Author: wrestlebard

I'm a gay man with an active imagination.

Narcissus

wrestlebard4 Comments
According to Greek mythology, Narcissus was a devastatingly beautiful and proud mortal man who disdained those who loved him. When Narcissus glimpsed his own reflection in a pool, he was captured by the sight of his own beauty and slowly died unable to tear himself away from adoring his image.
It’s an ancient tale that survives today because it says something that’s timeless. Narcissus is a morality tale, most genuinely, warning against excessive pride and self-worship. On another level, it’s a story about the way things are at the heart of the human condition. We praise beauty. We idolize and idealize the beautiful. We worship beauty, and those in possession of an overabundance of socially reinforced standards of beauty fail to surprise us when they are clearly wrapped up in their worshiping within themselves that which others prize, praise, and worship in them.
Confession: I’m a sucker for a hardbodied narcissist who’s completely in love with himself. Sadly, that’s true in my personal life, but more to the point, it’s definitely true when it comes to the homoerotic wrestling that I dig. Self-worship is a succinct, well-trod tale in the wrestling ring. The opening scene of the narcissist soaking in the gorgeousness of his own reflection sets the table for countless battles. Sometimes the challenger arrives equally as self-adoring, and the match ensues as each adonis defends his claim to embody the pinnacle of beauty. The banter that centers around, “sure, you’re not so bad, but take a look at me!” works to establish the characters, define the terms of the contest, and begs the question of who the objective observer would select as the most beautiful of the beautiful. A delightful alternate ending to this tale is when both beauties are so evenly matched that slowly, eventually, the competition turns into mutual muscle worship.
Sometimes, the narcissist is met by a challenger less concerned with his own self-worship and more incited by contempt to attack and tear down the work of art before him. The battle is its own morality tale, determining the superiority of the aesthete or the athlete. When the phrase “pretty boy” pops up frequently in the ring, we see the psychological struggle to determine who is the superior man: the one with the stunning proportions and classic beauty, or the one built of rougher stuff filled with determination to mess up his opponent’s beautiful face. This story works swinging either direction, as far as I’m concerned. I’m no less a fan of the pretty boy beatdown than I am of the I-told-you-so narcissist victory.
The narcissist in the ring is a character that typically works for me. It’s probably a profound character flaw in me (which would explain a lot of my dating history), that I find a man deeply in love with the sight of his own beautiful body incredibly arousing. Now I’m completely engaged by a muscled stud who poses proudly to awe and intimidate his opponent (and you and me). But the hot side of beef who is stunningly beautiful, knows he’s stunningly beautiful, and just a little awed and aroused by his own stunning beauty, is a character I’m tragically drawn to.
I think it’s no coincidence that both Lon Dumont (my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler – nonpornboy) and Mr. Joshua Goodman (top contender for Lon’s title) are fantastic self-worshipers. Lon’s compact, competition-ready musclebod is sufficient to give me whiplash, but Lon’s delight in looking at himself propels him to the heights of homoeroticism in my book. Mr. Joshua is probably even more the epitome of the narcissist enamored his own gorgeous, crafted muscles and overabundant endowments. Win or lose, Joshua’s role is the stunning muscle stud who genuinely, passionately adores his own fantastic body and is ready to deploy his painstakingly toned muscles to demand from any opponent their concession to his superior beauty. It’s not hard for me to imagine that when Joshua’s eyes are closed in that moment just before orgasm, the image that fills his imagination is his own classically proportioned naked body.

I believe my pathological arousal for a self-loving hardbody probably also explains why Rafe Sanchez manages to keep rising to the surface of the homoerotic wrestling matches in my cue. Any and every match that I’ve seen with Rafe prominently features a healthy dose of Rafe self-love. Even when his opponent’s engage in Rafe-worship, it seems to only fuel Rafe’s arousal even more as he marvels at every beautiful inch (and he has plenty of inches) of his hot, tight body. And the more Rafe adores his gorgeous proportions and flexed muscles, the more I’m entirely at his mercy.

