I’m sitting on several exciting projects that should ripen nicely within the coming days and weeks. I’m working on my next homoerotic wrestling comic, and I’m really, really enjoying how it’s turning out, so far. Here are a couple of preview images for you, available only here on the blog, in various states of being incomplete. They’ll look different in their final drafts, but I know some of you will get a kick out of the works-in-progress versions. The final drafts, in full comic layout, will appear at part of Sidelineland Stories.
Astonishingly, I’m even more stoked for the impending publication of a new Focus Group match in the Producer’s Ring. I alluded to this last week, but this will be the combustible compound that results from mixing my prose with ArtReplicant’s astonishingly sexy 3D artwork. We’ll be publishing this new match, the first, ever, illustrated Producer’s Ring match, very soon, at the resurrected Producer’s Ring archives. Here are some teasers to give you a sneak peak of what’s to come.
And finally, I wish I had an intern for the tedious grunt work of translating the old archives over to their new homes. But, alas, without an intern, it’s just me doing the tedium. Most recently, I’ve uploaded to the Producer’s Ring a couple more Focus Group matches, along with the first TV League match I ever wrote. To be pedantic, this version of the TV League match pitting Jamie Bamber against Tahmoh Penikett is the “director’s cut” version that I re-wrote and published on the pages of this blog about a year and a half ago. It’s just written soooo much better, and the plot and details are just way, way more interesting than the original. If some diehard really wants a copy of the original version, like, if you’re doing a dissertation on the rhetorical development of my homoerotic wrestling celebrity fan fiction, and you simply have to have the untouched earliest historical document, let me know. Short of that, I’m just sticking with publishing this newer version, because it’s fucking sexier!
I don’t know how long this burst of creativity will keep going, but I’m riding the wave as far as it will take me. I hope you enjoy some of it!
Holy shit. It’s been about 14 years since I first started posting celebrity-themed homoerotic wrestling fiction, in what I came to call the Producer’s Ring. Suddenly, I feel old. Honestly, though, I feel sexy, too, so if this is growing old, I’m all for it.
Back to my original point, however. If you’ve read these pages recently, you’re aware that I resurrected the old Sideline Stories archive, and rescued it from Google purgatory, by beginning to transcribe the old stories there to a new site on the updated Google platform. I’m not sure how many more reinventions I’ve got in me, if/when Google decides to sunset this version of Google Sites in the infinite search for appearing innovative and relevant. However, I’ve been painstakingly reconstructing Sidelineland Stories (reborn) here, and having a good time of it (and happy to receive comments on the stories on the pages of this blog).
I’ve been planning on doing the same for the Producer’s Ring archives, as well. Producer’s Ring actually predates the Sidelineland Stories archives by a couple of years. Producer’s Ring was an obliviously ambitious effort at world-building, setting dozens of homoerotic wrestling matches in an alternate universe where, more plausibly than in this universe, homoerotic wrestling contests break out all-the-fucking-time. The setting also allowed me some mental freedom to write my favorite celebrity crushes into the action, because if you haven’t cottoned on, I’m mentally composing homoerotic wrestling scenarios constantly IRL. I’m thrilled to report that I’ve begun the transfer from the old Producer’s Ring group site to a new site, available for your perusal without the annoying bit of me curating a membership list. I’m still sort of waiting on the other shoe to drop with pulling down the members-eyes-only wall, but so far, I’m willfully carefree and enjoying the rebirth of these old stories that I loved writing, and am surprised by how much I’m loving re-reading. I’m doing my best to keep my editing hands off of the old material, even when I find it cringy. I’m relieved that none of it has been all that cringy at all for me, but I’m sorely tempted to correct errors, reduce the repetitions, use more evocative metaphors. I’m doing pretty well at restraining myself, in the interest of letting the historical record stand on its own feet (not sure that absolutely anyone else in the world would ever give a flying fuck, but it’s meaningful to me). Check out the first re-mastered (with such a light hand) matches from the Producer’s Ring here, and you can find a portal in the Sidelineland Stories archives too, for your convenience.
