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Being a serial killer is bad. Like really, really bad. One of the worst career options if you ask me. But you know what’s worse? Being an idiot serial killer.

And I mean honestly, the job of a serial killer requires a lot. A lot of brains. A lot of willpower. A hell of a lot of planning. So if you’re an aspiring serial killer, maybe try to figure out whether you’ve got enough of those first. Maybe they should have entrance exams for serial killers like they do for CA.

Because some of these serial killer stories just aren’t it.

Like there’s this one serial killer from the 2000s whose stint as a serial killer was going pretty well. Until a report was published about one of his victims, and this man decided to respond.

In the response, he said he would help the paper find his seventeenth victim’s body. And so this man included a map in the “anonymous” letter he sent to the newspaper.

The map was from Expedia.

The police reached out to Expedia and asked for the IP details of people who had accessed that map service.

Needless to say, our serial killer — Maury Travis — was caught.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Which brings me to the first rule of being a serial killer. If you’re successful in your career, never write to the police or the media.

That’s just dumb.

You are dumb.

Travis had to kill himself in jail to escape the consequences of his own actions. It’s like he wasn’t even trying.

Let’s take another example.

Henri Landru was a serial killer in the early 1900s. He would place ads in newspapers as a widower looking to marry a widow. He’d make rich widows fall in love with him and then take them to his country house.

He’d then kill them there.

So how did he get caught?

Classic rookie mistake.

When he took his victims to the country house, he only booked return tickets for himself.

In advance.

A CID-watching third grader knows better than this.

🤦🏻‍♀️

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if your murder plan is defeated by railway booking records, perhaps crime isn’t the field for you.

In more modern times, there was another serial killer — I can’t recall the name. He used to attack and kill prostitutes in the USA and then dump their bodies in ditches.

This usually involved his car.

One fateful day, he kidnapped a girl and put her in his trunk.

You know. The usual.

He drove off, but somewhere along the way his car got stuck in the mud.

To escape, he tried pushing it. When the car wouldn’t budge, he untied the girl and asked her to handle the wheel while he pushed from behind.

And as much as you want to accuse me of it, I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.

So naturally, when the car finally broke free, the girl drove off.

She reached a police station, reported the incident, and our serial killer was caught.

And honestly, what exactly did you think was going to happen?

The girl would’ve nicely gotten your car out of the mud, tied herself up again, and climbed back into the trunk?

Think, brother. Think.

There was another case where a man’s final victim was his coworker. Before meeting him, she left a note for her children saying she was going out with this man.

The man knew about the note.

He still chose to kill her.

Dumb fucking ass was caught, obviously.

They’re not even trying at this point.

If your victim has essentially filed a travel itinerary naming you as the last person she’ll be with, perhaps postpone the murder.

Maybe forever.

Like the BTK murderer.

Bro asked the police whether a floppy disk could be traced.

Seriously?

Like, you get what I mean?

Serial killing is not for the weak, the stupid, or frankly anyone with functioning career options.

But if you’re going in that direction regardless, please first obtain three letters of recommendation, an aptitude certificate, and at least one independent assessment confirming that you are not, in fact, a complete idiot.