This week on Haunted and Homicidal, we checked thoroughly — there are no goats at the Anchorage Hotel. None. Zero. Zilch. But you know what there is? Ghosts. So many ghosts.

We’re diving headfirst (and probably uninvited) into the haunted halls of the Anchorage Hotel, where spirits like to overstay their welcome and TVs apparently have a life of their own. Lauren recounts her very own haunted television experience — complete with unexplainable noises, flickering screens, and a level of anxiety you can’t get from any streaming service.

Then we hop on down (literally) to Ohio to meet the Loveland FrogMan — a local legend that is either a cryptid, a cursed biology experiment, or a frog with a flashlight who just wants attention. We don’t know, but we respect the hustle.

Somewhere in between, chaos ensues, tangents happen, and we probably insult an amphibian. Because that’s what we do best.

So grab your EMF reader, double-check for goats (just in case), and join us as we get spooky, sassy, and slightly slimy in another gloriously unhinged episode of Haunted and Homicidal.

This week on Haunted and Homicidal, we dive scalp-first into the wild world of medical “professionals” who really said, “Do no harm? Never heard of her.”

First up is Jolly Jane Toppan — a nurse described as “unattractively fat” (first of all, RUDE. The audacity. The Victorian era really had no chill). But behind that backhanded insult was a woman who loved two things: murder and making people almost die just so she could bring them back. You know… for funsies.

Then we move on to Charles Cullen, the nurse who decided that grilling in the shower was a good way to end it all. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. Because apparently, logic had already left the room (probably along with the carbon monoxide).

Meanwhile, Mischa makes her dramatic return with a symphony of barks because, once again, Lauren has a full house of chaos — family, friends, ghosts, probably Jane’s spirit lurking somewhere judging our life choices.

So grab a drink, lock your meds, and join us for an episode full of unhinged hospital horror, questionable life decisions, and the sweet sounds of Mischa’s background commentary.

Welcome back, you gloriously chaotic creeps, to another episode of Haunted and Homicidal — the only show where haunted plantations, cryptid gossip, and mild emotional damage come together over the promise of pizza for dinner.

This week, we’re heading deep into the swampy, ghost-infested heart of Louisiana to uncover The Myrtles Plantation, one of America’s most haunted homes — complete with mysterious murders, restless spirits, and way too many portraits that stare directly into your soul. Along the way, we detour (obviously) into Rougarou territory, because if there’s a half-wolf swamp cryptid roaming around, we’re absolutely going to talk about it.

But just when you think you’ve adjusted to the spooky vibes — BAM — we derail into the chaotic dumpster fire that was the MoMo Challenge, aka the internet’s “let’s terrify parents for clicks” era. Somehow, this spirals into Lauren’s entirely justified (and slightly unhinged) fear of Nutcrackers (“No one’s ever been bitten and turned into one, but you just KNOW they could”), and her deep hatred of mascots, who are basically just Nutcrackers with body odor and fur.

Meanwhile, Mischa makes her vocal debut — not ASMR this time, just dramatic sound effects from the background void — and Modi (Asmodeus) lives up to his demonic name by stealing bread, chicken, and possibly a soul or two.

Mid-episode, Lauren breaks into a solo baby crab dance party (don’t ask, just accept it), and we also go off with a heartfelt discussion about Buc-ee’s brisket being mid, the Key Lime Tart being exactly what it says it is, but the pickled green beans being elite. Also, Lauren confesses to her New Orleans party days where she may or may not have been found hugging a wall. (Relatable content, honestly.)

So grab a slice, light a candle, and prepare your spirit for chaos — because this episode is equal parts haunted history, cryptid chaos, and trauma from holiday decor.

🚨 Trigger Warning: this episode contains heinous crimes, frustrated ranting, and Lauren & Courtney losing the last of their sanity in real time.

This week we dive into the absolutely deranged mind of Albert DeSalvo, the so-called “Boston Strangler” — a man who somehow managed to convince the world (and maybe even himself?) that he was the one behind a string of brutal murders… while casually terrorizing women like it was his full-time hobby. We unravel his “confession,” his questionable memory, and the very uncozy feeling of realizing the real killer might still have been out there.

Then, because apparently we hate ourselves and want zero emotional stability, we follow that up with the Dana Ireland case — a heartbreaking story of a young woman brutally attacked in paradise, and a justice system that made so many wrong turns it could’ve used a GPS and still gotten lost. Expect chaos, rage, and us yelling “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S THE EVIDENCE?!” more times than any audio editor should have to handle.

There’s no Mischa ASMR this week (she knew better than to witness this level of spiraling), but there is plenty of existential screaming, sarcastic laughter, and the usual descent into madness you’ve come to know and love.

🩸 Buckle up, pour something strong, and join us for another emotionally unhinged trip through true crime hell.

Grab your EMF detectors, your rosaries, and your questionable life choices because this episode is a fever dream. Lauren and Courtney dive headfirst into the Lizzie Borden House—yes, that one—where good ol’ Lizzie allegedly played Fruit Ninja with her parents in Fall River, Massachusetts. We dramatically (and with zero rhythm) recite the infamous poem:

Lizzie Borden took an axe,

(We’re still unclear who was counting, but they deserve a medal.)

After a chaotic séance-level deep dive into Lizzie’s ghostly hangouts, we switch gears—and vibes—into the eerie world of Slender Man. We unpack the creepypasta that gave 2010s kids trust issues, discuss the terrifying Waukesha, Wisconsin stabbing, and try not to accidentally summon the faceless noodle man himself.

Somewhere mid-discussion, Lauren freezes mid-sentence because she feels a finger drag up her spine. Seconds later, Courtney feels it too—because why have normal recording sessions when you can be haunted in real time? Cue the collective panic and audio chaos.