To really bury the lead, let me finally get around to explaining why I accelerated the Producer’s Ring reboot. An artist at Deviant Art approached me to collaborate on a project. Low, and behold, he’s an old Producer’s Ring reader, and it was his idea (I swear!) to collaborate on an illustrated version of a brand new Focus Group match. In honor of that, and to give the new illustrated version a place to land, I’ve started by posting some of the original Focus Group matches. I’m so stoked with the fun of working on this, my collaborator working up artwork as I generate text. It’s going to be sexy as fuck, and I’m going to be incredibly proud of it, once we get it put to bed. Hold your breath, because we’re both pretty fired up with getting this puppy finished up! Details to come…
In between the time I was last blogging with some regularity and today, a lot of shit has gone down (<- understatement of the century). As a result, there are some fresh faces (, jobbers, and heels) on the scene that I’ve not obsessed over here, though that’s certainly not to say I haven’t obsessed over. So let me, in brief, highlight some of the relatively fresh meat that is long overdue for me to adore in print. Honestly, my bandwidth has been pretty limited to BG East and indy pro available on YouTube, with a couple of glances over at HunksWrestling because they’ve been recruiting some fucking dazzling specimens lately. So, this isn’t a representative sampling of all the homoerotic potential to hit the scene in the past year and half, just where my time and attention has drawn my focus. Please feel free to add in the comments that rookies and sophomores from other companies that I’ve failed to mention.
First of all, Forrest Taylor. Holy fuck. It felt to me like this hunk came out of nowhere to suddenly catapult to my top 5 favorite wrestlers. Honestly, he’s the perfect size for me. Compact, fit as a fiddle, and so. damn. pretty. Everything below the neck was carved by Michelangelo, and everything above the neck is porn-ready lumberjack. I didn’t know how much I was missing a red-headed, bushy-bearded, never-say-die twink scrapper, until I caught sight of Forrest. I could (and probably will, sooner or later) wax poetic about his physique, but it would be criminal not to immediately mention here that he’s got an astonishingly gorgeous ass. Like, astonishing. I nominated him for last year’s Debut of the Year. I voted for him as Debut of the Year. And he won Debut of the Year (and Jobber of the Year… he was my second choice in that category). I’ve loved his work in Wrestleshack 27, Ring Rookies 6, and most recently, Ring Singlets 1.
Lobo Gris is really seasoned fresh meat. I’ve followed him on social media well before seeing him grace the ring and mats of BG East, so he was so familiar and tantalizing from the start. He’s got a 70’s porn star body, with an effortlessly impeccable hairy torso and an irresistibly yankable bushy black coif. So fucking handsome, and an incredibly sexy, aggressive, confident persona. I know that he was unmasked in his debut masked match, but I really, really want to advocate, in the strongest possible terms, for a suspension of the masked luchador rules that say once unmasked, a wrestler doesn’t don the mask again. He turned up my temperature when I watched him wrestle Forrest in Wrestleshack 27, and made me dizzy with lust in his sweat soaked corporal lesson in cultural humility with Mason Brooks in Gear Wars 9.
It took a little while, but Freddy Campbell as grown on me. Initially, when he was so ridiculously green, I was resenting him for riding his BF’s coattails into some prime time BG East matches. But damn it all, I keep watching him in match after match, and he keeps sending me harder and harder. He’s doesn’t have the whittled, rock hard physique of so many of the homoerotic wrestling stars, but he’s got that lush, targetable ass and that ridiculously cute (like, surreally sexy Howdy Doody) face that constantly screams for someone to pound him into a pulp. You can watch him objectively growing in confidence and skill across his BG East matches over the past many months, which is sort of intoxicating, in and of itself. I was still hating him in his Backyard Brawl 14 match, but I’ve gone back to it again, with new eyes, and new appreciation, and can’t help myself but enjoy it on repeat. I really learned to love him when he got the full-on Mason Brooks treatment in Wrestleshack 27, and Gear Wars 9 far outpaced my expectations (because I’m pretty lukewarm on soccer), in large part due to watching Freddy saddle up on offense.
