Author: wrestlebard

I'm a gay man with an active imagination.

In the Ropes

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These days, I’m getting worked over pretty hard. I’m working my ass off, just managing to stay on my feet. And, wouldn’t you know it, just when I find myself backed into the ropes, some nasty heel villain uses those very same ropes to work me over that much harder.
KV v Ken Mason (assisted by KL) – Tag Team Torture 1
Metaphorically, this makes my day-to-day life these days suck. On the other hand, literally, when someone uses the ring ropes to take advantage of an already battered hunk, that does not suck (at least not for the heel or for me, watching). Turning the set into an integral prop to tell the story is, in fact, a major turn on for me, further explaining my particular preference for ring action.
Brigham Bell v Patrick Donovan – Hunkbash 5
Sliced to hell and mean as a king cobra, Brigham Bell pretty much always used the ropes, and most of the time he took full advantage by not only capturing his hunks in the ropes, but then head scissoring them at the same time. Illustrated so delightfully in his ring action with Patrick Donovan, ultra-lean, muscled bodies put on artistic display is the icing on the cake. The cake itself, of course, is the completely gratuitous humiliation of an already suffering hunk. To capture 6’1″ pec-tacular Patrick so defenselessly, so vulnerably, and then to squeeze Patrick’s handsome face humiliatingly between Brigham’s tightly corded thighs… talk about the climax of a story!
Brad Rochelle v Patrick Donovan – Wrestlefest 2
Patrick, Patrick, Patrick… early in his BG East career, Patrick frequently occupied the restraints of the ring ropes. He just suffered so sweetly! It’s no wonder that opponent after opponent reveled in beating him down and then tying him up to not only soak up more punishment, to also have his ego crushed as decisively as his hot, long, gorgeous body. On his way to being awarded Rookie of the Year in Wrestlefest 2 (I vote for more Wrestlefests!), Brad Rochelle slapped Patrick into what I think, objectively speaking, is the hottest bit of ring rope torture ever captured on camera. Hunk-on-hunk, stunning body on stunning body, handsome face squaring off against handsome face, and Brad taking a foreshadowing turn to the dark side to lock Patrick’s throat between the bottom to ropes and then boston crag his legs, sitting his fine (fine, fine, fine, fine) ass down across Patrick’s shoulders to choke him that much more. 

Brad Rochelle v Dom the Dominator – Demolition 3

Brad, Brad, Brad… of course, any regular reader of this blog is already fully immersed in the drama of Brad Rochelle’s BGE career, as his fratboy face and go-go boy muscles went through years of jobbing, suffering like perhaps none other, not infrequently himself trapped in the very same ropes with which he’d humiliated Patrick and won rookie of the year. Dom’s boot in his ass and his back cranked backward over the top rope, Brad’s rope-suffering illustrates what is the tastiest pay off of all with rope work: the stunning body of a hunk displayed so fully and vulnerably.

Rio Garza v Donnie Drake v “Trevor” Mathews – Pro Bashed Triple Threat
I noticed in recent pics from Can-Am’s new (upcoming?) release, Pro Bashed Triple Threat, that Rio Garza is on the receiving end of some tasty hunk rope punishment at the hands of Donnie Drake. This is, perhaps, the best representation of my own subjective experience at the moment. Clearly outmuscled and at the mercy of a nasty, big, brick house bastard, like Rio under the control of Donnie Drake, I’m getting pried backward and pounded on with nothing to do but take it and look pretty (I can pull that off, too).
As I whine, just a bit, about my own woes (I can sell suffering when it’s my turn), I find some comfort in the sight of some beautiful hunks getting tied up and beat down with the assistance of the ropes. Well, okay, so perhaps “comfort” isn’t the word. But it does, somehow, make the nasty heels in my own life a little more tolerable when I spend a little time admiring the aesthetics and erotics of homoerotic wrestling heels taking the picture frame itself and choking the daylights out of the stunning portrait of a musclehunk in the middle.

Battling Brothers

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Homotrophy keeps delighting me, lately. These pics of “Eric” from the Sweat Underwear collection (a collection designed with you and me in mind, clearly) caught and held my attention. This is hardly surprising, since Eric is quite a hot hunk. But there was something more, some bell ringing in the back of my head. Finally, I figured out what connections were getting made in my subconscious. You may not see the resemblance, and if so, keep it to yourself (don’t kill my buzz!). But personally, I think Eric looks a lot like my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (nonpornboy), BG East’s own, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!).

