This page pulls no punches. Under "Jabs at Avatan's Bare Truths," you'll find detailed accounts of key figures whose actions—from rage-fueled outbursts and witch-hunt committees to paranoid selective outrage and outright fabrications—have turned what should be a relaxing retreat into a toxic environment for many.
Everything here is based on verifiable sources: public records, member testimonies, Avatan's published policies, and federal guidelines. No rumors, no fiction—just the bare facts that the club's PR glosses over.
If you're a current member, prospective visitor, or simply someone who values transparency in community organizations, read on. The "nude attitude" Avatan promotes might look good on paper, but the reality is burning through trust faster than a Minnesota summer.
It's probably time to take a closer look—and for some, time to jump ship.
Brad M* — the asterisked relic from 2024 Tan Tales, expiring term and all — finally showing his true colors when asked a few innocent questions about the background check committee process. You know, the one suspiciously run through the company he owns? Bold setup, Brad: Outsourcing club "safety" to your own business, pocketing fees while pretending it's all above board. But when someone dares probe the details — how it works, who sees the data, why the leaks and selective evictions — suddenly you're the victim of a grand "sabotage investigation" designed to make you "look dumb."
Paranoia much? You lost your temper so hard you took it out on a wall — because nothing screams "stable leadership" like raging at inanimate objects when the spotlight hits your shady committee ties. "Interference with the background check committee is a crime!" you bellowed, demanding prosecutions for... asking questions? Classic deflection: Turn the tables, cry foul, and ignore the real crimes — like privacy breaches where Nancy shares secrets with Don, or evicting "enemies" on fabricated charges while insiders like you stay untouchable.
Brad, if simple questions trigger a wall-punching meltdown, maybe you're already looking dumb without any sabotage. Your committee "process" isn't a fortress; it's a house of cards built on hypocrisy, favoritism, and your own business interests. Prosecute the askers? Nah — prosecute the paranoia that's driving members away faster than your temper flares.
The club's not being sabotaged, Brad. It's self-destructing under "leaders" like you who rage at scrutiny instead of fixing the mess. When the real investigations hit (IRS? Lawsuits from evicted folks?), that wall won't be the only thing cracking.
George H and Linda T — the Treasurer and President tag-team — sitting in on that internal affairs "interview" with the targeted offenders (the ones who volunteered on the Wi-Fi committee, mind you). Instead of digging into the actual fabricated charges, the privacy leaks, or the dismissed firearm violations, these two got laser-focused on the **real** crisis: a rumor floating around that porn was being blocked on the club Wi-Fi.
Yes, you read that right.
Members were whispering that content filtering was kicking in, and George and Linda treated it like breaking evidence of sabotage. "Porn is being blocked? Never mind that the rumor was just that — a rumor — with zero proof it was even happening, let alone tied to the "offenders." These two, supposedly investigating serious internal affairs, spent precious interview time grilling about Wi-Fi porn filters because... clubhouse gossip said so.
Meanwhile:
- Actual privacy rules were being shredded by Nancy H feeding hubby Don confidential background checks.
- A prohibited possessor was allegedly shopping for a firearm on grounds (federal felony territory).
- Fabricated "privacy violations" were being used to evict dissenters left and right.
But George and Linda? Their top priority was making sure nobody was getting blue-balled by the router. Because nothing threatens the "whole nude attitude" like a blocked porn site rumor. Forget due process, forget real safety risks — protect the bandwidth fantasies at all costs.
George, the guy who balances the books on visitor pennies, obsessing over hypothetical porn blocks. Linda, the eternal optimist who sees "lots of people by the pool," suddenly seeing a conspiracy in Wi-Fi logs. Together they turned an internal interview into a bizarre morality patrol over unproven internet naughtiness.
Pro tip: If your biggest worry during a witch hunt is whether the Wi-Fi is family-friendly enough, maybe the real blockage is in your priorities. When the lawsuits from those wrongfully evicted land, or the ATF starts asking about ignored gun sales, enjoy explaining how a porn-rumor rabbit hole was more urgent than facts.
The club's not just shrinking, folks — it's shrinking because the leadership is too busy chasing ghosts in the router to see the real threats staring them in the face.
Yoga Karen — the backup zen leader who steps in for Mary Ann's aqua classes like she's doing the club a favor — apparently has the world's most fragile ego wrapped in downward dog. When she drove by the "offenders" (you know, the members asking inconvenient questions about prohibited possessors and gun sales), they *glared* at her. Cue the dramatic board whining: "They were ogling me! I felt so victimized! We have to remove them for my safety!"