Finally, for this post at least, I feel the need to mention John Wolfboy. I know he’s not new to homoerotic wrestling, having appeared for quite a while in at least a couple of other companies. So you probably already knew him, and had formed your opinions about him, long before me. But I was seriously delighted to see him show up at BG East in the past several months and pit that whipcord lean body against some of the reigning bad boys. He seems to have gleefully stepped/stomped onto the hornets nest of heel daddies and their dutiful boys/boyfriends. With the beard and wavy brown hair, he sports a hypermasculine vibe, paired evocatively with a lightweight, junior varsity physique. He has that special talent that I’ve only noticed in a couple of other wrestlers before, to look like he’s got skinny arms one moment, and then to flex, and BOOM… out of nowhere, appear these lovely, meaty, peaked biceps. What brand of devilish sorcery is this?! And does the Wolfboy do worship sessions (asking for a friend)? I first sort of felt bad for his bruising, upperclassmen beatdown (especially considered it was his BGE debut) of Freddy in Backyard Brawls 14, though watching Kayden step in and piss along the borders of his territory (burying Wolfboy under) was poignant. Watching the through-story (fuck, I love a through-story) play out, as Freddy’s BF defends his honor by taking Wolfboy on in the ring, followed by Ash’s heel mentor, Kayden showing back up for another pissing contest, was incredibly successful story telling, as far as I’m concerned. And fuck, can W-boy take, and dish out, a brutally sexy beating!
I’ve got a longer list of fresh meat to laud, but I’ll push publish now, so that I can get on with some other projects that I’m excited to share here soon. In the meantime, let me know who’s been turning your eye lately.
The first two chapters of Shane’s Big Break got rave reviews from Bgklmangler, so I put a rush on re-posting the next two chapters to my new homoerotic wrestling fiction archive, Sidelineland Stories. I’m a sucker for praise (feel free to manipulate me, now), and truth be told, I’m really pleased to rediscover these stories that I wrote more than 10 years ago. And I’m really, really pleased/pleasured by how compelling I find them, even in hindsight (which often makes me cringe when looking back at old work).
While the first chapter was a fun thought-experiment between me and Bearhugs (Bearhugs writing chapter 1, and then seeing what I’d do with chapter 2), I grew seriously attached to the characters and the backstory of Shane and his old high school classmate, Neil. So, both of these next two chapters were all mine, and I set out to complicate Shane’s world in a way that might set up still more chapters to come. In chapter 3 (“Home Town Hero”), Shane returns to the ring before a roaring crowd wanting to see him do them proud and make up for the squash he suffered at Neil’s hands the week before. He’s lined up to wrestle a lightweight rookie, a former champ, who willingly puts Shane over and whips the home town crowd into a frenzy to see their old high school quarterback make good.
But this is pro wrestling, so get ready for a healthy second helping of melodrama, when heel-turned bodybuilder and former “friend” Neil interrupts Shane’s virginal victory celebration to, quite literally, wipe the mat with him all over again.
Honestly, I love Neil (holy fuck, am I a heel-fan after all!?). I’m infatuated with the new character, Mikey (nope, nope, I’m still a sucker for a babyface). And for some reason, I love/hate, love hating, Shane, and I do not grow tired of watching him (in literary fashion), with the taste of victory just brushing his palate, have glory slapped out of his mouth, humiliated all over again. If you read chapter 4 (“Scores to Settle”), you may sense my ambivalence about poor, poor Shane. Let me know what you think. I’ve sworn off writing new fiction for a while, while I enjoy doing some graphic adaptations of my homoerotic wrestling fiction, but damn it all, if I don’t seriously want another couple of chapters in Shane’s Big Break. Where do you think the story could take us next?
