Thursday, January 21, 2010

Holiday Inn Wants This Guy To Warm Your Bed For You


International hotel chain Holiday Inn is offering a trial human bed-warming service at three hotels in Britain this month.

If requested, a willing staff-member at two of the chain's London hotels and one in the northern English city of Manchester will dress in an all-in-one fleece sleeper suit before slipping between the sheets.

"The new Holiday Inn bed warmers service is a bit like having a giant hot water bottle in your bed," Holiday Inn spokeswoman Jane Bednall said in an emailed statement to Reuters. Holiday Inn said the warmer would be fully dressed and leave the bed before the guest occupied it. They could not confirm if the warmer would shower first, but said hair would be covered.

She could not explain why the beds were not being warmed by hot water bottles or electric-blankets, but admitted the human method was quirky. (story courtesy of Reuters)



Quirky? Try downright fucking creepy as shit. Just thinking about all the mites and bugs and shit that live in your bedsheets is bad enough; now you have to worry about what kind of person is going to be rolling around in your bed doing God knows what before you hop in.

Jane Bednall can cut the shit with this "giant hot water bottle in your bed" nonsense. The last time I checked, I wouldn't have to worry about giant hot water bottles teabagging my pillowcases or dropping ass in that fleece sleeper suit and leaving me a nice Dutch Oven to climb into. Where is it even stated that the bed warmer is guaranteed to keep the fleece thing and their clothes on while they're warming my bed? How am I supposed to be sure that this bed warmer isn't a freak who's just going to strip down to his or her bareass and furiously masturbate all over my bed before I get in? Call me crazy, but images of that running through my head as I'm snuggling down to sleep after a long day at work on a business trip isn't exactly going to put me in the right frame of mind for a relaxing sleep.

And not for nothing, Jane, but how the fuck can you not confirm if the bed warmer was going to shower before climbing into a bed to warm it? Are you fucking kidding me??? Before the chick at the front desk even asks me if I want the optional human bed-warming service, I better see written and visual proof that the bed warmer has showered, shaved, been dipped in a flea bath, and had that fleece suit steam washed. It's bad enough you're offering people the chance to have a complete stranger roll around in their bed before they get in it, now you're opening the door to possible exchange of diseases between the warmer and warmee? Lots of holes in this process if you ask me.

And what's all this shit about not being able to explain why you aren't already using hot water bottles or heating blankets like the rest of the 21st-century civilized world? Those are pretty simple, relatively inexpensive options for warming up a bed that have worked perfectly fine so far. Is the Holiday Inn trying to bring all the closet sex freaks and creepshows out of the woodwork to sign up for this job?

Basically what I'm gathering from this story is that Holiday Inn just wants the opportunity to be sued up the ass after some couple complains about finding pubes or a hot dump in their bed after Johnny Sex Pervert warmed it up for them. There's no way for them to guarantee the cleanliness of their warmers or that their warmers will remain fully clothed throughout the process. I could sign up for the option, sprinkle a few of my own ball hairs in the bed, complain the next morning, and be banging hot bitches on my Yacht in the middle of the Caribbean within a week while I cover their naked bodies in singles that I got from my out-of-court settlement.

Come to think of it, maybe this isn't such a bad policy after all. Fuck my apartment; I'm staying at a Holiday Inn tonight!

"...and that... is simply horrifying..." (An excerpt by Garrett Radant)

"...it's that feeling you get just before you jump over the cliff's edge. That tremendous and eruptious lurching in your heart, your ribs ache and the beats of your heart slam against your sternum. Your knees grow weak and the mind is consumed to a soft pudding of emotion behind which are only rose tinted thoughts, dreams and a skewed vision of reality, wrong in almost everyway, but right because you made it so in your blinded eyes...some would call it love...I call it a complete loss of yourself, everything you are, everything you want to be is now potentially compromised and it might all be for nothing, after all, nothing is pure, nothing is JUST out of innocence, every punch is meant to hurt and every comment is meant to earn a reaction, even if the reaction is nothing, that is perceived and used. This love, this all consuming, disastrous being, this monster, this zombie creator that is love...is simply horrifying...
I am tired of the abusers of love…for love is abusive enough, it forces you to fall, for you do not rise up into love, you do not climb to that level with someone, you dig your grave with them, for only by death do you part. I loathe the men who dream of cheating, I hate the comments about how they love their significants and yet, complain and wonder about other options. I despise the women who enthrall themselves to the men made of lies. I mock the girl who walks from the one who matters, not for someone else, but for herself, one should never cave to love as if it necessary for survival, but nor shall you stumble away from it out of selfishness. ..because when she realizes that she is alone…that will be simply horrifying…
The deeper you dig your trench, trying to leave a mark on the impervious world, it becomes clearer, you cannot change anything in the grand scheme of things. For many, it is bothersome, it hurts them that they are insignificant, that they, the great ones, who are the worlds future, are not cared for because no one gives a damn, especially the world. For me? For me it is only comforting that I can effect people on a personal basis, I can kill, resurrect, punish or save, the world doesn’t mind, it might convict me, but it doesn’t care. At least I know that by not being able to change the world, I can’t screw it up too bad either. The leaders have no power and the blood spills only because we want tears to fall, nothing is all there is, and for what is, is not known, and what is known, is a lie, for under every fact, lies another, under those rests even more, eventually, we run out of knowledge and are left with nothing, everything we know, is based upon nothing, for even our own existence, our gods, and our hope for purpose, while believed in, is still unknown…and that… is simply horrifying…”

~Excerpt From “The Life of Alone: An Oral History of my Nineteenth Year” a completed biography by Garrett Radant

Just taking a swing here…this is from one of my books, my journal, precisely, which I decided, with very little editing, was complete and something to be proud of…So let me know if you like it, I will let you know when digital copies go on sale, if ever.…