With you, my discerning reader, in mind, I conducted an extensive visual inspection of everything I could get a hold of for Eric and for Mr. Joshua. It was grueling, painstaking work, I tell you, but I’m committed to your enlightenment. I finally decided that I don’t think that Eric is, indeed, Mr. Joshua in a clever underwear model disguise. And I’m happy to say that Mr. Joshua doesn’t have Eric’s nipple piercings, because that just always seems a dangerous accessory in a homoerotic wrestler. No, rather than a doppelganger, I think Eric is more like Mr. Joshua’s hot brother or first cousin. Similar face, very similar body (if Mr. J is a tad harder and bigger), and after agonizingly labored inspection with my zoom, I have to say that it looks entirely possible that Eric has a package that very well could be in the same (extremely exclusive and astonishingly impressive) league with Mr. J’s.
I’m always a sucker for the sexy brother/cousin tag team gimmick. I saw through this gimmick about the time that I watched them try to sell Lance as a “Von Erich.” Frankly, I always assumed Kerry must’ve looked a lot like the milk man, but Lance? There’s no way that came from the same corner of the gene pool. But it was the story that made me suspend my disbelief. It was the layering of drama, along with the side by side multiplication of beauty, that made me feel some extra loving for battling brothers/cousins. 
I think Eric looks like he could be game for some hot, sweaty action, BGE-style, don’t you? Mr. Joshua ought to bring his “little” brother, Mr. Eric, along for a tag team bout. At some point, there would need to be side-by-side standing head scissors on their poor (lucky, lucky, lucky) opponents, as the brother’s simultaneously shove their big hands down the front of their trunks to adjust the oversized luggage they both carry. And because everything Mr. Joshua does from now on MUST continue the fantastic theme of body worship, ala his smoking hot recent mat romp with rookie Randy Stanton, the Mr. Goodman Brothers team would certainly work themselves into a frenzy by soaking in the awed adoration of their opponents. They’ll probably want to trade worshippers at some point. Mr. Joshua will probably demand some double-team worship, because his ego is just that big. Mr. Eric would feel disrespected. Resentment would grow. And a fantastic, deeply personal wrestling grudge would blossom.

Recipe for Success

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From photographer Michael Stokes (from me to you via Homotrophy), comes this morsel of wrestling kink allusion baked just to my tastes. The rocking physique… the singlet on it’s way off, the truly stunning tats. Who is this vision ripped from a dream that I haven’t yet dreamt (but soon will)?!

Okay, so perhaps if this was truly made to order, this slice of picture-perfect beef would be climbing into a pro wrestling ring. He could keep the amateur gear on. I can totally nurse some kink-loving for the hot jock amateur stud who thinks he can bring his hard body bulging out of his  alma mater’s singlet into the pro ring and teach some “showman” what real wrestling is about. In fact, I love that culture clash of pursed-lipped, hardbodied, earnest innocence with seasoned, jaded, as-vicious-as-I-need to be experience. “The initiation” motif, opening up the merely imagined realities of a pro beat down on the muscleboy here to conquer the world, never, ever tires me, in fact.
There’s another singlet shot of this chiseled work of art on the photographer’s site (along with a dozen other aesthetically pleasing bodies in various states of undress-mostly-undressed and aroused), as well as this fig-leaf modesty pick of him on the football field. Me not being a fan of football, this pick, while delightful, is only kink-adjacent. Slap this inked, naked god into the ring, and speaking of slapping, a spanking would be absolutely essential.
Damn.

Porn Sunday

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In honor of the excellent concept of Porn Sunday, here are a few retailers that you might consider supporting today…

Billy Lodi v Skip Vance – BGE X-Fights 33

BG East’s X-iest new release is X-Fights 33, pitting twink buddies Skip Vance and Billy Lodi. Billy fiercely conquers and then tenderly rewards Skip. Looking for some mat wrestling, jerks, sucks, kissing and cum to celebrate Porn Sunday?

Sebastian Keys v Jake Austin – Naked Kombat

Naked Kombat’s newest release will treat you to Jake Austin determined not to lose his ass yet again against buzz cut Sebastian Keys. Jake’s fate is, of course, to get owned, spanked, and fucked 5 ways to Porn Sunday.