One of my favorite unintended consequences of sharing my thoughts about homoerotic wrestling for just anyone to read about here, is the opportunity it’s given me to collaborate with other like-minded men. As soon as I started posting the products of my homoerotic wrestling imagination on this blog, and in the pages of my homoerotic wrestling fiction, I began getting contacted by gay wrestling fans with burgeoning imaginations of their own. I think it was a sexy Swede named Swito who was the first to co-write a piece of homoerotic wrestling fiction with me. We fell out of touch, but still to this day, I get a little extra hit of excitement when I see someone from Svenska logged on here (fuck, I love the Swedes).
After I started writing my original homoerotic wrestling fiction, set in the Producer’s Ring universe (I swear, I’ll be reposting those stories in a new Google Site soon), and my first collab with Swito came about there, I started the companion site (Sidelineland Stories), expressly to encourage new writers and maximize the opportunities for more collaborations. I’ve completely lost track of the writer Bearhugs (yo, Bearhugs!), but he challenged me to “finish” a story he started, starring a washed-up, former star high school quarterback, who reconnects with an old classmate who gives him the opportunity to break into the local pro wrestling fed. Bearhugs wrote, and I posted, the first chapter, in which Shane finds out just how far old high school friendships can stretch in his first pro match.
Then it was my turn. Bearhugs challenged me to write what comes next. I’m not sure that Bearhugs was picturing things going the direction that I took them, but fuck it, that’s the beauty of collaborating with other homoerotic wrestling fans, isn’t it? I decided to twist the straight up squash job into a homoerotic wrestling after-show. It’s populated by you, and me, and a handful of other serious homoerotic wrestling fans, with cash burning a whole in their pockets and a local wrestling company happy to recruit their wrestlers to do what it takes to earn that money.
Sometimes, I sort of dread re-reading things I’ve written in the past. My writing evolved and, frankly, improved over time, and some of the early stuff trips me up with obtuse descriptions and clumsy exposition. But I’m genuinely happy, and just a little proud, to report that I really enjoyed recently reacquainting myself with Shane and his colleagues. Like, seriously, I enjoyed it A LOT (and then rehydrated). Bearhugs picked the only two images I have for this story, so there are limited graphics to accompany your imagination. I have half a mind to put this in the cue to draw in comic format (let me know what you think).
So, now, the first couple of chapters (Bearhugs’ story 1, and my “what happens next“) are posted to the newly launched Sideline Stories reborn. Thanks, Google Sites, for making me re-discover the good, bad, and ugly of my homoerotic wrestling fiction history, as I migrate materials over to the new platform. There are two more chapters (another pro match, followed by the after-match drama) that I plan to post soon, because fuck it if they don’t make me seriously happy, as well! I hope they bring you at least a fraction of the pleasure that they’ve brought me. Take a read, and let me know what you think in the comments here.
Living through a pandemic has done a number on a lot of us. It’s been a long stretch and a heavy load on my outlook on life. I’m normally pretty chill, and things don’t get to me (or at least, stick around for long). But the refreeze on the cold war, global economic instability, and ideological hijacking of the U.S. Supreme Court, on top of coping locally with the implications of a global pandemic, have interrupted even my legendarily sound sleep. So, I took it as a sign from the homoerotic wrestling gods when, one late autumn morning, I was watching my local news, and Scott Williams’ face appeared on my screen.
Right? I mean, any time I lay my eyes on Scott, I thank the ether that this gorgeously handsome hunk stars in some of my favorite wrestling fantasies. But the sheer randomness of seeing him show up, completely out of the blue, on my local broadcast, sort of shook me just a little more than usual.
Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with Scott’s incredibly sexy body of wrestling work, or even his incredibly sexy body. It was one of those “feel good” fluffy news pieces that local stations shop around to each other, to try to help us all avoid collapsing into paralyzing depression from watching the actual news. A Boston news outlet was set up near where a major motion picture was, reportedly, being filmed. Boston had closed down some city streets for the production, and locals were showing up along the sidelines to catch a glimpse of U.S. royalty (i.e., our entertainment stars). The poor local reporter who drew the short straw, and had to stand outside and make something that is, fundamentally, not news, appear to look like a news story, was interviewing the looky-loos.
