Author: wrestlebard

I'm a gay man with an active imagination.

A Tie Is Not a Win

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I’ve gushed about Portuguese footballer bodybeautiful Cristiano Ronaldo before. His thick, vascular legs are built for nothing if not for an oil wrestling match up featuring some doomed hopeful getting his skull crushed between them. Now Nike has an interesting behind the scenes montage featuring Cristiano in the locker room. It’s not nearly as salacious as it might sound, but his swagger as he makes his way through his world is sweetly cocky. This looks like a man who believes every worshipful word written about him. Which reminds me: Cristiano Ronaldo will truly become a superstar only once he shows up for a wrestling match with me in my backyard (there, it’s written… he must believe it).

Since I believe everything in writing, also, I must believe the report from the New York Post that Cristiano was fuming at Vanity Fair for forcing him to share his underwear-only cover with Ivory Coast rival football hottie, Didier Drogba. Considering the Ivory Coast/Portugal World Cup opener ended in a 0-0 tie, I smell an All-Star hardbody fued that will surely only be settled in a private jock strap match in my homoerotic wrestling imagination.

Giving Good Face

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Bradley Cooper sent many a hearts a fluttering, at least in the stills released for the dubiously conceived A-Team movie. Bradley has a little more grit-look about him than the original Face, Dirk Benedict. I had many a fantasy about Dirk Benedict as a kid (hey, I think I smell a What Turned Me Gay posting coming on…). Bradley’s fantastic, long, fit body is sweet enticement to relive my youth, but I’m holding out for the DVD release.


Bradley has already made an appearance in my wrestling fantasies. He was in a three-way battle with Justin Timberlake and Ryan Reynolds for the Green Lantern feature soon-to-be released, which translated into him being in a three-way, balls out battle of domination between the same three hardbodies in the world of my wrestling fiction. Bradley strikes me as a hunk with smarts, and he brought a winning game plan into the arena with Justin and Ryan. Sadly for him, the execution wasn’t quite as winning as the game plan. The point at which Ryan has Bradley in a kneeling rear choke, and then takes the opportunity to twist his neck around to lick the sweat off of Bradley’s cheek, it’s all win-win-win from that point forward for me.
With nice beefy pics of Bradley as Face, I could definitely imagine him needing another shot in the Producer’s Ring. Alpha Dogs should always go to the head of the line for a second chance at glory in my homoerotic imagination.

The Wrong Beach

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While the remaining pool of applicants in the Secretarial Pool auditions take a rest for a little while longer, my eye has been captured by a new modelboy crush.

Steven Patenaude is his name. He’s apparently a Seattle-based male model with über pouty lips, a smokin’ smooth body, and fantastically hot tattoos. At least, the tats look fantastic for what I’ve seen of them. I’m still looking for a full on shot of Steven from the back… preferably naked, but I’ll take what I can get.
As opposed to the massively muscled boys that often capture my attention, Steven looks more shredded/whipcord, which is no less intoxicating for me. Steven could be in the pipeline for a feature role in the Secretarial Pool himself someday. Those legs may be thin, but they look to me like they could crack coconuts.
The shots I’m finding of him oiled up and enjoying the beach just put me in the summertime mood. Why don’t I see stunning male models in their underwear hanging out at the beach? Clearly, I’m going to the wrong beaches. I’m off to try a new beach, in search of hot n’ spicy, nearly nude bodies like sweet Steven.

No Comparison

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This was Zac Efron at the beach a year and a half ago. Now I don’t have anything against twinks in general. But this just doesn’t make me sit up and take notice. There’s a little too much pubescence at work here for my tastes.

Here’s Zac at the beach a couple of weeks ago. I’m taking notice. He’s still on the twink side of the hot boy spectrum, but he’s put on some serious muscle poundage in the last year and a half. His lats alone give this a definitively post-pubescent shape that is much more my taste. Towleroad refers to this as Zac’s “Daniel Craig moment,” I assume in reference to Daniel’s iconic image emerging from the surf layered in slabs of beef that make even straight men have to adjust their pants.

