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Nic the Senior Manager of Loveless Motel called a leadership meeting this week to talk about drumming up business in its entertainment category, since lately Footlight Fairies Cabaret has suffered poor attendance due to some issues remaining from the Cat Show debacle. It seems half the drag queens have allergies and the dander remaining especially from the long haired pussies has caused half the chorus and one headliner to be down for the count. Bobbie Frapples, the show's lead, bravely attempted to carry a show on her own recently, but reactively coughed up so much mucous during her first number that she ruined the sequin gown she was wearing; the stage had to be squeegeed, and then and dusted with a non-slip agent (a cannister of Comet ) for the show to continue, causing customers to complain that everything, including cocktails, tasted or smelled like bleach. Not to be deterred, Nic is determined to overcome the slump, and out of their conversations, leadership has come up with an event, and is pondering a Military Ball of sorts. Junior Manager Taylor from Dallas said it best, coughing, grinning and clutching his package, barely contained in his pleated khaki pants, rhetorically asking "Who doesn't like uniform balls?" A swelling contingent of lads from nearby Camp Betsy Ross is sure to be interested, Nic believes, and if timed well, the pageant could coincide with the annual gush of seamen shooting to arrive during Fleet Week. Nic has given the publicity team, under the direction of Callum Z Blabber, the green light to develop advertising for the event. Also on the meeting agenda was an update on the status of the class of interns from Tuba City, Arizona - the group who, though certainly checking the box of "hot" by any measure, turned out to be pretty dim otherwise, as evidenced by their lack of survival skills at Nutbush Campground. Jack Leyendecker, the talent and intern recruiter shouldered the blame, but Nic made light of the situation and complimented him on his overall performance, citing fate and anomaly as the true culprits. The decision had come down to terminating eight intern contracts, and placing them all into the hands of Will U. Bonus as conscriptees until their debt is paid, working off the expense of their training. Uncle Joe pointed out that because of their crazy conspiracy-laden ideas, it would be best to isolate them from guests and the rest of the staff, making sure they are all housed in one dorm at the bunkhouse, or in a trailer (Nic raised his eyebrows at the Aluminum City suggestion, referencing further loss of revenue if they were to take out of inventory a money maker like a trailer). They then settled on a cabin at the campground, and KP duty at the chuck wagon there to keep them occupied. The final solution for the clusterfuck of vapid young Arizona John Birchers will be to deliver them all sooner than later for basic training to the Army Recruiter in town, who along with half of the local draft board, happens to be a regular at the Tubs located in the Bunkhouse at Loveless Motel, and will be a key contact for drumming up interest at Camp Betsy Ross for the upcoming Military Ball.

