My work life kicks into high gear in a few days, so I’m trying to take advantage of the fleeting moments of summer to transfer some more matches from the old Producer’s Ring archives to their new location.
I continue to half-anticipate something more cringey about re-reading my old homoerotic wrestling fiction, but I keep surprising myself. I mean, it’s seriously dated. The first matches I wrote are about 12 years old now, so, it’s evident to see the march of time putting the Hollywood hunks I was obsessing over into context. Like, I was such a HUGE Heroes fan. HUGE. I still have a fast-twitch instant erection at Adrian Pasdar’s name, and that’s even after listening to The Chicks Gaslighter album a couple of hundred times in the past year and a half, where Adrian’s cheating ways get aired out with such excellent musical accompaniment. So, little wonder that I was so into picturing who would win a no-holds-barred homoerotic wrestling competition between Milo Ventimiglia and Sendhil Ramamurthy, also Heroes stars. The world has moved on, but it’s fascinating to get transported back to that moment when Milo and Sendhil seemed like the perfectly sexy, obvious pairing. And I did not remember what a seriously brutal match that was! Despite the way their careers took shape in the intervening decade, I still stand by my picture of who would obliterate whose ass.
It took me half a beat to even remember who the fuck Hunter Parrish was when I was transcribing a couple of his stores. Oh, right, I was up to my armpits in Weeds at the time, and feeling way, way frustrated at the cocktease that Hunter Parrish was, playing an emerging adult with mommy issues. However, I had no problem at all placing his opponent, Teddy Sears, who continues to strike a chord in my crotch every time I get a glimpse of him, almost always in some supporting role, looking so fucking fine! I don’t know if I even know any friends IRL who would even recognize the name Teddy Sears, and here I am, self-appointed president of his homoerotic wrestling fan club, instantly hard when I see him in a new role, preferably playing a gay character or someone in a throuple. The match between Hunter and Teddy was always going exactly one direction, and STILL, I was delightfully surprised and aroused re-reading where my mind was those years ago.
And then, it’s no wonder at all that I had to toss Hunter back into some action, because, let me explain again, he was such an epic, major league cocktease! I was seriously working some shit out in Hunter’s second match, facing off against Ben Godfre in the first Secretarial Pool match, which, now that I think about it, later evolved into an elimination tournament to select the newest member of Eli Brody’s elite executive team, with blog readers weighing in. Fuck, what a stroll down memory lane. Fuck, I loved those hunky executive assistants hard! Fuck… Ben Godfre! This, all before Ben hoisted his spectacular full monty freak flag for the average joe, like me, to see that he’s even kinkier and sexier than even my overactive imagination was picturing!
And finally, for this update, the first Major Domo match. As I remember it, the Major Domo stories emerged from my serious, certainly obvious crush I have ALWAYS had on the main character in the Producer’s Ring universe, West Coast Titan Eli Brody. Eli is in almost every story, but he’s pulling strings and typically fully clothed in business suits. Writing him so much, I quickly developed a crush, and I ached to see Eli do more than just sit back and watch, though, honestly, there’s something super sexy about a knock-dead gorgeous beefcake in a suit sitting back and watching two nearly naked/naked hunks ripping into each other. But I digress. The Major Domos took the action to Eli’s living room, and were built on the premise that, on rare occasions, Eli involves himself personally in providing… let’s say, “career advice,” to struggling hunks.
I hope that pulling these stories from the homoerotic wrestling fiction archives tickle at least some of you just right.
And just because I feel compelled to say “I told you so,” I just wanted to point out that low-key genius artist ArtReplicant immediately sent me a humble disclaimer of all of the praise I heaped on him in my last pose. Seriously, that guy is freaking brilliant, and ridiculously humble. Send him some love at his DeviantArt profile, and tell him that I sent you. It’ll drive him nuts.