Landon Myclse v Michael Vineland – Can-Am Pro Sex Fight 1

For my tastes, Can-Am’s X-iest and best new release is Pro Sex Fight 1, starring the wrestling pornboy stylings of previous homoerotic wrestler of the month, Landon Mycles, and Can-Am work horse Michael Vineland. This offers a delightful recipe of pro wrestling, erotic wrestling, and mutually satisfying sex in the middle of the ring.

Trent Diesel v Hugo Milano – Raging Stallion’s Brutal Part 2

If you’re looking for more porn (it is, Porn Sunday, after all) in your porn/wrestling mix, you might want to celebrate the day with a purchase of Raging Stallion’s Brutal. My reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, Trent Diesel, wrestles and fucks and fucks and fucks, among a non-stop, 2-part, pornboy after pornboy pornfest.

Cody Nelson v Max Powers – Rock Hard Wrestling

Less porn, but no perhaps more up your alley to celebrate Porn Sunday, includes Rock Hard Wrestling (you’d think with a name like that there might be more porn), and their just out release of new Mr. Franchise, Cody Nelson going muscle to muscle in the ring with Max Powers.

Conan v Johnny Bravo – Thunder’s Arena

Or you may want to see some big, big, big muscleboy’s wrestle in less-than-porn fun over at Thunder’s Arena, where Johnny Bravo pounds the bodybuilder pecs of Australian blond bombshell, Conan.

Trent Diesel – Reigning Favorite Homoerotic Wrestling Pornboy

I’m a booster. That’s pretty much what I have to offer, and so I’m fully in favor of a lot of us showing some love to the hardworking boys in front of and behind the camera, bringing us orgasm after orgasm of entertainment by celebrating Porn Sunday with a special purchase, dedicated to our favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys. No shame. No way.

Potently Powerful Little Package

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My reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month and newly minted top contender for the title of my overall favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, DJ, is (obviously) a wrestler that has provided me a lot of entertainment. He’s been around Naked Kombat for over a year and a half now, working his tight little ass off in an astonishing 15 four-round matches. It’s no wonder he’s incredibly accomplished at the particular nuances of coming out on top in Naked Kombat!
DJ v Dean Tucker

DJ’s debut match was against another one of my favorite NK boys who we haven’t seen in a long time, Dean Tucker. The fact that DJ was up for a debut match with an oil round should have told us all something. He’s game for any challenge. He’s since been in three more oil matches. Dean worked over the rookie in the end, but DJ made the muscleboy work, and work hard from start to finish. Again, there was a clear lesson to be learned here. DJ does not roll over and take it from anyone without a fight to the very last second of the competition.

DJ v Dean Tucker

DJ has also been a star player in 3 undefeated outings in tag team competition. His first tag bout partnered with Spencer Reed was the last time NK offered a “live audience.” It seems the NK battlers were a little too encouraged to fight that much harder with a live audience, resulting in multiple injuries. Again in DJ’s tag outing with Spencer, Patrick Rouge drops out early in the second round with an injury. It should be noted, however, that even prior to Patrick’s injury DQ, Spencer and DJ were quite literally wiping the mats with the sweat soaked bodies of their opponents. And DJ got some sweet retribution in on his initiator, Dean Tucker, who found himself without his tag team partner and destined to get crushed and owned in round 4. The double team work performed by DJ and Spencer is, I believe, the most delightful double-teaming I’ve ever witnessed. Thoroughly, thoroughly, thoroughly delightful… particularly in working over Dean.

DJ & Spencer Reed v Dean Tucker & Patrick Rouge

There are a couple givens in a DJ match. First, his opponent will make a vaguely racist allusion to DJ’s dark kinky hair. I don’t actually know what DJ’s racial or ethnic heritage is, but frankly, referring to someone with wiry, curly hair as “a troll doll” (as most of his 18 opponents do!) is just unnecessary in my book. Perhaps that’s why I take such delight in DJ, more and more frequently lately, opening a can of whoop-ass on the cocky pale boys who can’t muster the appropriate level of respect for him in their pre-match interviews. As I’ve mentioned before, DJ is putting on more muscle, pound by pound, and he may still look “skinny,” but watch him muscle his way out of a tight spot on the mat and you’ll understand what I mean when I say this guy is one potently powerful little package!

