Page 29
PreyAllDay:
So there’s no murder this week? I like my true crime gruesome! Ruth better bring up the body count or I’m going back toGraphic DetailandLast Podcast on the Left!
BurntheBookBurnerz:
You’re mad that no one was murdered? That’s twisted.
PreyAllDay:
GTFO, we’re all here for the same thing.
ShockAndBlah:
I dunno, I like my true crime funny.
StopDropAndTroll:
KK, we’ll go find u some more funny murders then. That’s more fucked up than liking the gross stuff btw.
ShockAndBlah:
So where’s this son of Daphne’s? We know who the daughters are, but where’s the son? We don’t know his last name so we can’t google him.
BurntheBookBurnerz:
Itisstrange that the media has been discussing the twins so much but not him.
CapoteParty:
He’s probably dead then.
ShockAndBlah:
But she does seem to really love her son. Is that. . . crazy? Can you be a good parent and a serial killer?
PreyAllDay:
BTK’s daughter said he was a good dad.
StopDropAndTroll:
Nah, I bet she’s lying.
BurntheBookBurnerz:
Do you just think every woman is lying? Wtf is wrong with you?!?
StopDropAndTroll:
Haven’t been wrong yet.
Harper called me on the phone. It was 3:30 p.m. so she must have just gotten home from school. I could tell by her hushed, breathless voice that she was phoning me covertly, likely from her bedroom closet.
“Hi, Grandma,” she said. I had tried desperately to get the grandchildren to call me something more glamorous, like GiGi or DeeDee, but Diane and Rose had been insistent that I be called Grandma. I suspected they were signaling that I was old now and no longer desirable, shunted off to the kitchen with a baking tray full of cookies. They were always jealous of the attention I got, particularly from men.
“How nice of you to call,” I said. “What’s new?” We didn’t talk that often on the phone; we were always better in person, where we’d talk for a few minutes and then pick up true crime books and start reading together. She seemed to appreciate the silence, after a lifetime of her mother signing her up for horseback riding lessons and demanding she go on playdates with children who hated her.
“I wanted to tell you that everyone online is talking about your podcast and well, about you!”
So there’s no murder this week? I like my true crime gruesome! Ruth better bring up the body count or I’m going back toGraphic DetailandLast Podcast on the Left!
BurntheBookBurnerz:
You’re mad that no one was murdered? That’s twisted.
PreyAllDay:
GTFO, we’re all here for the same thing.
ShockAndBlah:
I dunno, I like my true crime funny.
StopDropAndTroll:
KK, we’ll go find u some more funny murders then. That’s more fucked up than liking the gross stuff btw.
ShockAndBlah:
So where’s this son of Daphne’s? We know who the daughters are, but where’s the son? We don’t know his last name so we can’t google him.
BurntheBookBurnerz:
Itisstrange that the media has been discussing the twins so much but not him.
CapoteParty:
He’s probably dead then.
ShockAndBlah:
But she does seem to really love her son. Is that. . . crazy? Can you be a good parent and a serial killer?
PreyAllDay:
BTK’s daughter said he was a good dad.
StopDropAndTroll:
Nah, I bet she’s lying.
BurntheBookBurnerz:
Do you just think every woman is lying? Wtf is wrong with you?!?
StopDropAndTroll:
Haven’t been wrong yet.
Harper called me on the phone. It was 3:30 p.m. so she must have just gotten home from school. I could tell by her hushed, breathless voice that she was phoning me covertly, likely from her bedroom closet.
“Hi, Grandma,” she said. I had tried desperately to get the grandchildren to call me something more glamorous, like GiGi or DeeDee, but Diane and Rose had been insistent that I be called Grandma. I suspected they were signaling that I was old now and no longer desirable, shunted off to the kitchen with a baking tray full of cookies. They were always jealous of the attention I got, particularly from men.
“How nice of you to call,” I said. “What’s new?” We didn’t talk that often on the phone; we were always better in person, where we’d talk for a few minutes and then pick up true crime books and start reading together. She seemed to appreciate the silence, after a lifetime of her mother signing her up for horseback riding lessons and demanding she go on playdates with children who hated her.
“I wanted to tell you that everyone online is talking about your podcast and well, about you!”
Table of Contents
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