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That box in the attic still has lots of photos that we've been rummaging through. This gent must have stayed at the hotel way back when what is now The Bunkhouse had been a secluded fishing camp on the lake known as "The Loveless Lodge". The lodge was generally unknown but by word of mouth, and was only available to book if you knew someone who knew someone. Townies seeking accommodations for visiting family members were virtually always told they were fully booked, and few had seen it. Most often booked by small groups of out of town of men arranging their stays by communicating to each other under fictitious names to private mailboxes, it only had a capacity of 40 with a total of 15 rooms with shared baths upstairs. The kitchen, dining room and gathering hall with a check in desk, a bar with a few tables and 2 sofa suites were on the main floor. Staff lived in the basement. Of the townies who had ever been to the property, one man simply disappeared, and some other men were employed as cook, handyman and "fishing guides"; all were single with no families. It all seemed to be "on the QT." Two cousins from Nottinghamshire in the East Midlands of England had immigrated, bought the land and built the lodge with hoarded cash after successfully entering the hospitality trade in New York City after their arrival on Ellis Island in June of 1914. The morning of their departure from the city, the day before Christmas, 1929, Edgar noted a local vaudevillian had declared that ex-stockbrokers were being declared the state bird. They exited via train, in answer to an advertisement in a countryside periodical and headed to the hills of another state. People said they looked remarkably alike. Their names were Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle, which place them solidly in a group of families whose British surnames seemed to have a visibly declining progeny, and these two were no exception. In town, quiet Edgar was overheard to say his wife died of dysentery in England, while it was said of strapping Sinjin that he wasn't the marrying kind. Seemingly popular with a few of the shop ladies whenever he came into the village for supplies, he was observed to have a high-pitched tone and a propensity to giggle at the end of nearly every other sentence, which put off all but a few of the men in town.

To be continued... There have always been secret groups, societies, meetings and affiliations of men. The origin of Loveless Lodge was rooted on the principle that a location should exist for a clientele which sought a place of guaranteed near-anonymity and discretion, as envisioned and fulfilled by founders Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle. At Loveless Motel, a certain group of Mauve Tavern regulars also count themselves as members of The Ten Commandments Club. Not advertised among the Tavern's general clientele, its associates do not generally congregate there as one might at a clubhouse, but generally clandestinely book a tin can in Aluminum City now that it is up and running but in prior years took a suite in town for the club's specific purposes, even while maintaining simultaneous bookings at Loveless Motel, in order to maintain the discreet nature of the club's business. Membership is generally held by The Mauve's more well-heeled professional clientele - young men are a rarity within its fellowship, given the life experiences necessary to meet its rules, which are more probably found in a well-seasoned gentlemen. Long conversations initiated by a member with an interesting looking prospect might start at a barstool in the tavern. Then with a predetermined signal given by one member to another nearby, indicating certain conditions have been met, a move to a more private table would occur, and the two would be joined by the accomplice. This method has been perfected over the years, and is adhered to by those participating in acquiring new members. A prospect has no way of knowing he is being interviewed or about to be hooked. By necessity, things will generally progress to a more horizontal approach elsewhere. It is quite amazing when one thinks about it, that any current prospect will come from the pool of select gentlemen who have already been subjected to the elimination round faced by all Mauve Tavern customers, who were able to successfully spell "Ferragamo." It's also true that, not by happenstance, each member is devastatingly good looking,(however subjective a judgement that might be) practically on the level of popular matinee idols. In fact, there have been two members who attained that level of fame, flirtatiously inviting personal upheaval; a fellow member not in that specific category of fame had even said in conversation while accompanying his idol to one of his premieres, while they were seated together in the dark, watching the actor's flickering performance as he dashed across the screen in an open shirt, the camera and lighting catching the beading sweat on his hirsute chest in his latest pirate epic, "My, but can you even imagine losing all of that?" The answer was a curt "That kind of talk can get a man killed" which earned a sniggering retort of "Maybe so, but you know it wouldn't count." It's numbers, by rule, are only increased by one annually , though some years no worthy postulant is found. There are those reunions during which several of its members convene at Loveless Motel though the norm is that a smaller number might be in attendance for an initiation. Group members must have broken each of the Ten Commandments. Members meet annually to initiate an inductee, by witnessing the last sin remaining on the man's list, in progress, the group then celebrating his accomplishment by indulging in acts of physical intimacy, generally recorded on film. This year, the candidate's remaining sin is theft. Coincidentally, no opportunity has arisen to witness a violation of the 6th commandment, a condition which has therefore been verifiably fulfilled by all club members, though in its meetings, the subject of the possibility of such an event has been debated, and not ruled out.