Even short of full on, characterological narcissism, just a lingering gaze a muscled wrestler gives his body is a major plus in my book. A classic babyface hero who can’t help but pause and marvel at his own massive bicep (Mitch Colby, I’m looking at you) is astonishingly erotic. In fact, I’d say that what gets plenty of people in the world diagnosed with a personality disorder is the very same thing that puts at least 75% of the homoerotic into my favorite homoerotic wrestling. So bring on the self-worshiping body beautiful muscle hunks in awe and obviously aroused by the sight of their own stunning bodies… I just can’t help myself.

15 Minutes

wrestlebardLeave a comment


I retitled this post several times before finally settling on “15 Minutes.” I also considered, “Burning Bright,” and “Here, There and Everywhere.” What to say to capture the moment of Rio Garza’s presence in the homoerotic wrestling world? From webcam boy to performer for every other wrestling company on the planet, Rio’s certainly come a long way.
I’m frequently chastised for overanalyzing the homoerotic wrestling industry. I don’t mind being chastised, though (throw in some bodyscissors and I quite enjoy it, in fact), so I’m going to arm-chair theorize with all due humility to those who actually produce homoerotic wrestling and perform as wrestlers (for whom I have nothing but respect). I think sweet, sexy, Latin heartthrob Rio Garza is presently significantly overexposed. After appearing in a head-to-head beatdown at the hands of Aryx Quinn last October for BG East, in April, he was the centerpiece of Can-Am’s Arena 3, getting double-teamed by a couple of Can-Am regulars before reprising his BGE 1-on-1 with Aryx.
July 2 of this year, Can-Am began releasing stills in their MAX forum of Rocking Rio, featuring Jobe Zander beating Rio this way and that on the mats. Not more than a day earlier, BGE began sales of The Breaking Point, with Jobe working over Rio’s crotch in the ring for their “sexier” chapter. It doesn’t appear you can pick up a DVD of Rocking Rio yet, but MAX subscribers can watch the first 3, 6-minute or so segments of the match in serial form.
Just 7 days ago, BGE posted a mid-summer between-catalog release of Rio in a forced to flex Undergear 16 tussle on the mats with the remarkable talents of Reese Wells. You may recall that these same two wrestlers met under different names just past January, battling in the ring as Ray Martinez and Brody Hancock for RockHardWrestling.


July 2, the same day that Rocking Rio pics were released on Can-Am Max, Can-Am also released preview pics of Hollywood Fight Club 3, again mixing up Rio with Jobe, Aryx, a handful of the usual Can-Am suspects, and a surprise Can-Am debut for BGE (and Thunder’s Arena) veteran Christopher Bruce.

In short, everywhere I turn I bump into another wrestling product with Rio, frequently pitted against the exact same wrestlers. From a complete outsider’s perspective, it appears to me that both Can-Am and BG East seem to hire their performers and film them in several matches in short order. BG East appears to then pace their releases, tantalizing fans with taste after taste over the period of months or a year. Can-Am’s strategy seems frequently to be to pump out multiple products with the same constellation of performers, saturating the market for the flavor of the month (see also Rusty Stevens, David Taylor, etc). I’m sure either strategy sells products. I don’t really think it’s a problem to see wrestlers working for competing operations (not at all, actually). What does seem to me to be a problem is when competing operations pump out the same wrestlers competing with the same opponents and releasing multiple products basically at the same time. Case in point: Rio Garza. For major Rio fans, this is probably hog heaven. Personally, I’m overdosing on Rio. There isn’t much opportunity for character or skill development when all his performances hit the market simultaneously. It’s just a Rio smorgasbord, well-suited to gluttons but perhaps not as pitched for wrestling kinksters more broadly. It’s like when Tommy Lee Jones was appearing in every third major movie to come out in 1993 and 1994 (stay with me on this analogy): sure, he’s an incredible actor, but when he’s everywhere in everything, what’s remarkable about his talent doesn’t seem so special.