So I wouldn’t go quite so far as to say Zac’s recent pics are somehow comparable to Daniel Craig’s 007 hotness. In fact, if I were Mr. Craig, I might take offense at the comparison. Hell, I might even have to go so far as to insist on teaching the young muscle twink a lesson in bare naked bath house NHB celebrity wrestling.
Daniel is undefeated and, frankly, untouched in my homoerotic wrestling fiction. Zac, on the other hand, is 0-1, having suffered a crushed nose as a result of James McAvoy’s facebuster with a cum shot to the face finisher, just for good measure. True, James is my undefeated lightweight buzzsaw, but is any twink so naive as to believe that he could stand face to face with the longshoreman pornbody muscles of Daniel Craig? I think I could imagine that…

Aussie Dreams

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I’m in an Aussie sort of mood, and what better way to appeal to an Aussie sort of mood than naked Hugh Jackman? Hugh has made two appearances in my wrestling fiction, once going pec to pec with Daniel Craig and once as a guest referee with is thumb on the scales (sneaky bastard).

Hugh’s appearance in X-Men Origins: Wolverine was nearly more tease than I could handle. The implication was that there was plenty of muscleman Hugh nakedness, but it was all so coy and lasted little more than two frames at a time. Still, I have HD and a pause button, and what I see is a stunning specimen of bulging Aussie muscles.

There’s even a little wrestling kinkster payoff in the movie, if you’re patient. He starts off boxing with a superhuman size/strength mutant in order to win some information from him. In a clean boxing match, Wolverine/Hugh is completely outmatched. Like any good heel, he doesn’t let that stand between him and victory.
Tossing the gloves, Wolverine/Hugh leaps up to the turnbuckle, launches himself through the air, and drops a licktastic, muscle pumped, vein popping elbow down on his opponent’s head. The shape that Hugh got into for this movie is incredible, and there’s nothing to be done but to worship this man. Watching him ham it up pro-wrestling style only confirms what I’ve known for some time: that Hugh is a man of my wrestling fantasies.
Sweaty, veins bulging, hairy beast that he is, Hugh must be worshipped. Or, if you’re Daniel Craig starring in my wrestling fantasies, Hugh must be pec clawed with his face smashed deep up your gorgeous English musclebutt. Either way, it’s a win-win for me (and Hugh, the way I write him).

Any Day, Anytime

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I completely get it why some of you aren’t going to find these beach pics of Christopher Meloni hot. I think you’re absolutely missing out on some fine, gorgeous man-worship, but I get it. He’s looking a little bloated around the middle. I think it’s the fault of a poor choice of trunks, though. You can still see the outline of his hot muscled abs. Absolutely gorgeous hunk of man meat here, so if you don’t get that, mores for me to love.
Nothing about Christopher Meloni fails to ooze sexy. Did you see Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle? I swear to you, before I recognized that it was Christopher, I saw him in his grotesque, horror flick inbred freak get up (literally named, “Freakshow”), and I thought to myself, “That’s one gorgeous hunk of man disguised under all that makeup.”
It took me about a minute of listening to his voice before I nailed it. Yes, that’s a man straight out of my fantasies.


Christopher has a recurring character role in my homoerotic wrestling fantasies. He has a nasty attitude. He cheats whenever he needs to and can get away with it. He’s sent more than one young buck hopeful to the hospital. And slowly, so slowly, he’s finally been tamed and is turning into a blunt tool of the producer’s for punishing young muscle stars who’ve grown too big for their britches.

Yes, oh yes. I’d climb into the ring with that any day, anytime.