"Callum, you're such a gossipy boy. Best of luck, Coach Warner", his gym teacher had written in his senior yearbook. Asked what the Z. stood for for recently, he laughed and said it was his father's little joke - it doesn't stand for anything, but Dad thought it made his name sound funny and would get attention. And so it did. It was certainly better than a boy named "Sue". Like the S in Harry S. Truman does. it adds gravitas, hopefully. Or it makes people laugh when the name is called from an attendance sheet on the first day of typing class. The name Callum Z. Blabber stuck and determined his personality and his career, or so he likes to think. Blabbing pays the bills. Or at least gets him a stipend and a free trailer in Aluminum City. And he meets men - all kinds of men, and they talk to him freely. He came to the job as a last resort, answering to an add in a copy of One magazine, "All-Male Resort Needs Typist", after he had been fired for being caught in town carving a glory hole in the men's room of a local department store next to the newspaper office where he was working, when he had had a rough day covering a flower show where he had been turned down trying to proposition a local florist because he smelled of bourbon and smoke. "I don't care if you're hung like a grandfather clock weight. I don't like rummies or smokers." Fair enough. Callum thought the guy had a nice ass, but a bit too-too la-tee-da, and smelled of cheap perfume - "Evening in Paris" to be precise, which he recognized as something his mother had worn. "Old Spice" would have been the only choice, in his book, even for a bottom. In his interview with Nic the Senior Manager of Loveless Motel, after being satisfied with his credentials, Nic asked if he had a boyfriend, and removing the cigarette from his mouth, Callum said that he had; He still carries the picture of the man which was a private joke between them, of Jimmy eating a banana when he came home from work for a quick midweek outing at the lake outside of town. Jimmy was a very agile circus side show contortionist who was gone half of the year, who died during a break at home in a freak accident when he tripped over Callum's typewriter which had been left on the floor of the basement rumpus room. He'd come down to turn off the TV which was announcing the end of the broadcast day, playing the national anthem, followed by the sound of the mono-tonal test pattern siren blaring up through the air vent in the bedroom which was so loud he came dashing down the stairs, annoyed, into the dimly lit room, cursing, tripped, knocked over a bottle of bourbon, and hit his head on the hard corner of the portable TV before he could even turn it off. Callum was passed out on the couch and slept through the entire ordeal, barely enduring the shock of discovery when he groggily came too as the first blast of strong sunlight shot through the little garden level basement window, and once accustomed to the light, Jimmy's limp body appeared in terrible, detailed focus. "Son of a bitch," Nic said, commiserating, his eyes downcast, his head bobbing from side to side as if he were witnessing some invisible tennis match on the floor between his widely spread legs, then lifting his head and smiling warmly at Callum blurted out "You're hired! - do you want a trailer?" All men come to Loveless single. "Fraternization and fucking with staff and guests is fine, but no lovey-dovey crap," Nic maintains. "Leave that for the guests." "Yes, I'll take the job, and the trailer, and please call me Cal." Cal's a bit more careful these days - he's laid off the sauce but can't kick the coffin nails. He fits right in with most of the staff in that respect - half his waking hours are spent with a lung dart between his lips and he's even discovered the joy of the candy cigarettes at Hit and Split, which he uses as breath mints, right before any interview. And he'll stop and nothing, and go absolutely anywhere, to get a good story to inform and remind guests, new and returning, about Loveless Motel. He's eager to hear and tell about the stories that come out of now-open Nutbush Campground.

Since the closure of the Laundry Room guests have expressed concern that they have been taken to the cleaners on two counts. The price of having laundry taken into town for dry-cleaning is exorbitant, and, they claim, the price of second hand clothing at Hard Tack General Store is being artificially jacked up to milk stranded vacationers out of money they would otherwise spend in the shops, bars and restaurants at Loveless Motel. In an effort to mitigate the situation, instead of being released from the Hoosegow into the custody of Hardtack Manager and Work Release coordinator Will U. Bonus, rule breakers will now do laundry duty in the abandoned early 20th century laundry building on the shores of Lake Loveless, where they will be supervised by interns, none of whom has been trained in the proper care of sequins, lame' or other disco apparel in general. This scheme was the brainchild of Uncle Joe, who has assured Nic the Senior Manager that guests will be asked to sign specific laundry-related waivers, and none of the interns will be used who were involved with the recent soft opening of Loveless Campground, except for being hung out to dry. The entire enterprise will be short-lived anyway, as the fate of the Laundry Room and the 8 Ball Bar has been decided by the Love-Whistle Inc. Board of Directors. As of next week, crews will begin demolition of the wall separating the two spaces. Combined, the new space will offer beer, billiards and a coin op laundry, and be rechristened "The Dirty Pool Bar"

The soft opening of Nutbush Campground is being conducted by the current class of interns of Loveless Motel Internship Program. Their graduation contingent on successfully completing a group challenge, they're tasked with venturing out onto the nearly complete Nutbush Campground and finding a tent site. They must scout out sites anywhere on the property, vast by any measure, and lay claim to the perfect spot. Several site styles have been constructed, including full hookup, partial hookup, and "rustic" sites which have absolutely no amenities, relying on a camper's skills to survive in the wild (or more likely what they will chose because it's all they can afford). Interns are scouting the "rustic" variety, hiking to a spot and pitching a tent, where-ever. These gents decided on the rock pictured above, agreeing, to a man, that it would provide a nice solid floor and drainage in the event of rain. Never fucking mind that you can't drive a stake into a rock.