Ogling? Really, Karen? You turned a dirty look from a car window into a full-scale sexual harassment fantasy worthy of eviction. Never mind that the real issue was members raising legitimate red flags about a prohibited possessor trying to buy a firearm on club grounds (a federal felony). No, the pressing crisis was your hurt feelings over a glare. Because nothing threatens the "whole nude attitude" like someone not averting their eyes fast enough when you cruise by in your car.
And let's be real: "Oogling" implies someone found you irresistible enough to stare. Karen, sweetie — you're not exactly turning heads in a way that inspires lustful gazes. If anything, the "glare" was probably the universal "oh god, it's her again" face that half the club makes when the volunteer pleas get too desperate. But sure, spin that side-eye into a victim narrative strong enough to push for removals. You whined to the board like a yoga instructor whose savasana got interrupted, demanding the offenders get booted over your bruised ego while ignoring actual crimes bubbling under the surface.
Pro tip: Next time you feel "oogled," check a mirror first — or better yet, check why members are glaring instead of waving. It's not your looks; it's your willingness to weaponize petty grievances to protect the same board that's letting real dangers slide.
The club's not shrinking because of glares, Karen. It's shrinking because people like you turn minor annoyances into evictions while the big problems (gun violations, privacy leaks, revenue risks) get namaste'd away.
Karen K, the VP who turned "second-in-command" into "second to none in swallowing nonsense," took the fabricated prosecution playbook and cranked it to cartoon levels.
When an anonymous email popped up — signed off with the unmistakable flair of *Bugs Bunny* — Karen didn't blink. She swallowed the silly story whole, convinced it was proof positive that the "offenders" being targeted for eviction were masterminding some elaborate troll campaign from behind the fence. Instead of laughing it off or investigating the obvious forgery, she weaponized the cartoon signature to double down: "See? This is exactly why we have to evict them!" Because nothing screams credible threat like a Looney Tunes alias. Brilliant legal strategy, Karen — straight out of the Acme playbook.
But the hypocrisy gets even thicker. When actual serious concerns were raised — one of the evicted members worried about a prohibited possessor (someone legally barred from owning firearms) trying to buy a gun from another club member (a clear federal violation under 18 U.S.C. § 922) — Karen waved it away like it was yesterday's gossip. "Less serious than member privacy," she declared, prioritizing the club's sacred "privacy violations" fairy tale over literal gun-law felonies happening on the grounds.
Let that sink in: Karen K dismissed potential firearm trafficking red flags as minor compared to the "grave danger" posed by a fake Bugs Bunny email and made-up privacy slips. She helped ram through removals and evictions on laughable, fabricated grounds while shrugging off real criminal risks that could have brought federal heat down on the entire club.
Your priorities aren't protecting members, Karen — they're protecting the narrative. You'll vice-grip cartoon emails into eviction evidence but let actual illegal gun sales slide because they don't threaten the inner circle. When the ATF or a real prosecutor eventually knocks (because prohibited possessors buying firearms tends to attract attention), enjoy explaining how a Bugs Bunny forgery was a bigger crisis than federal gun violations.
The club's not just shrinking, Karen — it's becoming a Looney Tunes episode run by people who take Elmer Fudd seriously but ignore actual felonies.
Linda T, the ever-optimistic President who still drops "lots of people by the pool" like it's gospel — even when the only "lots" are the visitor fees keeping the lights on. You weren't just present for the fabricated prosecutions; you were the sunny face that gave them cover.
When the board needed to remove that troublesome board officer and evict the members asking too many questions, Linda stepped up with the perfect cover story: "The offenders were using hot tub gatherings to expose the prohibited possessor!" Because apparently, nothing says "grave safety threat" like naked folks in a hot tub casually pointing out that someone legally barred from owning firearms might be trying to buy one from another member (a federal felony under 18 U.S.C. § 922, mind you).
You spun that ridiculous tale like it was fact — claiming casual hot-tub chatter was some sinister plot to "expose" the prohibited possessor, rather than, you know, members legitimately concerned about illegal gun activity on club grounds. You helped weaponize that nonsense to justify the removals and evictions: Fabricated privacy/safety violations, selective outrage, and a hot-tub conspiracy theory straight out of a bad soap opera. All while waving away actual firearm-law red flags as "not as serious" as protecting the club's precious image.