Finally (for now), I just want to mention DJ’s tats. You know that classy, aesthetic tats are a major, major plus in my book. I love DJ’s tats. I’d love them in color even more, but the sunburst on his left pec and the fantastic turtle on his left shoulder are beautifully done. This is the quality of body artwork that makes me just one to reach out and lick it.

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Being Being Human

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So we’re 3 episodes into Being Human – American Redux. I’ve sat with this, because I don’t want to be impulsive (I’m trying something new). Here’s my take. Sally is the weakest link, here. I didn’t find Annie anywhere near as annoying as I find Sally.

The next-to-the-weakest link is Josh. Of course Sam Huntington was doomed to be compared to Russell Tovey, and as could be predicted, Sam doesn’t have the timing or cuteness or sexiness of Russell. In fact, to paraphrase myself, I didn’t find George anywhere near as annoying as I find Josh.
The strongest link, by far, is Aidan. I have no trouble at all believing that everyone he encounters wants to throw him to the floor and suck his cock, which is pretty much what the vampire mystique is about. 
He’s got sweet, sexy pecs and a sultry face with pouty lips. In some ways, he’s the least like his BBC counterpart, and perhaps that’s the key to why I’m liking him the most. I may even find his tormented addict on the wagon pathos perhaps even a tad more meaningful from Sam W. than from Aidan Turner. But don’t worry, Aidan (the actor, not the character), a hot Irish accent will always tip the balance Aidan’s way though in determining who I’d prefer to be bit by.

I cringe a little when SyFy promotional ads refer to this as “as original series.” I cringe a lot when I’m trolling for caps, watching the episodes online, and a straight Christian dating website is the primary advertiser (WTF?). But I’m firmly a fan of Being Human SyFy for a few reasons (beyond a desperate craving to see more of Sam W. naked). They American redux is already cleaning up some of the odd plot inconsistencies that the first run with BBC apparently didn’t notice (like Annie can pick up objects and move them around in BBC). They’re taking the time to bring the audience along, explaining carefully and conscientiously what we need to know about this version of vampires, werewolves, and ghosts that we might not have known from other iterations of them. They’re already working in more characters and more tension, even as they follow remarkably closely to the BBC script.

All told, and more to the point of this blog, this is absolutely heading to a Being Human Smackdown in a homoerotic wrestling universe near you. Russell and Aidan will be, without a doubt, climbing back into the ring together to face off with their wannabes-mini-me’s. I honestly don’t know how this will all turn out, but I predict that there will definitely be ear pulling, ass slapping, cock and pec clawing, and the sexual tension that both versions of this show effectively draw between the boys simply must be consummated. Stay tuned.

Free Will

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Addictions are serious stuff. I’m completely on board with all efforts to take control of one’s life and not allow addictive substances to steal one’s dignity or well-being. But frankly, I’m a little sketchy on “behavioral” addictions, like gambling or sex, if they don’t involve foreign substances that change brain chemistry. I’m certain that I will offend when I say it (and I accept complete responsibility for my decision to say something that may bring unpleasant consequences), but I think this “addictions ideology” we’ve built for ourselves for the past fifty years has grown into, at best, too often an excuse to refuse to accept responsibility for our own actions, and at worse, a particularly vile expression of self-righteous judgmentalism that both enforces narrow and rigid lines of social conformity and offers the tempting allure of transforming fully-functioning people into victims of a faceless fiction.
All this rant, really, is just my set up to point out the absurdity of “Porn Sunday.” Sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it? Well, it’s not. Because, like the name of the promoters of this bait-n-switch, Porn Sunday is an intentional deception. It’s the creation of a “church” devoted to combatting online porn. Through the discourse of “addictions,” these folks are offering the metaphorical apple of temptation. Take a bite. Accept the illusion that you’re a victim of evil forces outside your control. You couldn’t help yourself but watch porn, could you? You, poor soul, have been stripped of your free will, and turned into a tool of immoral vice.


Never has the the term Satan-in-a-Sunday-hat applied more literally, if you ask me. The marriage of Christian theology (which, let’s face it, is unapologetically pre-modern) and a modernist perception of enslaving addictions through genetics and/or brain chemistry has always been a troubled, mismatched relationship. Now, there’s plenty about the porn industry that I don’t care for. It took them way too long to care enough about their performers and their customers to address the risks of AIDS, for example. I’m a perennial critic of porn that promotes homophobia and self-hatred, for another example. But come on… there is no invisible hand clicking the computer mouse. There’s no external force unzipping your pants or pulling out… your wallet. We who consume porn do so for multiple reasons: it brings pleasure; it’s a diversion; it brings pleasure; it’s a sexual release; it brings pleasure, etc… That we are controlled by some external force that compels us to gaze at porn despite our better judgment has zero face validity.