Loveless Motel has retained the legal firm, Pounds, Butts, and Bates, LLC, to take action against Uranus Walls, Inc, ("Your solution for an interior that's out of this world"), for the unflattering job they did recently in the reception area of Nic the Senior Manager's new office expansion. Exhibit A, the documentary photograph taken by Shutter Bug Camera Shop photographer Snap Wadmacher of Nic's buddy Irving, who is supervising the landscaping job being completed for the registration area of Nutbush Campground, illustrates Nic's complaint. "It's obvious that whoever put this crap up was drunk. I didn't pay for remnants. Nothing matches, and it looks like it was installed with a welding torch. This all needs to be removed. We need to get someone in here who can demonstrate the meaning of well hung." Barristers Pounds and Butts have suggested a loose compensation arrangement, while Bates offers a completely different solution taking a firm hand and a good grip on the situation, milking it for all it's worth and as a result, Nic has said it he feels like he's getting jerked around and screwed, and says he won't stand for it. Irving just rolled his big brown eyes.

No need to be coy: it's Monday morning, and we're here to remind you what you did this weekend at Loveless Motel. Don't be surprised that you've been selected as Mr. Popular of the Weekend! As your prize, you'll be receiving 1. A Nutbush Big Bone dildo prior to its release to our guests - based on the Big Bone that was found during the excavations at soon to open Nutbush Campground

Game show host Garry Moore leans toward the man at his desk, his hand cupped over his ear, and says in the direction of the TV camera, "Dr. Long, what is your secret?" Just as he does so, the black and white image starts to tumble, and Nic, Loveless Motel's senior manager, gets up off the couch in his private quarters to adjust the vertical hold. "What a coincidence, gentlemen - I wonder if that Dr. Long is aa jockstrap thief too?" Giving up, he turns the set off. "I guess we'll never know. So what do you think about all this, John?" "So I'm a klepto! But I'm also a good doctor. - just ask Harry!" Harry nods in assent and says the doc has a way with using a rectal thermometer, and prescribing aspirin for just about everything including headaches, the runs, and mood swings. "I don't know whether the aspirin works 100 percent of the time, but he sure sells a shitload of pills in that little tin can dispensary" say Harry. "So here's what I propose. We tell no-one about this", Nic says. "I know a guy who can sell this mail order - once a month, Dr. Longjohn, you box up whatever you're finished sniffing and send it to my pal - he get's his cut, you get yours, and I get 50 percent of what he sends you. You stay employed and out of jail, and we continue to have our guests sign a waiver saying we're not responsible for lost articles, and direct them to Packaged Goods! to buy new jockstraps with a 10 percent off coupon. Everybody wins. That is, except you, Harry. This thing has fallen into your lap, so it's not like you solved some big shit. As far as everybody knows, this is a cold case, and you still need to prove yourself. Now lets play that game of poker. Get Psycho Randy in here...."

The mailroom boys reported breathlessly to Nic, the senior Manager, this morning, that they'd received a letter with photos from two former guests of a few years back. Tom and Buzz here met at Camp, where they were fellow lifeguards, and a more-than-hard crush developed. They agreed to meet during a college break, one thing led to another, and now they own a farm in the midwest! They also note that as soon as the greenlight is given, they'll be among the first to book and stay at Nutbush Campground, due to open at Loveless Motel in the late spring. Congratulations, Buzz and Tommy! They've also inquired about potentially participating in our Certified Hustler program as a couple after they get their crops in- a first at Loveless Motel, and Nic has temporarily okayed the idea, pending a panel interview and audition, along with the attendance of the Shutter Bug Camera Shop Camera crew headed by Snap Wadmacher, to record the event for the development of a new Calendar series.