Pro tip, Linda: If hot-tub gossip is your smoking gun for eviction, maybe start investigating why prohibited possessors feel comfortable shopping for guns at Avatan in the first place. But no — easier to purge the whistleblowers than address the real danger. Your "lots of people by the pool" cheerleading didn't build community; it papered over the purges you helped orchestrate.
When the wrongfully evicted sue for defamation or wrongful removal, and the ATF gets wind of ignored gun violations, enjoy explaining how your hot-tub fairy tale was worth more than federal law. The pool's not overflowing with people, Linda — it's overflowing with the hypocrisy you helped pour in.
George H, the club's penny-pinching Treasurer — always so vigilant about those dwindling dues and rising visitor fees that might tickle the IRS — but when it came to actual safety threats, your disinterest was as cold as a Minnesota winter dip.
Sitting on that internal affairs "investigation," you helped fabricate the prosecutions to remove the board officer and evict members on bogus "privacy violations," all while ignoring the elephant in the clubhouse: Reports of a prohibited possessor (legally barred from firearms) trying to score a gun from another member right on the grounds. A straight-up federal felony under 18 U.S.C. § 922, with real risks of ATF involvement or worse. But George? Yawn. You waved it off like it was a minor accounting error, showing zero interest in probing the gun violation that could have endangered everyone.
Instead, you fixated on Wi-Fi content filtering and porn-block rumors during the interview — because apparently, hypothetical internet naughtiness from the "offenders" (who volunteered on the Wi-Fi committee) was way more pressing than illegal firearm dealings bubbling under your nose. Priorities, George: You balanced the books but couldn't balance justice, dismissing gun concerns to protect the inner circle's selective outrage.
When the feds or lawsuits come knocking over those ignored violations, enjoy auditing your own disinterest. Your ledger's clean, but the club's safety? Shot to hell.
Board members unlucky enough to land on the "enemy list" — those pesky dissenters who dared question the gatekeeping, the decline, or the endless volunteer begging — got the full Avatan treatment: removed from the board, evicted from the grounds, and branded with trumped-up "privacy violations" as the official excuse. Fabricated stories, twisted facts, committee whispers — whatever it took to clear the threats and protect the status quo. The club loves a good "safety and privacy" purge when it suits them.
But Don H and Nancy H? Untouched. Still lurking, still influencing from the shadows.
Nancy, the timid board name who stays silent in public but leaks background check secrets to her hubby like it's pillow talk. Don, the unofficial background check participant and Wi-Fi "volunteer," getting fed confidential applicant info he has zero right to see — all against the club's own rules on privacy and committee confidentiality. They break the very privacy policies used to axe others, yet no eviction notice, no removal from influence, no consequences. Why? Because they're the insiders who do the dirty work: inventing reasons to evict enemies while shielding each other.
It's peak Avatan hypocrisy — "privacy violations" are a weapon against outsiders or threats, but when the H couple shares sensitive committee data (applicant backgrounds, criminal checks, personal details) in violation of every ethical guideline and likely club bylaws, crickets. No board vote to boot them, no Tan Tales announcement, just continued unofficial access and marital backchanneling.
The "enemy list" gets cleansed, but the real privacy violators stay cozy on the inside. Don gets the intel, Nancy supplies it — a perfect tag-team that protects their power while the club shrinks around them. Rules for thee (the enemies), but not for me (the insiders). When the IRS finally audits the revenue mess or a real privacy lawsuit drops from a rejected applicant who learns about the leaks, the H duo might finally feel the heat they've dished out so freely.
Until then, enjoy the double standard, Don and Nancy — your "privacy" enforcement is as selective as the club's membership these days. The bare truth is staring back: the biggest violations are coming from the couple that never gets evicted.
Oh Brad, the Avatan "Controller" who's all about running background checks through his own gig but turns a blind eye to potential illegal gun sales popping off on club property like it's a bare-bones black market bazaar. You're not the FBI, buddy – hell, you're not even mall security – yet you're fine with prohibited folks possibly scoring firearms while you punch walls over petty leaks and evict members for breathing wrong. Talk about selective vision: hyper-focused on "safety" until it might actually involve real risks or, you know, federal laws. Bare burns? Your hypocrisy's firing on all cylinders, leaving the whole club exposed! Keep playing detective, but maybe holster that rage before it backfires.
