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This threesome discovered that you can rent playtime supplies at The Party Shack at Loveless Motel. These gents have rented a plastic tarp to protect the newly installed carpet in Room 222. Sounds like they intend to get a bit messy, and those carpet cleaning fees at checkout are bound to do damage to your wallet, when you could protect yourself for a nominal fee.

Jack Leyendecker, talent scout for Loveless Motel's intern program, made a trip to Tuba City, Arizona on a tip he received from an old friend that there was a cluster of young men there who showed promise and he might be able to fill half his quota in one stop. These fellows were all enrolled at the local community college voc/tech school, all had been members of the same basket ball team in high school, and continued their gamesmanship in weekend get togethers at a local desert ranch under the guiding hand of the auto mechanic instructor there. The end of the term and their training completed, Jack conducted interviews and convinced eight of them to come to Loveless Motel as interns, with the opportunity to have practical experience in the Motor Pool, and learn a bit about the hospitality industry, to boot. Naturally the men congregated together, and even stayed in one small dorm in the Bunkhouse where they interacted with some of the guests, attended classes, but kept largely to themselves. Talk soon began among the other members of the class that the Arizona lads had some interesting, nay, weird fucking notions. Uncle Joe, Loveless Motel's chief classroom facilitator and disciplinarian, had encountered them hunched around a beach ball one afternoon during a class break, and learned they had never seen one before except in Annette Funicello movies, since they'd all grown up in the desert. Seemingly amazed by the sight of it, they rolled, poked and prodded the ball around the pool deck, and Joe opened the conversation with them as he approached the group by saying "Have you ever seen the movie "The Dictator", where Hitler bounces a beach ball Earth off his ass?" And from out of nowhere, one of the beach ball gazers says "The Earth ain't round - it's flat". The other guys laughed, and one chimed in "He's a nut job, don't mind him, Uncle Joe. We all know the earth ain't flat." and then out of the same mouth "same as we all know Ike was a commie, just like we learned in Automatic Transmission Class". Uncle Joe replied "Looks like the John Birch Society is alive and well in Tuba City!" to which the kid says "How'd you know?" Fuck fuck fuck. Joe thought to himself...and I have to take these guys camping. "Okay guys, let's get showered and then it's back to class."

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.

Look behind you! Reports are surfacing in the gossip mills across the Loveless Motel empire, amidst a rash of new missing jockstraps. Bunkhouse men just barely miss the guy in the act - a shadowy figure whose actions in silhouette suggest a heist in progress - a dick imprint and a fingered signature on the window of the steam room of The Tubs, a cryptic note left on a bench in the lockerroom there.....

Seen here relaxing in his Aluminum City quarters at Loveless Motel, Harry Biggerstaff takes solace amidst his antique porcelain collection and vents his frustration to us. "I feel like I'm in a very loose hole up to my nuts, and no way am I gonna get what I want", says he, "about this damned jock strap theft - where is the guy? I'm supposed to be this magical new Hotel Dick, and I'm coming up with bupkis! People don't steal jocks and sell them on the same property and then just walk away! Who is this guy?!" He's done many interviews; poked his business where some might say it didn't belong, and prodded what he thought were all the right spots, and just before he thought he might just hit it and be done, he had to pull out and try another lead. He'd gone cold. His new friend, Luke Atma Peterson, even assisted, and equally frustrated to a point of going down one bottomless hole after another, suggested Harry just lay lay off for a while and go have some fun while getting to know the Loveless property - so that's what he's doing. Anticipating Spring, we're finding him in the great outdoors, enjoying nature, seeking harmony with woodland creatures. Even so, he says he can still smell a ripe jock at 10 paces and he will get his man.

Manager Will U. Bonus "If you plan to shoplift, let us know" Hard Tack General Store at Loveless Motel tells us they have just received a good quantity of freshly laundered jock straps and denim jeans in several sizes. Hard Tack specializes in used cowboy, denim, uniform and leather gear, often left behind by guests, consigned, or purchased in the local town. Our work-release program offers gainful employment to those errant men who have been released from the Hoosegow where they've spent time for breaking the rules of our establishment, and some of the gents acquire a work ethic and personal polish which allows them to graduate into our Certified Hustler program. Stop by Hard Tack General Store for the best in personal service and merchandise selection. Manager Will U. Bonus is eager to personally see to each customer's needs, and guides the progress of his work-release charges with a firm hand.

In a surprise overnight freeze in normally temperate January at Loveless Motel, the pipes in the poorly insulated laundry room have burst, and one of the washers froze mid-cycle, loaded with jockstraps and denim. As a result, management is taking bids for the job in a one-day frenzy of interviews. May the best plumber win! As an aside, the collector whose jocks were frozen admits to a confidant that instead of his disco outfit, he mistakenly put his entire piss-and-cum-stained haul into the wash, thereby ruining the intrinsic value of the collection, rendering it worthless as sniff-bate material. He relates that he had spent days raiding the locker room of the Bunkhouse and had some prize specimens that were still damp from recently ejaculated spooge and drip. "But I look on the bright side," he said; "I'm here for another week, and as long as I don't get caught there's plenty more where they came from"

If you get home and realize that you missed your opportunity to stock up on great underwear at Packaged Goods!, our men's undergarment shop located off the lobby, never fear. Just write to Loveless Motel and include a 10 cent stamp, and we'll send out our latest mail-order catalog.

Forget to pack an item that's de rigueur at Loveless Motel? Not to worry - Packaged Goods, located off the lobby, has the matter in hand for all your intimate wardrobe needs. Stop in for a helpful fitting today.

Rock Blockhead has been the Construction Manager at Loveless Motel since 1989 and has recently lead the conversion process of the Loveless Truck Stop. He also is responsible for ensuring that men who fail to complete our intern program repay their debt for food and lodging by working it off prior to leaving the property. He can often be seen over at the Malamute Saloon on his day off, hobnobbing with Sheriff Buff N. McBuff, looking for subject matter for his documentary photography hobby, in the hopes of hobbing as many nobs as possible.

It's a busy morning, as usual, over at the locker room in the Bunkhouse at Loveless Motel. The question is, are these guys up early, or up late?

While you're staying with is at Loveless Motel, remember, you're on vacation. Sometimes breakfast isn't the priority, even if your already dressed.

Lots of banging going on right now at Loveless Motel. Construction crews have strict orders not to start work until 9am. You might see some of the guys wandering around before then, "looking for directions."

Somebody at the front desk at Loveless Motel told this stud that there's a guy down on the beach who is looking for someone to toss around...

Active men need support. Stop by Packaged Goods! for a personal fitting, located off the lobby at Loveless Motel. One of of our personable clerks will show you how...and how.

It's a bright sunny day here in Alexandria, Virginia. Enjoy! Jay

One voyeur, one exhibitionist. Jay

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