And speaking of hot male models and my homoerotic wrestling imagination, did you see that Wendell Lissimore is in a fantastic visual menage a trois for Out Magazine? I’m pretty sure that he’s straight, so this scene of him as the lean meat in a white bread man-sandwich is just awesome fuel for my homoerotic wrestling fantasies in which Wendell has already made a few appearances.
Hot damn! BG East’s sudden Summer Sizzlers release yesterday has me powerfully provoked and bitterly impatient for the mailman. And speaking of my entirely socially constructed modern inability to delay gratification, I’m extremely pleased with the new BG East Arena update schedule. I must say, of my subscriptions, this propels the Arena into by far the best value. And just to be clear, I don’t get paid to say that. Just calling it like I see it.
And speaking of calling it like I see it (I suspect this will be one long stream of consciousness post today), I keep returning to the recent pics of “Mr. Brazil 2011” Lucas Malvacini that I’ve been seeing. Whatever is in the water in Brazil, I want it bottled and forced down the throats of the men in my neighborhood. Smoking hot male model after smoking hot male model from Brazil keeps showing up and making the case that the southern hemisphere is inherently sexy. But more than just another eye-wateringly hot naked body, Mr. Brazil made me do a double-take. Where have I seen that boyishly sincere smile before? Who does this side of beef remind me of with his “oh, you’re looking at lil’ ol’ me?” shy tilt of the head, making those infinitely squeezable pecs and sweetly bulging biceps that much more enticing?
Jaha! (as my Swedish friends would say). It’s yet another Denny Cartier free-association that my brain is making. While perhaps not Denny’s doppleganger, there’s a gestalt about him that makes me picture Lucas as Denny’s younger, taller brother… and tag team partner.
Don’t you see it? Well, perhaps it’s partly rooted in my well-documented obsession with Denny. It’s certainly true this wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve spotted some handsome hunk that I’m intuitively convinced comes from Denny’s corner of the gene pool. I’m not sure if this Rorschach test is tapping into my subconscious infatuation with seeing more Denny wrestling, or whether it’s my lust to get back to writing a new Secretarial Pool homoerotic wrestling match starring more hot male models.
In my imagination, every hard-bodied hunk with a six pack and rock hard pecs is a cock chaser. I think I’ve written no more than one woman into a storyline in my homoerotic wrestling fantasy universe (name that tune for a prize), and I don’t think that I’ve ever bothered with a truly straight male character, at least not one that couldn’t enjoy getting off to some man-on-man muscle domination from time to time. It’s not as if the cutthroat capitalism-gone-mad world of my homoerotic wrestling imagination is one in which I’d want to live full time. But I do enjoy being “special guest star” in my own serial fantasy where every question and conflict is settled with no-holds barred erotic wrestling, where brutal sexual domination is the bread-and-butter of corporate intrigue and international politics, and where homoerotic romance dots the landscape in an otherwise unforgiving egomaniacally-based economy where everything is commodified.
And speaking of me as special guest star in my own fantasy, did you catch the shot of shirtless Jason Bateman on EW (thank you, Towleroad)? Jason has long been my pick to play me in the made-for-television version of my life. I settled on him well before I ever saw a shirtless shot of him, so imagine my delight to discover that he’s quite a hot little number, in addition to being an excellent actor with a fun sense of humor.
I’m not sure where all this stream-of-consciousness was leading, but for those who traveled this intimate path through my synapses, welcome to my world! Happy weekend!