And like a thunderbolt from the homoerotic wrestling heavens, Scott Williams is standing there with a microphone in his face! No. Fucking. Way! But yes. Way! I don’t know that I actually heard what Scott said when being interviewed, because I was yelling at the television screen, “NO FUCKING WAY!”
There’s some major meta mind-fuck happening here, when I’m tripping on catching a glimpse of a homoerotic wrestling star that I have crushed on since first laying eyes on him, who is, himself, hanging out in the hopes of tripping on catching a glimpse of a Hollywood star that, presumably, he is passionate enough about to stand around outside in Boston’s brisk late-autumn weather. If I didn’t already believe in the homoerotic wrestling gods, this adrenaline shot to my mid-pandemic morning would have totally converted me into one of the devout.
And because I KNOW that Scott reads the pages of this blog (because he occasionally comments, prompting me to immediately dig out one of his matches and rifle off some shuddering pleasure), I just want to thank him, personally, for brightening my day, yet again. Did you see any Hollywood stars that day, Scott? Did the reporter comment on your superhero-proportioned square jaw and devastating good looks? Have you kept the peaks on those mouthwatering biceps of yours sharpened while the gyms were closed during the pandemic? And, since the homoerotic wrestling pantheon is clearly set on putting you in my path, when am I likely to see you (preferably stripped down and in a wrestling ring) next?
I’ve transferred another story from my old archive to the new one, Sidelineland Stories. Re-reading this match makes me chuckle. It also turns me on, again, which is fun to rediscover. There was a period of time when I was, absolutely ignorantly, fueling the rumor mill regarding corporate competition between rival gay-oriented wrestling companies. At the time, I was just noticing that wrestlers were migrating from one company to another, and I was totally providing the back-story that the hot hunks were being nefariously poached. I had no actual insider info about the politics of it all, but that didn’t prevent me from speculating (talking out-my-ass). And we all know the lengths my imagination will take me.
Chasing Rio is a story about corporate espionage and cut-throat headhunting (hunk-hunting, really) among the wresting companies that cater to gay fans. When this was originally written, there were 3 or 4 serious producers on the scene, at least my take on the scene. Rio Garza had just recently begun wrestling for Rock Hard Wrestling under a different name, and it was all sorts of drama going off in my head. These days, it feels like the field has exploded with producers putting content out of their garage, and in the past few years, individual wrestlers marketing their own self-produced materials directly through OnlyFans pages. I’ve got so many opinions about the state of the scene, but I’m going to resist the temptation to go there. Today, at least.
Instead, feel free to tuck in with Chasing Rio, a tag team competition featuring long-standing favorite wrestling crushes Rio Garza, Mitch Colby, Derek da Silva, and Zack Jonathan (Vazquez Z-Man). If you know my opinions well, you probably just chuckled when I listed Z-Man as a favorite. At the time that I wrote Chasing Rio, Z-Man had not ventured onto the BG East roster, and the companies for which he worked did not push him hard enough to really learn the craft of wrestling, in my opinion. A few outings with BG East, which I have on very good authority (you know I’ve got a man inside the operation who feeds me intel) included direct tutelage from The Boss himself, and Z-Man won me over. I still mostly just want to see him get crushed like a pop can, but I readily admit that he can reliably turn me on when he does it these days. I had my gripes about Rio, at times, as well, so consider my tastes carefully.
A couple of years after I first published this story and stoked the rumor mill about corporate competition and talent poaching, I actually enjoyed (a lot) the opportunity to meet the back office boys at BG East, in real life. The conversation about wrestlers working for competing companies came up, and the powers that be at BG East were adamant that they never imply a non-compete clause when they work with their wrestlers, and that they wish them only the best. Which, frankly, was really cool to hear, from the perspective of a fan. Of course, the BG East boys quickly followed up with the (persuasive) argument that they recruit, train, feature, and promote their wrestlers in ways far superior than anyone else.
