Today I’m tossing together several little odds and ends that all smell so nice.  For example, a few weeks ago I was watching Good Morning America and caught this slice of hotness reporting across lines as ABC and Univision are mashing up their news for white people with their new news for Latinos who don’t speak Spanish so well (to be clear, I’m not making fun.  I think this makes perfect sense), Fusion.

Fusion reporter Pedro Andrade



Pedro Andrade was fully clothed and wearing a sports coat, but holy fuck there was something pristinely erotic and nakedly raw about this hunk’s beautiful brown eyes and those full, luscious lips seductively stretched in a lopsided grin. Thank the homoerotic wrestling gods I live in the age when I can instantly scratch my itch and look up this reporter to see if there are any shirtless shots.  Mind you, shirtless pics of mainstream news reporters can often be very rare nuggets of gold that require sifting through google images for days on end (been there. often.).  This was, however, not a problem when it comes to ridiculously attractive Pedro.


I believe as unadulterated fact anything this man has to tell me, as long as he’s shirtless.



Apparently his first career was as a model. Or still is.  I’m confident that there’s an extensive backstory to how this slice of gold showed up on a national network news team, and I’m fairly certain that someone who reads this blog will fill me in. Whatever “news” is today, it’s populated increasingly by overtly sexy, crotch warming hotties. And I know I speak for many when I say that the rise of the hardbodied Latino news hunk is long overdue and deeply, profoundly arousing. And knowing of my penchant for casting news personalities in homoerotic wrestling fiction, it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that my mind instantly pictures infinitely fuckable Pedro first going pec to pec against, then tag teaming with, ABC’s resident Latino powerhouse muscle hunk, Gio Benitez.  Now that would be a match made in homoerotic wrestling heaven!




Pedro says, “Bring it!” (or however that’s translated into Portuguese).


Gio is fluent in Spanish, but I think wrapping those massive pythons around Pedro’s head should probably speak for itself.


Adding to the sweet aroma of hot wrestling hunks, let me pass along a hot little gem that showed up from one of the sexiest-assed wrestling fairies ever known to man (who shall remain nameless, but not unthanked).  Forwarded to me is the link to artist Ben McNutt‘s new installation over at VICE, entitled “Undying Homoeroticism in Wrestling.”  The VICE title “Wrestling is Gay” is such flamer bait, but then again, this is art, so begin provoked is almost certainly the point. However, for the likes of you and me, there’s a pace and power to Ben’s juxtaposition of words and images that reaches a hand deep inside my kink-soul and lets the eroticism of wrestling drizzle through his fingers like fine jewels.


Check out the VICE piece as well as the artist’s body of work that appears to have a  persistent wrestling them woven through it.

Inexplicably, Drake bristles at being called "a sweet jobber."
Inexplicably, Drake bristles at being called “a sweet jobber.”

Finally to add a little jobber musk to this potpourri, let me quickly respond to a few inquiries I’ve received asking if my account of getting my hands on BG East jobber extraordinaire, Drake Marcos, was a work of fiction or fact. I get it, of course, because I have transparently written wrestling fiction with me as protagonist on the pages of this blog, typically around the New Year each year.  And Drake has been entirely silent since sucking on his own sweat soaked trunks at the end of our match. To be clear and forthcoming, particularly in the absence of Drake stepping up and owning how he got owned, let me say unequivocally and declaratively that yes, my ring encounter with Drake Marcos did, indeed happen. My accounting of the highly enjoyable battle was unembellished. And really, after all his bluster and smirks over the past year, do you blame the handsome stud for slinking into a hole for a couple of weeks to nurse his battered ego after a blogger owned him, trussed him up, and left him in a pool of his own copious sweat?

Yeah, that never gets old.


So suck down the sweet aroma of random homoerotic wrestling thoughts and images and have a provocative, arousing day, my friends.

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