Anyway, my very humble opinion is that Rio Garza is overexposed and in danger of burning out his market power. More troubling is the sense that competing wrestling companies are intentionally diluting the market by pumping out identical pairings at the same time. Suddenly, it’s as if there are only a half a dozen talented, beautiful homoerotic wrestlers to choose from. I vote for a multitude of wrestling operations to produce a variety of products featuring a diversity of beautiful and talented men. I also vote (with my dollars) for pacing, character and skill development, and more ring action… but that’s just my taste.

I’m a Twit

wrestlebardLeave a comment

It appears that I am crawling on my hands and knees into another corner of the virtual time-suck of social networking. I’ve had a Twitter account for a while, but haven’t managed to figure out what to do with it, really. It’s like a pet. Sure, there’s initial excitement and interest, but when that wears off, will I still feed it and clean up after it when it defecates in the back yard?

Okay, so perhaps the pet metaphor is a bit overdrawn. In any case, having released myself from the sense of obligation to post daily here starting last month (though I’ve pretty much been doing that anyway), I’ve reconsidered Twitter. The medium is probably completely passé now. Being a chronically late-adopter, I’m accustomed to running into the party just as everyone’s moving on to the next big scene. But I’m twitting now, and having a little fun with it.
I’ve set up my blog updates to be uploaded automatically. I’ll be posting about my writing projects, both in-process and recent uploads. I’ll probably try to restrict my political opinions to Twitter, in order to restrain myself to 140 characters and perhaps not blow a gasket, as I’m prone to do when I froth at the mouth, incensed at social injustice.
I’ve already found a few gems through Twitter that make me happy. The triathalon pic of Chris Cuomo and his ready-for-primetime pecs that I posted yesterday was a Twitter-find. This video of Carter Evans reporting for CNN popped up via a Twitter feed, and as readers of my wrestling fiction know well, I’m a major, huge, let-me-be-your-groupie fanatic of CNN heart throb Carter Evans and his bedroom eyes and deviated septum. The next time we see Carter do a report on swimming pools, though, he really needs to be wearing swimwear to lend credibility to the report.


At the moment, almost no one is following me on Twitter. I’m not surprised, since I’ve been actually using it only recently. But in case you’re a twitterer, look me up. I just showed up to the party, and I’ve found myself standing alone in the corner with drink in hand and no one schmooze with.

He’s Bringing Sexy Back

wrestlebard1 Comment

So Google tells me that the number one keyword reference for this blog is “wrestling.” That makes sense to me. Can you guess what the number 2 word is?

“Chris.” I find this pretty hilarious. Clearly, multiple posts referencing people like Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans play a part in this. But obviously, my recurring obsession with the travesty that was Good Morning America letting Chris Cuomo slip through their fingers most likely is the driving engine behind the keyword prominence of “Chris.”
Despite no longer getting a regular injection of Chris into my morning routine, I’m still a fan of Chris Cuomo. I tuned in last Friday to watch Chris guest-host GMA while George was out. Biggest crowd ever for a GMA summer concert turned out to catch a sight of Chris (okay, Black Eyed Peas also probably had a little to do with that). It was a little glimpse of the fine, fine world that could have been. Everyone was all smiles, laid back, comfortable. Sam Champion was giddy, and Chris was stringing him along with easy humor as always, like a good, hot, straight friend man-crush should.
I recently ran across this pic of Chris from the end of the New York Triathalon. Sweet man alive, look at the size of those pecs! Okay, now just try to tear your eyes away from them… I dare you. Can’t do it, can you? His nipple outlined through the fabric stretched taut across his left pec is such a sweet tease. When you can eventually refocus, you’ll also appreciate his massive shoulders and baseball biceps. Damn it! Now I’m obliged to write a new News Division match in my wrestling fiction.
ABC News is clearly led by fools. Every appearance Chris makes on GMA as their “legal expert,” and every time he’s tapped to substitute when the straight-laced little Greek is off set, they really ought to be playing him in with some Justin Timberlake. ‘Cause for those brief, glorious moments, he’s bringing Sexy Back (and those other motherfuckers don’t know how to act).

Going Crazy

wrestlebard3 Comments

Is it my imagination, or is BG East pumping out new releases (so to speak) with increasing frequency? I like the more frequent release of matches, and I love the on demand options. It holds my flea-like attention span better, and it more efficiently satisfies my need for instant gratification.

