my roommate what happened, and she looked at me stunned, then said she wants to try to make contact with it to see if we can learn anything about anyone residing in the apartment with us.

Now, don't judge me. We used a Ouija board. I'm not judging you.

I'm not judging you.

I know. I know. Always seems to be bullshit, right?

Actually, no.

I don't. Actually, no.

Actually, no. Always seems to be downright terrifying and people end cursed for life.

I don't normally care for them due to a bad childhood experience, but I said, Fuck it, and we busted it out. Within 10 to 20 minutes of starting to ask questions, the planchette started moving. Both my roommate and I fiercely promised we were not pushing it. I decided to ask, What is your name? It answered, Christopher. I then asked how old he was, and he answered, Thirteen. Finally, I asked, Are you the boy who I saw in my room? And it answered, Yes. Both me and my roommate released our fingers from the planchette and screamed because we both had no other reaction we were capable... There was no other reaction we were capable of. I politely said good night to Christopher and asked no further questions. Fantastic. To wrap up this bizarre hotel, I'll tell you my very last interaction with Christopher. I was in bed with the door shut, lights off, and the roomie had taken the cat into her room for the night. I'm the type that likes to leave a leg out of the bed under the blanket when I sleep. That's insane. Even if the chances of the monster under my bed grabbing me and sucking me into a dark abyss are high, they are.

I like to live dangerously. You're a bad bitch. After I closed my eyes to enter dreamland, I felt something that shook me to my fucking core. Very softly, I felt something graze the back of my calf like someone had run their hand very gently across my skin.

Christopher, that's a So creepy.

Christopher. Consent, baby.

Christopher, you're getting Cansy.

My eyes immediately opened and faster than you can say, holy, shitty, titty balls. I pulled my leg under my blanket and curled into the fetal position. I was terrified. Shook was an understatement. I had never I've never experienced anything like this before. But after I calmed my tits, I took a deep breath and calmly said, Okay, I understand you're here, but I want to go to bed now, so you need to go. And I never saw, heard, or felt anything from Christopher again. Wow. I hope you two enjoyed this, and I want to say thank you for all the hard work and dedication you put in your podcast. So keep it weird, but not so weird you keep a leg out while trying to sleep, risking eternal darkness in the Abyss while a bowl cut having ghost scroops your leg. Spookily ours, Niva. Spookily hours.

I love it.

Basically ours, diva.

Oh, my God.

You guys are adorable. I'm obsessed with your rings.

I'm obsessed with all of these listener tales. We need to do another installment of worst roommates.

Yeah, these are fun. I love doing the theme ones.

I love doing the subject line, Nightmare Roomates.

Yeah, if you have any crazy ones.

Exactly. And obviously, don't forget to go watch Worst Roomet Ever on Netflix. It premieres globally on June 26, 2024. This year, motherfuckers.

And in our description for this episode, we'll have a link so you can go check and see what it's all about. Yeah.

And for all you weirdos who listen early and ad free, you can catch up on the first season now, so that way you're ready when the new season drops. Hell, yeah. Worst remakes ever on Netflix. Do it. We hope you keep listening. Bye. No. We hope you.

We hope you keep listening. And we hope you.

She's not singing. Keep it. Weird. But not so weird that you have a crazy college experience of witchcraft and attempted murder because that one was absolutely insane. And I really hope Ella's doing better. Definitely so weird that you and your hubby got matching Ghost.

What are they called? Wedding Rings. Wedding rings. Wedding rings.

Nameless schools. Nameless schools. That's what I meant. Nameless school. Nameless school wedding rings. And definitely don't keep it so weird that a ghost with a bowl cut touches your leg because I think you might be cursed for life now. Do keep it so weird that you shit a myopic Spooky Dooky in the tub because that's fair enough. And keep it so weird that you wake people up in the middle of the night and whisper trick or treat to them, but never so weird that you are going to rob somebody, but do keep it so weird that you sleep with a stunt gun underneath your pillow.

Okay, do it.

Bye.

Bye.

See you. Peace out. Deuces. Arrivederci. Deuces. I don't know how to say bye in any other. Ciao. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining WNDYRI+ in the WNDYRI app or on Apple podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wndyri. Com/survey.