“Porn Sunday,” for those who haven’t been tracking it, is this coming Sunday, to coincide with the Superbowl. Some NFL figures are signed up for the effort. Because if anyone has the moral high ground to critique the objectification of bodies that leads to compulsive behaviors that can harm, it’s professional athletes who are payed obscene amounts of money to engage in an activity upon which millions of dollars worth of (mostly illegal) gambling rides week in and week out, isn’t it? 
It’s not as if these very same athletes signing up for Porn Sunday have ever sold skin shots to convince consumers to shell out cash on unnecessary merchandise, is it? It’s not as if precisely these athletes have ever gone shirtless for softcore capitalist commodification of the hot, bare human body, in order to call up sexual lust in the interest of corporate profit, right?
And it’s not as if the NFL promotes unhealthy lifestyles, objectifying and valorizing artificially enhanced physiologies, unhealthy behaviors and self-destructive, self-defeating, unrealistic body images. It’s not as if the hypermasculinization of the NFL has ever contributed to violence or degradation of vulnerable people, right?
I, for one, will be celebrating Porn Sunday this Sunday by making a purchase from a site that features “adult-oriented subject matter,” and requires that I am of legal age and willingly requesting to receive electronic transmission of “adult-oriented material.” And I’ll do it because I don’t think it’s the internet, or porn, or pornboys, or the joy of gazing at beautiful bodies engaged in sex or (wrestling) foreplay that makes me, against my will, enjoy the celebration of sexuality, sex, and bodies. Instead, I’ve got a sex-positive spirituality and sexuality that lead me to believe that this creeping (and creepy) “addictions ideology” smacks an awful lot of the same puritanical, anti-body, anti-sex, anti-gay, anti-women, anti-embodiment politics that has plagued this country since its inception.
God, save me from the self-righteous hypocrites who would try to convince me to be ashamed of my sexuality, my lust, my love, or my body (or yours).

Just a Little Dickish

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I feel a little guilty about basking in the backyard sunshine with a good book this morning, after having watched the national news reports of the crippling “monster blizzard” encasing a third of the U.S. in ice and snow. I don’t think of where I live as a particularly weather-enviable location most of the time. But relatively speaking, today is awfully sweet for me and sucky for so many of you.

Rob Riches – for ES Swimwear

Of course there are a variety of strategies for dealing with winter weather blues. Some of us hunker down by the fire, crank up the heat, and do our best to appreciate the cozy intimacy of being trapped indoors. On the other hand, dreaming of warmer days and sun drenched bodies can help to take some of our minds off of the bitter chill of winter’s wrath.

David Costa – for ES Swimwear

You know full well that I’m not above being dickish or a punk, but in all sincerity, these images are intended as entertaining distraction from the icy grip of winter. I’m not trying to make anyone feel jealous or resentful by showing these fine, fine, fine specimens soaking in the summer sun.

Todd Sanfield – for DNA Magazine

Making note of my sunbathing in the backyard with a book this morning was, however, probably intentionally a little dickish. It’s just so rare that I have anything to brag about when it comes to weather.

Stay warm, everybody.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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I’m finding slim pickings for a strictly January new release option for my homoerotic wrestler of the month. BG East is between catalogs. I have trouble tracking exactly when to credit Can-Am’s new releases, so just in case I haven’t considered them, I’ll go ahead and include Chris Bruce, Donnie Drake, Rio Garza and Kyle Braun from Hollywood Mat Battles 1. Otherwise, I don’t think that Can-Am has anything new brewing for consideration. Thunder’s Arena has recently released Bodybuilder Battle 26 (and therefore nominating big, muscle bruisers Johnny Bravo and Conan), and Mat Wars 23 (nominating crossover RHW boy, Cody, along with Big Sexy, Tony, and Cage). And speaking of Rock Hard Wrestling, I’ll toss Brody Hancock in the running for his battle with Ethan (who I’m not even considering because he needs a haircut), as well as Jeff Hollister and Tyler Reeves for their sweaty face-off. Finally, I have to say that I thought Naked Kombat had some weak matches this month, so I’m only including veteran, Mr. Franchise himself, DJ and his tag team partner, rookie Brandon Bangs, for their January 12 destruction of Hayden Russo and Jake Austin, and DJ gets extra credit for showing up merely two weeks later for a singles rookie-crushing of carb-deprived Dragon.