All my best to the fierce hunks who strip down, oil up, and pound their bodies into each other for the carnal pleasure of gay wrestling fans like you and me. I’m just thrilled for the way that they fuel my wrestling fantasies, and I hope that they enjoy long careers and happy lives. Interestingly, I believe that Z-Man may be the only star of Chasing Rio still on the scene, and I’m not entirely sure even he is. I’d love to hear what life is like for fantasymen like these hunks, after the cameras are off, and they’re looking back (hopefully proudly) at their wrestling careers.
Just in the interest of bookkeeping, I wanted to point out that the second chapter of Brothers in Arms (the original text version of the homoerotic wrestling story) is now up and live at the new Sidelineland Stories archive. Check it out there if you’re interested, and let me know what you think by commenting here. I’m working on a graphic adaptation of a different story, also live in the new archives, but my plan is to do a graphic adaptation of BiA chapter 2 in the future.
For a new take on an old theme here on the blog, I thought I’d provide some comments on a relatively recent homoerotic wrestling match that turned my crank. I wrote the BG East marketing description for this match. I’ve managed to remain part of the BGE production family by getting early access to upcoming matches that they send me, and, in return, writing the copy that they use on their website. As part of the release of Catalog 158, I had the honor and immense pleasure of getting first eyes on Masked Mayhem 20, and the super tasty treats of Andy Body and Vampiro Blanco, the white vampire.
My text for the BGE website is not hyperbole. Fuck, this match, and these two wrestlers, turned me on soooooo much! I’ve been snapping up all of Andy Body’s matches to write the marketing for over the past year or so, because I’m so, so into this hunk. He has yet to be unmasked, and that element of mystery, especially for a rookie, vigorously spanks my lucha libre infatuation. His opponents, thus far, have had a hard time prying their eyes away from his thick, juicy pecs, which I totally get. But fuck, his lush, thick thighs and grabbable ass are what send me. He’s no jobber, but is he a heel? A masked babyface? He’s mean, but in that way that makes me think he dishes out cruelty in exact proportion to what he knows his opponents can take (and want).
Vampiro Blanco shows up to take on Andy, and damn, I’m hard pressed (and, let’s face it, just hard) to decide whose hot bod to soak up. The vampire gets unmasked, but I know how that there are BGE fans who live for the anticipation, so I won’t spoil it and tell you who he is (if you haven’t already guessed). And happily, the unmasked hunk has kept coming back for more in the past couple of months. Vampiro Blanco is sly and sadistic, sneakily crawling up the gazebo railing to surprise Andy from behind (me, next, please). The vibe off this match is that Vampiro is the heel here. He’s cruel, and he telegraphs his intentions to brutalize and humiliate the pectacular rookie, and to unmask him for all to see. He’s lightly hairy, with gorgeous, functional muscle and naturally thick and powerful thighs.
As the match unfolds, my tendency to play the mark takes over and I start rooting hard (again, seriously hard) for Andy. It’s not that I don’t like Vampiro Blanco, but there’s that babyface vibe from Andy that, 9 times out of 10, sucks me right in. When the vampire is stomping on Andy’s balls, and then sucking him into masked-face-to-crotch head scissors, I’m one of those fans crying “injustice” and urging the trapped hunk to battle back and take revenge.
Vampiro is seriously skilled and assertive, upping the alluring scent of Andy’s vulnerability. The vampire rolls Andy into a Mexican Ceiling hold (appropriately enough), monologuing like a villain. “How does that feel, Mr. Nobody? Now, let’s see the face behind that mask!” Like melted butter, Vampiro slides seamlessly from the ceiling hold into a surfboard, and then uses his free boot to massage Andy’s balls. “Seems like you’re enjoying that,” Vampiro laughs evilly, and it’s not like Andy’s deep-chested groans of pained pleasure are any contradiction.
