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"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.

It isn't every day that one of our Certified Hustlers at Loveless Motel has good luck twice on the same day. So Irving here says he walked into Dick Blunt's Smoke Shop and Lottery Tickets, bought a pack of reds and a couple scratch tickets and BAM, one of them produced a $75 winner! So it's his day off and he decides to catch a bus to town and BAM, a flush business-type townie needs to get fucked real bad. Lucky Irving, lucky townie! Fucking Marlboro Reds! Talk about a busman's holiday!

A popular time to do a load is the morning of departure from the resort. Once again, we've had to ask our patrons to not crowd around the laundry room door as a courtesy to those patrons in need of getting their load off their departure checklist. The 8 Ball Bar directly next to the Laundry Room behind the pool house, and across the street from the Bunkhouse at Loveless Motel is the place to hang in that area, and if the bar is too crowded, we remind you that there are several alternatives across the resort when the weather turns cooler. There are stiff penalties for ignoring this simple rule. Just ask someone who has spent a night in the Hoosegow for preventing a guest from taking care of his load.

Dick Blunt, tobacconist extraordinaire at Loveless Motel, shares with us some of his private photo collection including a rotogravure of his two "uncles", Mr. Thaddeus B. Packin, and Mr. Peter S. Tirring, standing outside their photography studio, who met years back in the steam room of a gentlemen's club at which they were both members, in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Dick says they broke him in pretty good, and eventually fronted him the money for his first business venture as an agent for male circus performers, such as sword swallowers, muscle men, contortionists and the occasional geek.

Like they say, if you're not quite sure whether or not you'll like the taste of something, you'll never know until you commit to putting it in your mouth. Loveless Motel is eager to satisfy all your tastes, and reliably fulfill your needs at Blunt Smoke Shop and Lottery Tickets.

These two fellows met 2 nights ago at the Bunkhouse, and are now inseparable. They're getting a room at Loveless Motel, enjoying even more services such as fresh designer linens,daily newspaper and evening turndown service. And as soon as we catch the guy who's stealing the towels, newspaper and chocolates, he's headed straight for the Hoosegow!

Need a quick smoke? Get your favorite brands in dispensing machines in each of our bars and near the ice machines on each floor. If you prefer a man to provide you with a cigarette, you can purchase a pack over the counter at Hit and Split, our 24 hour convenience store, located off the lobby at Loveless Motel.