Also, please enjoy Courtney’s ongoing battle with the word particularly. It’s her personal Mount Everest. Spoiler: she loses.

So light a candle, lock your doors, and press play, because this episode is 50% paranormal investigation, 50% chaotic energy, and 100% proof that ghosts have terrible timing.

🎙️ Listen now to “Haunted & Homicidal: The Lizzie Borden / Slender Man Episode” — where logic dies and our sanity follows shortly after.

This week on Haunted and Homicidal, your favorite chaotic duo dives headfirst into two horrifying tales that sound like they were made up during a fever dream but are, unfortunately, 100% real.

First up: The Black Doodler — the mysterious San Francisco serial killer who sketched his victims before murdering them. Because apparently, murder wasn’t enough — he had to add an arts-and-crafts twist. Lauren immediately questions whether he used a sketchpad or napkins from a diner, Courtney’s convinced she’s seen this plot in a bad Lifetime movie, and Mischa provides live ASMR as emotional support.

Then we yeet ourselves back in time to Austin, Texas, in the 1880s — where the Servant Girl Annihilator (yes, that’s the real name) went on a bloody spree that predates Jack the Ripper. Chaos, confusion, and corsets abound. Lauren’s trying to figure out why everyone back then was just fine living in a horror novel, Courtney’s on her fourth energy drink, and we both spiral into existential dread about how this case still isn’t solved.

This week’s special Halloween episode is brought to you by pure mischief, caffeine, and the unrelenting crunch of Mischa’s ASMR debut (yes, she starts the show AND demands booty scratches throughout — union rules or something).

Lauren and Courtney dive headfirst — and possibly headless — into The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, where they bravely mispronounce approximately 73% of the words (because let’s be honest, we can barely pronounce the ones we do know). Somewhere between “Ichabod Crane” and “is it pronounced ‘Van Tassel’ or ‘Van Tussle’?,” chaos reigns supreme.

Then we get witchy with The Origin of Halloween — Lauren’s favorite holiday and her entire year-round aesthetic. Expect history, hauntings, and maybe a few questionable attempts at Irish pronunciation (you’ve been warned).

And finally… to pumpkin, or not to pumpkin? That is the question. Do we embrace the basic-ass-bitch vibes or rebel against the PSL machine? Spoiler alert: both hosts are not that basic… but we’re definitely lighting a candle that smells like “Witch’s Breath & Regret.”

👻 Tune in for laughs, lore, and linguistic crimes — because nothing says Halloween like chaos in stereo.

It’s Halloween week, ghouls — and this episode is running purely on chaos, caffeine, and the haunting realization that no amount of energy drinks can fix a 6 a.m. photoshoot. Lauren and Courtney are barely functioning humans, Mischa is unhinged (and physically assaults Courtney mid-recording in her desperate quest for butt scratches), and we’re diving headfirst into two of the most Halloween-core cases ever: Ronald Clark O’Bryan, a.k.a. The Candy Man Killer, and Peter Fabiano, the poor soul taken out on Halloween night by one of the wildest murder plots ever.

Courtney’s rage toward Ronald Clark O’Bryan could melt the chocolate off your trick-or-treat stash (and honestly? valid). Lauren, meanwhile, has a very concerning search history that probably just triggered an FBI keyword alert. Somewhere between discussing cyanide Pixy Stix and cross-dressing hitmen in masks, things derail into full spooky season pandemonium — and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

So grab your candy, clutch your drink, and maybe don’t trust anyone offering you sweets this Halloween. 🎃

🦇 Because nothing says “Happy Halloween” like a murder fueled by sugar, spite, and sheer chaos.

This week, we take a delightfully unhinged trip to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum — where the admission criteria seem to have been written by Gaston LeGume himself. Because honestly, who needs a woman that reads books? Next thing you know, she’s thinking… and we can’t have that, now can we? Insert aggressive 1800s misogyny and fainting couch noises here.

But wait — it gets spookier. We’re diving deep into the Navajo legend of the Skin Walkers, not the watered-down, white-washed “Western movie villain” version, but the real shapeshifting nightmares from the old stories. And somehow, we still managed to tie this back to pop culture chaos: remember Sam and his brother from True Blood? Yeah, the ones turning into birds and dogs to dodge robbery charges. Add in Klaus Mikaelson (the second hottest brother, sorry not sorry — Elijah still reigns supreme) and that beautiful little detail that white ash kills both vampires and Skin Walkers. Coincidence? We think not.

And because no recording is complete without chaos, Muffin the cat makes his grand debut as a screaming background vocalist. He’s needy, he’s loud, and he’s absolutely certain the podcast cannot exist without his input.

Grab your sage, your headphones, and maybe a can of Fancy Feast for Muffin — it’s time to get Haunted and Homicidal.

Trigger Warning:

This episode was a ride to record—technical chaos, emotional exhaustion, and a level of frustration that could melt microphones. We vent (loudly) about the complete lack of urgency from law enforcement at the time, despite consistent patterns, known dumping grounds, and a clear MO that practically screamed “Hey, it’s the same damn guy!” The level of systemic failure in this case is nothing short of infuriating.

We then dive into Ridgway’s long-overdue arrest, confession, and sentencing, unpacking how this self-proclaimed “family man” evaded justice for decades while living a double life as one of the most prolific murderers in U.S. history. And make no mistake—we do not hold back. We say it plain and simple:

By the end of this episode, we’re left completely flabbergasted, emotionally drained, and overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the horror this man unleashed. It’s a tough one—but one that demands to be told, remembered, and felt.

Stay Spooky & Saged (and maybe pour yourself something strong for this one).