Congratulations, Jim. You seem to know why Room 242 smelled like butt!

After careful consideration, the wife and I have picked a winner from the first JEFFPEARLMAN.COM contest. To refresh your memory, I offered a signed book (woo hoo!) to the person who could best tell me why Room 242 of the Boston Ramada smelled like butt. The winner (drumroll, please) …

… is Jim, who wrote:

They don’t wash the bedspreads and only change the sheets. Everything else stays put as thousands of elbows and assholes move through the room like organic bran through a public colon. Who opens the windows in a motel room? sure, when you are on vacation in Hawaii you open the window. but here, in America (Hawaii isn’t America!?), you leave the windows closed when you go to a motel. At least once a child was in your room. children are like bees – they do the needful mundane tasks that we could never automate. bees pollinate the flowers, children puke in impossible to reach places.

Once, while in India, a rat ran between my legs as i was going into my bathroom. it ran across the room and went under the drapes, never to be seen (by me) again. maybe it died of fright right there, began decaying in its own feces.

Jeff…the answer to your question is obvious. it is life immobile…stale, decrepit existence…the essence of the tail end of robust diversity. you are living in the world of the fungus.

Or it could be something else. what the hell do I know?

Jim, congrats. Drop me an e-mail @ with your address, and I’ll hook you up.

Thanks to the eight people who voted.