Nancy R, the board's eternal legal zombie — former VP turned Legal Chair, re-running for spots in that desperate election scramble like it's her undead calling. You've been the "expert" architect behind the fabricated prosecutions that purged dissenters: Removing board officers and evicting members on trumped-up "privacy violations" and safety BS, all while knowing full well the charges were as real as the club's "thriving" membership claims. You sat in those meetings, lawyering up the lies — twisting bylaws into weapons to silence anyone who dared question the gatekeeping, the drama, or the slow bleed-out of loyalists.
Heidi M drops her "legally we have to evict" line? Nancy's right there nodding, providing the pseudo-legal cover for the hit jobs. Fabricated stories, selective "evidence," and quiet committee whispers — you helped orchestrate the removals of "enemies" faster than the membership roster shrinks. But when real violations hit close to home — like Nancy H leaking background check secrets to hubby Don H — crickets from the Legal Chair. No prosecutions, no evictions, just more hypocrisy to protect the inner circle.
Your "service" isn't safeguarding the club; it's sanitizing it of anyone who might fix the mess. Bold move presiding over evictions that shrink the roster while visitor fees rise to bail out the "nonprofit." When the wrongfully removed sue or the IRS audits the selective enforcement, enjoy lawyering your way out of that one. Minnesota's largest legal farce? All yours.
Nancy H, the board's resident wallflower — so quiet in Tan Tales you could forget she exists, no bold opinions, no volunteer crusades, just a name on the roster hiding in plain sight. Timid? Absolutely. She trembles at the thought of real confrontation, afraid that speaking up might earn her the same cold shoulder the club dishes out to anyone who questions the sacred status quo. Retaliation paranoia keeps her mouth shut tighter than the gate on married singles.
But oh, when it's time to protect her little corner of power? Suddenly the timidity vanishes and the knives come out. Nancy isn't above fabricating stories, twisting facts, or straight-up lying to get "enemies" evicted or blackballed. That fear of retaliation flips into weaponized cowardice: she won't debate policy or defend the club's sinking ship openly, but she'll whisper poison in the right ears, invent drama, or exaggerate minor infractions into "grave safety violations" worthy of expulsion. All while staying safely in the shadows — no fingerprints, no public accountability, just a quiet push that removes threats without her ever having to raise her voice.
It's the classic timid bully playbook: too scared to fight fair, too petty to let dissent breathe. While the membership bleeds out and the IRS risk creeps closer, Nancy's biggest contribution is making sure anyone who might expose the rot gets shown the door first — preferably on trumped-up charges she helped concoct. Brave in the dark, spineless in the light.
Your silence protects nothing, Nancy — it just clears the path for more lies to keep the illusion alive a little longer. When the last real member leaves and the visitor fees can't save the day, remember: the enemies you evicted weren't the problem. The cowardice that invented them was.
Heidi M — term expiring like yesterday’s enthusiasm — loved to drop her favorite pearl of wisdom in board meetings:
“I think legally we have to evict them.”
How convenient, Heidi. How very *principled*.
You sat there with a straight face, pretending some sacred rule of law demanded the removal of anyone who landed on the enemy list. Fabricated “privacy violations,” trumped-up charges, whispered lies — all of it wrapped in your little “I think legally” bow while you knew damn well it was pure, premeditated bullshit. You weren’t enforcing bylaws. You were the polite rubber stamp on a witch hunt, nodding along as Nancy fed Don the leaked background-check dirt so they could manufacture the perfect excuse to boot their rivals.
Meanwhile the real privacy violators — Nancy H illegally sharing confidential committee information with her unofficial hubby Don H — got zero consequences. Not a single eviction notice. Not even a sternly worded Tan Tales paragraph. Just crickets… and another season of membership freefall.
So spare us the “legally we have to” act, Heidi. You weren’t following the law. You were hiding behind it, too spineless to admit you were helping purge enemies on fake charges while protecting the insiders who actually broke the rules.
Your term expired, but the stench of that fake-legal theater still lingers. When the IRS starts digging into the selective enforcement, enjoy explaining how “I think legally” was just cowardice wearing a suit.
The club didn’t need more rules, Heidi.
It needed fewer liars pretending to follow them.
"All jabs based on public records, member experience, Avatan's own site, and IRS guidelines. Not financial advice – consult a pro if you're a member. It's probably time to jump ship."