Speaking of gratification, have you seen Bobby Horton’s schooling of Tyrell Tomsen yet? This is another one of the moments when I’m happily surprised to discover that the “other guy” in the match turns out to be my new fixation. When it comes to Tyrell, I love studying his body nearly as much as Tyrell loves studying his body. I can never get enough of his naked ass in Strip Stakes 1. He’s got a beauty and a power that’s simply fantastic. I was drawn to Ring Rookies 3 to get a little Tyrell fix. What I found was Bobby Horton grabbing hold of my crank with both hands and turning it like a champ!
This is a classic tale of muscle/power/beauty versus speed/guile/skill. Both wrestlers do a nice job of telling this tale, and I’m sucked along for quite a while, unsure exactly who I’m hoping most will come out on top. I’ve only seen one other bout with Bobby, when he lays down a punk’s challenge to Mitch Colby (back when Mitch was still ranked my #1 favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy). But against Tyrell, Bobby opens up a pro-wrestling clinic that convinces me that he is much, much (much) more than a long-haired, bright-eyed-and-convinced-of-his-own-youthful-invincibility surferboy. He’s quick, decisive, and he pieces together some high class moves that take me completely by surprise.
His frequent low-class moves are actually just as entertaining, frankly. Bobby does exactly what it takes to neutralize Tyrell’s superior strength and momentum, and then he does quite a bit more to make the big man suffer. When Bobby refuses to accept Tyrell’s second fall submission until he uses the word “quit,” I gain an entirely new respect and lustful attraction for Bobby. He has a slightly-psychotic laugh that bubbles up with increasing frequency throughout this match, as he takes obvious delight in watching his bodybuilder boy opponent laid low and hurt. He wants to not only defeat Tyrell. He wants to hurt him, and to take a nice long time watching the muscle hunk writhe on the ground, suffering.
Finally, there’s just something that takes my breath away when a massive, gorgeous, cocky bodybuilder is laid out helplessly, and his smaller opponent poses proudly over top of him. Bobby’s not nearly as big as Tyrell, though there’s nothing at all unaesthetic about Bobby’s beautiful muscles. His biceps aren’t even close to being as thick and meaty, and his pecs look nearly adolescent (if you were a gym bunny as an adolescent) by comparison. But when Bobby struts and preens, flashing a double bi and crunching out a most muscular, his sliced up muscles are exactly what the doctor ordered. He sells that incredible moment where the massive bodybuilder can only look up in shock and disbelief as his punk-ass heel opponent shows him the trim fighting-machine that brought him to his knees. I’d like to lobby for more of sadistic, gorgeous Bobby as heel in the ring, taking more BGE hardbodies by surprise and humiliating them with sadistic, gleeful satisfaction! Who’s next!?

An English Thing

wrestlebardLeave a comment
Brit go-go boy and wrestling fanatic Chris Geary has posted pics and brief preview clips of two new beautiful boys posing and wrestling. Personally, I miss seeing more of Chris in front of the camera, particularly when he gets his muscled ass kicked and humiliated. Don’t get me wrong, I love his work. I just particularly love his work when he’s in front of the camera and getting his muscled ass kicked and humiliated.
I was tracking Chris and enjoying his website before he opened up his pay-site on the side, HorneyModelBoys.com. I completely understand the notion of the gay wrestling kink connoisseur and dabbler going entrepreneurial, but I’m a little sad that there’s so much fun wrestling out there and my personal finances are relatively so limited. I dinked around in HorneyModelBoys.com for a while. Had fun with it. But I redirected my pennies elsewhere to pursue more frequent updates.
Chris has posted a new wrestling update featuring purported straightboys Rowan and Paul. I say “purported” just because I’m feeling a little catty. I don’t really care what they call themselves. Beautiful, hardbodied boys wrestling naked in oil is homoerotic, regardless of whether the boys identify as homo or not. Still, why is it I never meet these knock-down gorgeous muscle stud straightboys who are happy to have me film them wrestling naked, jerking off, showing their asses, and letting me handle their goods? Perhaps I need to move to the England. This is an English thing, right? You UK readers can tell me, this happens to you all the time, right?