Andy in jeopardy activates my deep, pre-adolescent babyface wrestler rescue fantasies. But I should have known Andy wouldn’t need me to step in and defend him. Just when Vampiro is leaping from the gazebo railing, Andy catches him in mid-air, cradled across his epic chest, like it’s fucking nothing at all. Mr. Body then proceeds to pound Vampiro’s back into every gazebo post, before lifting him up and pounding his abs down across Andy’s knee. You can feel the rush of breath compressed out of Vampiro’s lungs on your face on this side of the screen. And then, just to ride that heel/babyface line, Andy spanks Vampiro’s lush ass. Fuck yes, Andy! Turn those tables and claim that ass!
Again, I loved this match. I’m lapping up every match I can get my eyes on that involve either of these sensationally sexy, hot young hunks. I’m still waiting for someone to worship Andy’s Body with the passionate devotion it deserves. In the meantime, let me know if you need any back up, buddy. I’m so very much here for you!
I hope that you enjoyed my first efforts at a comic book format for my homoerotic wresting imagination. Brothers in Arms was a graphic translation of the first chapter in a story I began writing nearly 12 years ago(!). Looking back at my blog post about the original text version reminds me that the whole idea was in response to a reader request that was way, way out of my area of expertise. However, as is my wont, I took the idea in the only direction that my erotic imagination ever travels. And, pretty quickly, I got totally into the project and fell in love with the main characters.
I’ve heard from folks who’ve stumbled across my mention of my homoerotic wrestling fiction archives in past blog posts, requesting that I make those archives available to new folks. It’s been so long since I was actively administering my two archive sites, it took me a bit to even track them down. I originally had the sites behind a couple of for-your-eyes-only walls, with folks needing to sign up for a group membership, and then be permitted access. Hell, originally, it was a Yahoo group, that I migrated to a Google Group and Google Sites when Yahoo was phasing their shit out. Well, Google has also been phasing shit out, and are about to phase out what they now refer to as “Google Sites Classic,” which my old archives are now listed as. I feel like something considered “classic” should come with more perks than this does.
To cut to the chase, I’ve finally had some time to dig around, retrieve the old archives, and feel my way around the new Google Sites platform. It was another learning curve, but I think I’ve sorted out a pretty close facsimile of the now-“Classic” version of the archive that I entitled “Sidelineland Stories.” For fans seriously into their WrestleBard trivia (and I love you all dearly), you’ll notice that I started with the second archive (the first having been entitled the “Producer’s Ring”). I did that strategically, because the Brothers in Arms chapters abide at Sidelineland Stories, and since I’ve just resurrected BiA in graphic format, I wanted to share the original text version.
I’ve gone back and forth about permissions and accessibility, and finally just decided to say “fuck it,” and I’ve made it public. There are administrative downsides to doing this that I won’t get into, but I’d rather tackle those downsides than try to administer individual permissions like I did first time around. You can now take a look at the no-longer-classic Sidelineland Stories published here.
At the moment, you’re only going to find two of the original stories posted currently (there are dozens in the archive). The first chapter of Brothers in Arms is there, so you can see how the story played out similarly and differently from the graphic adaptation I just posted. I made some strategic choices to fit the comic book format, and, frankly, my imagination tweaked the story in new ways. The other story posted on the rebooted archive site is the next story I’m working on to adapt into graphic format. It is, I’m pretty sure, my favorite piece of homoerotic wrestling fiction I ever wrote, and working on the graphic adaptation is similarly driving me to distraction.
I’ll be working on migrating the rest of the archives over. My thanks to those of you who commented and liked the Brothers in Arms graphic adaptation, and to those of you who have patiently been waiting for me to provide you access to the old archives. I’m not sure where this energy for rebooting the online expression of my homoerotic wrestling kink came from, or where it’s going, but I’m having fun, which was always the point for me.