The Sassy Gazette

The Hayman Homicide: A Case Study in Retaliation, Power, and Outlaw Culture By Richie D. Mowrey | Dicking Around With Richie: A True Crime Feed 📍Incident Profile: The Execution in White Oak   When 33‑year‑old Kenneth Hayman hit the intersection of Jacks Run Road and Lincoln Way on October 12, 2025, he had no idea he was riding straight into a death sentence. This wasn’t a mugging. This wasn’t a random pop‑off by some kid with a stolen Glock. This was a surgical execution in broad daylight the kind of operation you only see when an outlaw motorcycle club decides it’s time to send a message written in gunpowder and blood. At 2:18 p.m., Allegheny County dispatch took the call. Shots fired. High‑traffic intersection. A man down near a Wendy’s. First responders arrived to find Hayman still clinging to life beside his bike. By the time he hit the hospital, the fight was over. Someone wanted him gone and they brought enough firepower to make damn sure he wasn’t getting up again. ...

🩸 RICHARD BENJAMIN SPECK BORN TO RAISE HELL By Richie D. Mowrey | The Sassy Gazette’s Dicking Around With Richie A True Crime Feed INTRODUCTION THE NIGHT CHICAGO STOPPED BREATHING Before America knew the names Bundy or Dahmer, it was Richard Benjamin Speck who taught the country what real terror looked like. On July 13–14, 1966, eight young student nurses walked into the night as daughters, sisters, dreamers and never walked out again. Speck didn’t just murder. He invaded, corralled, and consumed the lives inside a quiet South Chicago townhouse, turning a home into a morgue and a nation into spectators. It was the kind of crime that rips a seam in the culture. A crime that forces judges to redraw boundaries, law enforcement to reckon with their blind spots, and prisons to confront the rot growing behind their own walls. Speck was not a mystery. He was a slow-burning disaster decades of trauma, rage, addiction, and cruelty simmering beneath a spiraling life that eventually ...

🩸 Blood in the Quiet: The Taima Family Murders By RICHIE D MOWREY for The Sassy Gazette’s Dicking Around With Richie A True Crime Feed Because sometimes, the front lines of war end at your picket fence. Listen up, Little Dickies this one doesn’t start with a scream in the night or a body in the woods. It starts with silence. The kind of silence that creeps behind lace curtains in the suburbs and curls itself around the dinner table like smoke. In May 1999, three members of the Taima family were found executed in their McLean, Virginia home no struggle, no forced entry, no one talking. The wife. The son. And Fuad Taima, a man whose business cards may as well have come with a foreign affairs warning label. What followed wasn’t just a murder investigation it was a geopolitical ghost story, and it’s still haunting the FBI’s cold case drawer. Buckle up, because this isn’t just murder in a quiet neighborhood. This is international silence, sealed with a bullet. A Collision Disguised as ...

🩸 Blood & Barrels: The Pike County Massacre A Deep Dive Into One Family’s Plot to Erase Another ✍️ Author: Richie D. Mowrey for Dicking Around With Richie | The Sassy Gazette 🧵  Anatomy of a Bloodline Wiped Out The Pike County Massacre wasn’t a crime of passion. It wasn’t random. It was a blueprint soaked in gasoline  lit by a family who thought they could rewrite fate with silencers and shared lies. On the night of April 21, 2016 , eight members of the Rhoden family  across four homes, three generations were methodically executed while they slept . The masterminds? Their neighbors. Their former friends. The Wagner family , who turned a custody battle into a scorched-earth campaign of annihilation. They didn’t want custody they wanted ownership . And when Hanna Rhoden refused to give it , they buried her, and everyone who might defend her . What followed was Ohio’s largest and most complex murder investigation  not just a test of forensic science,...

HEAVIER THAN HEAVEN: The Last Week of Kurt Cobain By RICHIE D. MOWREY for The Sassy Gazette’s Dicking Around With Richie A True Crime Feed Some deaths bruise the world. They do not come with fingerprints. They come with exhaustion. Because sometimes the killer isn’t a person it’s a pattern. A slow erosion of light. A weight too heavy to hold for one more day. Kurt Cobain didn’t leave suddenly. He left slowly piece by piece and we were too busy watching the show to notice the exit.  THE COLLAPSE By March 1994, Kurt was no longer just struggling he was in crisis . The stomach pain was unbearable. The heroin, a temporary hush. The fame, a cage wrapped in applause. The Rome overdose on March 4 wasn’t a rockstar mishap. It was his first suicide attempt. He told us plainly: “I don’t want to be here anymore.” But we heard it like it was a lyric. Not a lifeline. THE LAST 48 HOURS April 3–5. No press. No cameras. No Courtney. Just Kurt, the house on Lake Washington, the ...

The House That Watched Back By RICHIE D. MOWREY for The Sassy Gazette Truth in stilettos. Fear in the mailbox. Imagine closing on your dream home the one you swore you’d grow old in, the one your kids already picked out bedrooms for  and then the letters start showing up. Not love notes. Not welcome-to-the-neighborhood cards. No. Threats. Typed. Cold. Watching. Words that crawl under your skin and whisper, “I see you… I see your children… I’m waiting.” And just like that, the house you prayed for becomes the house you can’t set foot in. You never move in. You never get to live that dream. The home wins. The Watcher wins. And all you’re left with is fear and a mailbox you’ll never open the same way again. 657 Boulevard at night where the house might have been watching back. The Letter It began with a plain envelope. Handwritten. Addressed to “The New Owner.” Inside was a typed letter that felt less like a welcome... and more like a warning. A threat...

🕯️ Boxed In by Monsters: How Colleen Stan Survived the Hookers’ House of Hell By RICHIE D. MOWREY for The Sassy Gazette’s Dicking Around With Richie A True Crime Feed This post wasn’t supposed to be about Colleen Stan. Not at first. I walked into this research ready to drag Cameron Hooker’s name across the concrete until sparks flew. The man is a sadistic architect who didn’t just build a box he built a tomb for a living woman and called it love. But the more I read, the more I listened, the more I felt the story began to shift. The crimes didn’t stay loud the survivor did. Colleen’s story didn’t just step forward; it shoved every other piece of this case aside and said: Tell mine. Completely. Because when you truly understand what it means to live in a coffin under your captor’s marital bed when you feel the silence she was forced to swallow, the darkness she had to call home, the terror she learned to breathe through you don’t walk away unchanged. You don’t center the monst...