Anyhow… Chris has a good eye for beauty, as evidenced by Rowan and Paul. Paul is a tad beefier and inked, but I have to say Rowan is sending me into fits. Those abs need caution tape up around them, because their cut so sharply someone could get hurt!

I’m just tasting the appetizer, so someone with a HornyModelBoys subscription needs to tell me how the main course tastes. Typically, Chris’ wrestling boys are a little weak on the wrestling and the action is a bit choppy and slow paced. But I’m a sucker for most any hard, naked hunk grappling in oil and showing off.
I’m serious now. Where do I find these incredibly gorgeous, exhibitionist straight boys willing to strip naked, get oiled up, and wrestle for me on camera?

Recaps, Goodbyes, and Till-We-Meet-Agains

wrestlebardLeave a comment
I’m happily making headway on the final match of the Secretarial Pool auditions. Those of you not particularly following the story in my wrestling fiction may be a bit bored with my postings on the topic, but I’m finding that getting my imagination fully engaged with these boys intensely and repeatedly to write this elimination tournament is quite an intimate experience. Even when I’m not writing about them, I catch myself thinking about them. If you haven’t read a match yet, be forewarned that today’s post is a post-mortem on the also-rans whose fates have already been decided in the unfolding story in my wrestling fiction.
Of course, it helps that these boys are gorgeous hunks of muscle. Try to squeeze Alan Ritchson’s bubble butt into a skimpy speedo, and I’m doomed to ruminate on him. Alan was the first to get his ass kicked out of the tournament. He was nothing if not overconfident in his first round match up. He assumed that Jared Prudoff was going to be a pushover, little more than a rung in the ladder that Alan would be climbing up to grab the brass ring. Little did Alan realize that he’d drawn perhaps the shortest straw in the bunch, going head to head with the competitor that would be the first to clinch a spot in the finals of the tournament. In typical Jared-style, Alan was suckered, drained, and then put away wet. I imagine him, these days, lounging by a pool, obsessively replaying what went wrong for him in his bid for a recurring role in the world of my wrestling imagination.


The next slab of beef kicked to the curb in the tournament was Jakub Stefano. Jakub was seriously difficult for me to let go of, after Nick Auger schooled him so viciously in the importance of committing to a job and seeing it through all the way to the end. In my imagination, at least, Jakub is quite a sympathetic character. He’s a surprisingly gentle giant, genetically gifted with the body of a god, but more comfortable with being worshipped than with using those muscles to dominate. I fondly picture Jakub these days with a splint around his broken finger, enthusiastically self-worshiping in the shower, perhaps more than a little turned on by the vivid memory of finding himself entirely at the mercy of eventual tournament finalist Nick.

Next out the door was the big, confident power of Sean Sullivan. Sean was also particularly difficult for me to see exit the tournament. Sean may have been a little distracted by setting his initial sights on Ellis McCreadie. Sean thought that he had his first round match all sewn up, with an underhanded ambush to start with and his relentless, dominating power to subdue fashion boy Rafael Verga. He seriously did not see it coming when Rafael entirely derailed him with tongue-wrestling as a prelude to stripping Sean naked and spreading his legs wide with Rafael’s foot poised on top of Sean’s balls. I imagine Sean still can’t quite believe that he was beaten, and he lives in fear that the story of his humiliating stripping and beating will get out.

The final first round loser was the Kerry Degman. Kerry’s speed and skill were entirely unmatched by his opponent, Ellis McCreadie. Kerry had his way with Ellis, nearly from the beginning to the end of the match. Kerry had Ellis completely at his mercy repeatedly, from taking him to the brink of unconsciousness with Kerry’s ass smothering his face, to back to back rapid-fire suplexes, Kerry put together a can’t-miss game plan to secure victory. Somehow, still, he missed. By sheer, dumb luck, Ellis managed to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat just as he planted his own victorious cock inside the jaws of his beaten opponent. I can’t help but think that Kerry’s skill and beauty won’t stay down for long, and despite this set back, he has all the right assets to thrive in the postmodern world of my imagination.