It's raining - it's Monday. He had a little too much to drink and stayed up late - Who the fuck wants to work? Psycho Randy gets a call at the front desk from one of the Birdwhistle Tearoom waiters who says he's feeling poorly, and Randy knows better - its the same kid he saw peering through a gloryhole at him over at the Bunkhouse at 1AM this morning. Randy was just there to take a piss, and ignored the kid, but Birdwhistle Tearoom patrons aren't gonna ignore the fact that he's MIA , when they're told they're waiting on the waiter! Not on his watch! He pops his head into Nic's office saying he needs coverage and why, and Nic says "Go give the little fucker some motivation to get his ass to work!" Randy's gonna march right over to the kid's room and give him a piece of his mind, and a bit of ... motivation ... with the back of his hand, and "get his ass to work" before he even walks out of his room. Knock Knock - who's there? - The kid? "All's well that ends well" His plan to have a little Randy in morning worked well.

In honor of Chinese New Year, some of the units in Aluminum City have been upgraded with new red carpeting and a stunning Chinoiserie hand carved rosewood chair with dragon handles; a souvenir teal colored enameled floor ash tray will be offered as a gift to the first 20 lodgers to book the units. These same units have had their wall paneling re-lacquered in a durable lead-based formula and an exciting shade created specifically for Loveless Motel called "Monkey Jungle Taupe." In an alarming effort to offer an experience consistent with the theming of our little Aluminum City hutong, "Forbidden (Fruit) City", an "edict" from Nic, the senior manager will be handed to any qualifying lodgers via an unexpected knock on the unit door, dictating that men staying in these units must either have fully developed facial hair, or be clean shaven - nothing in-between, and therefore will have to have their nascent facial hair forcibly removed in a sudden visit from Dick Gee, our resident stylist and proprietor of Mr. Dick Gee's Hair and Now, located off the lobby. Tickets to these surprise pop-up events can be purchased by interested onlookers at the front desk 30 minutes prior to each "home invasion" with all ticket-holding participant-voyeurs being asked to play the part of "angry villagers"

On hearing the news that a selection had been made for the new House Detective position, Sheriff Buck N. McBuff, the Hoosegow jailhouse custodian at the Bunkhouse, let management know about his unhappiness, in no uncertain terms. In a confrontation with Senior Manager Nic, holding back tears, Buck exclaimed, "What about my application? Don't I even get feedback?? It shoulda been me! I've given months of my life to this company! I may only have four inches, but it's the best damned four inches in town!" and whipped out his cock right in the office! No stranger to cocks being whipped out in his office, Nic calmly explained that cock size wasn't the ONLY consideration in picking a candidate. He proceeded to comfort Buck in the way he does best, with plenty of good feedback and stuff, and it's all better now.

At Loveless Motel, the guy you eyed across the dancefloor last night is describing in detail how his morning is going. The party-line is hopping this morning, and there are even a few familiar voices. Nic, a senior manager, is also in on the fun. If your verbal skills are a bit rusty, or you're a bit of a novice, you can take Nic's class, held on any rainy Tuesday in the Grab-Basket Conference Room, entitled "Talking Dirty is My Second Most Favorite Anonymous Thing To Do"

The waterfall at the Tubs in the basement of The Bunkhouse has been temporarily shut off for a couple days to repair a leak in the grotto pool. Contractors have quickly assessed the damage and workers are taking as few breaks as possible to insure the feature is restored to full working capacity in time for the influx of guests expected in the last 2 weeks of the year. Only the most necessary activities of the crew are being sanctioned by the management. When Nic, Loveless Motel Senior manager called the contractor's office and told the secretary "We've gotta leak in our basement", she replied, "Go ahead, sir - it's your basement!" She's been replaced by a promising young intern sent over my Nic.

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.