There just isn’t the depth to this month’s field that I’ve enjoyed in recent months. That said, there’s just one standout wrestler in this relatively ho-hum crowd for me. Not that there aren’t some hard working performances represented in this month’s offerings, but for my money and my tastes, there’s one homoerotic wrestler who shines notably brighter than the rest this time around…

…DJ.

DJ has grown on me over time. He’s got an impressively long Naked Kombat fight record, and speaking of impressively long, his uncut, erect cock never ceases to bring a smile to my face. His tag team wrestling with rookie Brandon Bangs this month illustrated abundantly what makes him stand head and shoulders above the rest of the field for me. He’s one hot, hardworking, tenacious battler whose tight, slender body turns about 30.32 times sexier for me when he’s working his leverage on the mat. He’s quickly developed into a full-on veteran, with cool confidence and mat savvy along with a smart eye always on NK points, which, after all, is what it’s really all about at NK.

He’s also developed some fantastically sexy muscle tone. His hairy legs are looking thicker and more powerful just about every outing. He still has that stoned look about him, but somehow, now I take it as supreme, cocky self-confidence rather than… well, stoned. There’s nothing tweaked about his speed and focus on the mat. You can just see him mentally counting up his own NK points as he swiftly moves from subduing his opponents for riding time to sewing together a tapestry of sexual domination moves that NK rewards. A face sit, a ball claw, his fingers up his opponent’s ass, pec and ab punching, ass slapping… DJ knows what puts you on top for round 4, perhaps better than most any other.

DJ is also earning a second distinction from me. In addition to being January’s homoerotic wrestler of the month, he’s also clawed his way into the ranks of my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboys. Specifically, he’s landed himself into the top contender position. Readers who’ve been following my angst over learning that Rusty Stevens is out of “the biz” as of late last fall may not be surprised to learn that he’s been toppled completely out of the running, after reigning as my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy for almost 10 solid months. For crushing my lustful anticipation of more Rusty wrestling, Rusty has been figuratively picked up and slammed down in an over-the-knee backbreaker by my newly crowned champion, my brand new, first-time number one favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, with a body that makes me gasp, tats that make me marvel, and an all-in determination that makes me smile: Trent Diesel.

More of "It"

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The din of my work life is starting to drown out the rest of my life these days. Posts and new stories may be a little more sparse for a while, but I’m sure I’ll find some things that I just have to put into print. For example…

Superherofan reposted this clip from Ellen, in Alex Pettyfer’s debut talk show appearance in America. Truly, welcome, Alex! This kid is just adorable.

Alex’s shirtlessness comes up frequently in conversation (thanks, Ellen!). He’s pretty cool and suave about the whole thing to start with. He even accepts the invitation to strip out of his button up, starched white dress shirt in order to don Ellen’s gift of an “I ♡ Ellen” T.

Sweet mother of god, that boy has world class abs. He soaks in the screams of the fans with just a little twinge of self-consciousness to start with, but obviously, Alex knows what the paying public appreciates most about him.

But when Ellen toys with him, offering him the t-shirt and then pulling it away to make him stand shirtless under the stage lights a little longer, there appears to be the most adorable wave of self-consciousness wash over the Brit “It Boy” on the rise. He tries to grab the shirt, but when he realizes what Ellen is doing, he turns his back and lowers his head, looking genuinely embarrassed.

Ellen relents and hands the hunk the t-shirt, which he quickly squeezes into as he turns back to the frenzied audience. There’s just something completely adorable and human about the hunky kid that makes me swoon just a little. I know that there’s NOTHING unscripted in Hollywood. I know that this is precisely why they refer to these people as “actors.” But both Ellen and Alex sell this playful little scene of self-consciousness so well that I’m completely sucked in and rooting for him as if I was his personal sugar daddy. He’s welcome to consider me an adoring patron for the $11 I’ll most definitely be shelling out to see him in his upcoming sci-fi flick.

And this bonding moment makes me that much more excited to give my homoerotic superhero character, Arthur (with Alex’ body and face as model) the back story he’s got coming to him.