The semi-finals were populated by competitors that I was loathe to see knocked out of contention. I could imagine dozens of fights starring the devastatingly handsome Rafael Verga, for example, and never get tired of setting him loose on still one more opponent. Like Alan in the first round, though, Rafael ran into the buzz saw of finalist Jared. Still, the way I picture him, Rafael is sexually irrepressible, devastating with strikes, and thoroughly miserable to have been humiliated at the hands of Jared (said hands clawing at Rafael’s balls as he was captured in an over-the-knee-backbreaker). Some time away, fishing shirtless and meditating on the direction of his life and career, are likely in order for the Brazilian beauty.

First to get an invitation to the tournament and last to be eliminated prior to the final match, Ellis McCreadie is another beautiful boy that’s hard to say goodbye to. Ellis survival into the semi-finals was as mysterious as the source of the call inviting him to claim a spot in the auditions. Ellis took a lot of punishment from start to finish, even prior to walking into the rec room, and still he managed to rise way above expectations. His victory lap after forcing a submission from Kerry Degman in round one gave just a hint of what sort of fighter a seriously confident Ellis could turn into. Much more than confidence, strength or skill, what Ellis excelled in was in bringing a stunning string of luck to bear upon his matches. That, paired with his ability to endure prolonged, humiliating punishment, gave him staying power that’s hard to part with. I imagine Ellis will continue to ride his incredible string of good luck to land on his feet, despite submitting in a seated rear choke under threat of being plowed unconscious by finalist and muscleboy extraordinaire, Nick.

Frankly, I strongly suspect you’ll be seeing at least a couple of these worthy competitors again, considering the difficulty I have in saying goodbye to them. I’ll be publishing the final contest pitting Nick against Jared shortly, finally bringing to a close the long, slow unfolding of this tournament of champions. The only thing to count on at this point is that there will be one last goodbye before the auditions are history.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

wrestlebardLeave a comment

In my continuing efforts to spread the love, I’ve decided to highlight a “homoerotic wrestler of the month.” While I’ll continue to track the tugs and pulls at my heart for reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (pornboy and nonpornboy divisions), I’d also like to promote the efforts month in and month out of the hard-working wrestlers and production companies fueling our fantasies. My hope is to give a shout out to a homoerotic wrestler who catches my eye, starring in a freshly released production in the previous calendar month. Now this “-of-the-month” may end up favoring specific wrestling companies that put out new material more frequently than others. Thems-the-breaks. Pornboys and nonpornboys are eligible, and any company that I can keep up with will be in the running each month, as long as they’re putting out new material.

My inaugural homoerotic wrestler of the month for his original performance released over the past month is Naked Kombat’s Trent Diesel: 6’0, 185 pounds, blond, with hot, classy ink, and definitely in the pornboy division (as evidenced by his name).
Trent earns the title as homoerotic wrestler of the month for his July 7th release on the NK site, in which it takes two opponents to manage to last just one match against Trent. In his first-first round against veteran Patrick Rouge, Trent lowers the boom and tweaks Patrick’s neck enough to send him packing.
Stuck with an abbreviated forfeit, NK found Alex Slater to show up another day and pick up the action against Trent. Thing is, Trent spanked Alex’ ass up and down, forward and backwards, coming and going, so much so that Alex could only manage 3 rather than the standard 4 rounds against Trent. Thus, this release required two wrestlers to go the full 4 rounds with my homoerotic wrestler of the month.
Needless to say, Trent comes out on top against Alex as well. I like Trent’s look. His face is handsome. His tats are gorgeous. His body is fantastic and fit. There’s just something about his legs that push me over the top, particularly when naked and squeezing his opponent between them. Trent’s record is 2-0 on NK, and with a few more appearances on the same trajectory as his first two, Trent could definitely be a contender to knock Mitch Colby out of his #1 Contender spot for my running favorite homoerotic wrestler pornboy. With the way he’s dispatched his first three challengers, I hope NK doesn’t run out of competitors willing to take a shot at him!

