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What a way to start the week. Knee deep in the big muddy, we're looking for a rainbow at Loveless Motel. What ever happened to Kodachrome? Watch this space. Is this campy enough for you? Meanwhile, there's a report in the office that the coleslaw lady has gone on a binge and is hand delivering Tupperware containers full of her cabbage concoction in the rain after someone from Nutbush Campground mentioned they just couldn't get enough of the stuff. Needless to say, this is causing quite the stir among campers who thought they were living through a scene in "Some of My Best Friends Are", as in "who told my mother where I was this week?" Loveless Motel denies we have a woman working in the kitchen at Birdwhistle's Tearoom. Carry on camping.

Just hitting the shelves are 12 new titles at After Midnight Arcade, located off the lobby at Loveless Motel. It doesn't really open at midnight. You can go in there and drop quarters 24 hours a day, seven days a week, if you like. The spooge brigade is eager to clean up after you - those eager lads who have entered into the work release program after having been incarcerated in the Hoosegow for looking at a bartender cross-eyed, wearing a combination of a horizontally striped shirt with vertically striped pants, complaining about pubic hairs in the coleslaw at our restaurants - all of these types of infractions have lead to our ability to provide a spotless arcade environment for your prurient pleasure.* * We recognize that some of the infractions mentioned may seem a tad trivial, but when you consider the prospect of not having adequate help to do the menial tasks required by any business, signing a waiver exposing our lodgers to the slight risk of becoming conscripted is really a small matter compared to the possibility of wandering around in squalor while on vacation.

Loveless Motel guests were entertained last night in an impromptu surprise appearance by frequent guests working under the names of Smith and Smith at Footlight Fairies Cabaret, with a special cameo guest who appeared briefly on stage, to the shock and delight of the small crowd assembled that evening, unbeknownst to management ahead of time, and afterwards escorted quickly off the property and put in a cab. Women are not allowed at Loveless Motel in any capacity, though we secretly employ one woman in the kitchen whose specific task is to make coleslaw for all restaurants on the property. She's 78, nearly blind and very hard of hearing, goes commando and straddles the bucket as she mixes a batch of 30 pounds at a time, which we have asked her not to do, but everyone raves about the coleslaw so management has decided to leave well enough alone - hands off the coleslaw lady, per Nic. Anyway, our California guests ("Cary Grant and Randolph Scott got nothin' on us...") seek rest and solitude while sneaking away to our little Tryst Town, and Loveless guests know to the respect the privacy and anonymity of men they may recognize. After all, that's what gloryholes are for.