Traditionally the first snow after Groundhog Day at Loveless Motel, the Polar Bear Club meets for its annual celebration of freezing your ass off in Lake Loveless, because the pursuit of non-stop indiscriminate and anonymous sex just isn't enough for some vacationers at our discreet little paradise. Central to the yearly observance is "Pops" Vielengelt, its original organizer and an Oshkosh, Wisconsin delicatessen owner who remembers the days when Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle entertained at Loveless Lodge. Never without the company of a youthful companion, this year he's treating us to the visage of his twin "nephews" who'll escort him into the frigid lake waters. He says their names are Dan and Don, and whenever he forgets their names, he only needs to sing the bell sounds of Frère Jacques in French ("din, dan, don") to keep himself out of trouble, which also serves as a reminder to him that they are uncut, whenever that happens to come up in conversation. It's also traditional for Dr. John Long's phone to start ringing off the hook for the next several days as the foolishness of what our "Polar Bears" have done sinks into the heads of some of our more delicate little Pogies, Uranians, Margo Polos and Beach Bitches, necessitating a virtual gangbang of rectal thermometer use and pill-popping in the Doc's office. As if an all out free-for-all Bacchanalian romp after the antediluvian dip would make it all better..

You might well imagine that Loveless Motel doesn't celebrate Valentine's Day. Faithless Lodger! Of course we do! But we also recognize the difference between recreational sex, romance and love! So here's hoping you receive a bit of all of that whenever you need to, but if you stay with us, there's virtually no way that you wouldn't receive at least one out of three. So from our founders, Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle, to Booboo and Yogi, Happy Valentine's Day

Since our recent request for applications to fill an urgent need for a house detective, several interesting candidates have sent in resumes, and a recent trip up into the attic resulted in finding another shoebox full of old pictures including some of our founders, Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle, apparently dressed up for a party or fancy dress affair as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Our search is ongoing, but we share with you some of the more interesting photos we've received, including a few which have taken the moniker "Dick" quite literally, as well as some of those who've said they were less interested in the main job, but were interested in working "under the dick", which we take to mean as an intern. Or not

In the spirit of continually offering new experiences for our guests, and in keeping with our roots, going back to the hunting lodge first built by founders Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle, Loveless Motel announces commencement of the construction of Nutbush Campground at Loveless Motel. Crews are hard at work, and despite that perpetual priapic state, they are still getting a lot done, and with our temperate winter weather, we project an opening date of early spring. Located in the rustic area just beyond the back of Aluminum City, and roughly adjacent to the area of The Stables and the Silver Bullet Bar, the project will complete the vision of fun in the outdoors, including cabins, tent sites, and plenty of nature trails, as well as a camp store, communal showers and latrines.

The old trunk in the attic over at the Bunkhouse at Loveless Motel never disappoints. This must have been a favorite of Loveless Lodge founders and owners Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle. Anti-freeze must have meant something entirely different in the 1920s. "It's going to be a cold cold winter, but I'll never freeze when you're around"

One of our guests called and spoke to an Assistant Manager on a sensitive matter after receiving this postcard in the mail. On further investigation, it's been discovered that our Senior Manager, Nic, and front desk clerk Psycho Randy got drunk with "Snap" Wadmacher, the photographer at Shutterbug Camera Shop, and during a lull at 3am in the morning decided to take a picture of the Christmas Tree in the lobby and print 75 copies to be sent as Christmas Cards to many of our new and returning guests. The caller complained that his wife opened the card. Nic claims he had no idea that the post cards were made, and that he thought they were just doing the picture as a joke. The Loveless-Birdwhistle Corporation dba LoveWhistle Inc. Board of Directors have been notified and an ongoing investigation is ensuing.

These old reels were found in the trunk in the attic at Loveless Motel, and must have belonged to Edgar Loveless and Sinjin Birdwhistle, the cousins who built the original Loveless Lodge. This is private stuff, and must have been from their New York City days. Seems like role play isn't such a new thing. They must have been good pals with the cameraman.