Powerful Luck

wrestlebard2 Comments
I’m happy that my writer’s block seems to have been unblocked lately. My commitment to pick away at the Secretarial Pool auditions regularly until they’re done is paying off. Happily, I’ve just posted he last semi-final match, pitting the unlikely pair of fitness muscle giant Nick Auger against doe-eyed underwear model, mop-headed Ellis McCreadie.
Some of you may remember way, way back when the votes were counted for the Secretarial Pool applicants, that Ellis got a pass into the elite eight without going up for a vote. It seems that the other competitors in the competition didn’t take kindly to such favoritism, and they’ve all been gunning to beat out of Ellis the secret to how he got a direct invitation while everyone else had to face the somewhat humiliating process of vying for popular votes.
Nick makes this job number one as he steps into the rec room with Ellis. Ellis has a string of remarkable, dumb luck behind him, propelling him a breath away from being one of the finalists. Nick is one big, big (big) boy who was overwhelmingly the fan favorite in voting, just as he’s been pretty physically overwhelming in the competition thus far. Dumb luck pitted against overwhelming muscle makes for the story in the new match in my wrestling fiction.


Jared Prudoff can’t wait to see who steps out of the rec room and into the final round with him.

Hard To Beat

wrestlebardLeave a comment

I’m not a subtle person. By and large, I tend to say what’s on my mind. So when I realize that I have no more then two postings featuring Daniel Craig in the year that I’ve been blogging about beautiful men that turn me on, I realize something’s gone terribly wrong. Without a doubt, Daniel Craig is on my mind much, much more often than that. In fact, I’d have to say that I think he’s just about my favorite gorgeous movie actor on screen these days. Why it is this is only the third time for me to mention him here is beyond me.
The specific occasion for his mention here is that apparently he got the call to star as Michael Blomqvist in the Hollywood rendition of The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. This makes me happy on so many different counts. For one, anything that gets Daniel’s baby-blues and pouty lower-lip screen time works for me. For another, as someone who enjoyed the book, I know that Blomqvist has a lot of sex in the book, offering an abundance of opportunities for Hollywood to show off Daniel’s rocking body. For still another reason, I have a soft spot for all things Swedish.
The whole situation begs the question, though, as to why cast Daniel Craig as a Swedish media critic journalist. Yet again, a thoroughly Swedish movie character gets tossed to a non-Swede. My Swedish friends will likely have bitter words to say about this, though I haven’t talked with them yet. In this particular case, I’m not sure I’ll really have all that much sympathy for them. It’s Daniel Craig, for God’s sake! He’s a blue-eyed, blond stud puppy. Despite being a tad short among the Norse giants, Daniel would blend in on the streets of Stockholm nicely, I’d have to imagine. And I don’t think there’s any question as to why Daniel would want the part. It’s a good story. It’s continued to rage across book clubs for the past several years. And, without giving away too much for those who haven’t read it, I think he’ll have an opportunity to bring us all to our knees again, similarly to his tie-me-up-and-beat-my-balls scene from Casino Royale (ahhh, good times).
And speaking of Daniel naked, sweaty, and bruised, all this also brings to mind one of the many loose ends in my celebrity wrestling fiction. It’s not that I endeavor to tie up all loose ends, by any means. Keeping ends loose keeps me exercising my imagination and writing more. But still, Daniel in the news reminds me that he’s part of an old storyline that’s still unresolved. One of the very first matches I wrote pitted Daniel against Christian Bale. With an axe to grind, Daniel humiliated Christian by grinding his cock into his face as Daniel did naked push ups over top of him (among other humiliations). Christian has been determined to earn a rematch, once he’s taken care of some work assignments that Eli Brody has handed him. Since then, Christian’s star has been on the rise, raising the possibility that when the two finally meet again, Daniel may not be able to manhandle him quite as easily as he did the first time.

Who knows. Perhaps there may be some Swedish hunks who’ll be demanding to defend their national honor against the would-be Michael Blomqvist, as well. A word to all comers, though. In my imagination, this blue-eyed, blond haired, pouty lipped, pec-tacular muscleboy is hard to beat.