Promises Kept

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I’ve been hard on poor Zack Johnathan (aka Zack Vazquez) in the past. Of course, he’s deserved it. He’s ruined more than a few wrestling matches that I’ve been hot to watch, due to his poor salesmanship, his shit-eating self-conscious grinning, and his weakness in delivering or taking receipt on punishment in any convincing way. His body is incredible, but he’s been getting on my nerves in the ring.
I’m so pleased to report that Zack has entertained me pretty much from start to finish in his latest match for Rock Hard Wrestling. I’d have given this pitch a pass if it hadn’t been for my complete trust in the bulls eye delivery of Zack’s opponent, Brody Hancock (aka Reese Wells). This is a “revenge” match after Brody appropriately punished the model boy early in RHW’s inception. Zack arrives ready to even the score.
And shock of shocks, Zack delivers!!! His banter is much less self-conscious. He occasionally lets that shit-eating grin peek out, but he pretty quickly twists it into a focused, dominating sneer every time. And Zack’s wrestling is significantly improved, in my opinion. Zack delivers combination holds like a pro. Early in the match, he yanks boy-Brody off his feet by his throat, suspending him over his head in a sweetly convincing choke. Then smooth as silk, Zack slides Brody’s body down his own into a confidently snapped-on high bearhug. And without too much melodrama, Zack quickly sprints across the ring and drives Brody’s back into the turnbuckle. This is way more delivery and skill than I’ve come to expect from Zack.
Of course, by no means is this sale all about Zack. Dependably, Brody works this match with like the hard, hot workhorse he always is. His gear is a distinct improvement, and I’m thinking Brody is packing on some more muscle on that whipcord body that he’s making good use of. In answer to Zack’s cocky taunt, “How did you like my choke?,” Brody answers by raking Zack’s eyes across the top rope and demanding, “What did you think of that, huh?!” Later in the match, Brody has Zack pinned chest-first in the ropes, at which point he reaches over Zack’s head and shoves his fingers into the model boy’s nostrils, prying Zack’s nose upward. The gratuitous baseball pump at the end of round one illustrates the marvels of Brody’s beautiful body, though I have to note that he’s packing on enough muscle that I’m no longer wondering where he’s hiding those guns.
But still, for all the crap I’ve given Zack, I just have to say again that he just about redeems himself in this match. He’s working hard and innovating, such as countering a camel clutch by muscling his way to his feet with Brody still clamped to his back. Zack’s boston crab tapout submission totally sells me in a way that I just haven’t bought Zack’s submissions in the past. His kicks to Brody’s hamstring and smooth transition to a figure-4 leglock are polished. Even a blown gambit inside-outside the ropes suplex reversal manages to sort itself out without too much stretch of the imagination.
My one remaining complaint is a bit of off camera audio assistance that I’m finding distracting. Again I say, if the production quality wasn’t so excellent here, perhaps they could get away with some sound effects, but the picture is just too crystal to manage artificially-enhanced blows. Both boys are stomping and pounding pretty damn effectively on their own, so I really don’t think it’s at all necessary, at least not with these two. Zack as a serious contender is so nice to see. Our little boy is growing up, and his delivery of one of my all time favorite holds near the end of the match is commanding, convincing, and sweetly erotic, dominating, and humiliating. Nice work, Zack.

Ink from Behind

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Back ink works for me. Particularly a broad, muscled back makes for arguably the best canvas on the body. When utilized well, the body perfectly compliments the art and the art perfectly compliments the body. Case in point is perennial tat-boy favorite, muscle wrestler masochist extraordinaire and still in the running for my favorite homoerotic pornboy wrestling favorite rankings, Derek Da Silva. Every inch of Derek is astonishingly hot, but I could sit and stare at him from behind for days on end… okay, okay, his fantastic bubble butt is at least 30% of that, but most of the appeal is his broad, powerfully muscled, gorgeously inked back, especially when it has a sheen of fresh sweat… and he’s sitting on someone’s face.

Tattooed Hunks gives me a nearly daily fix of hunk ink, and I’m always particularly excited when some hot back art pops up. There’s just something intensely sexual about back ink. It’s obviously not something that the inked hunk himself can really admire, at least not conveniently. Rather, it’s an intensely personal text for the lucky boy who gets to see him stripped from behind. This is the view that you get when you’re on top, looking down at his stretched out back, your hips positioned against (and pumping) his ass. This is the essence of erotic intimacy – beautiful aesthetics paired with orgasm.

I’m a sucker for colorful ink. To whomever could send me some full on pics of this young stud’s artwork, I’d owe you bigtime. Not that there’s anything wrong with this view. Tats like this that traverse traditional modesty lines drive me insane. The back ink that stretches down onto his ass cheek simply demands that he unbuckle that belt and slide his cheek out from underneath his pants. That’s what good ink does anywhere, I think. It involves the whole body in telling a story. It draws the eye across the lines of muscle and ink, calling to you to feel, admire, and worship the beautiful male form.

Next to Appear on My Credit Card Statement

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Last week I mentioned (not for the first time) my love-hate relationship with Mr. Joshua Goodman’s crotch. Just to taunt and tease me viciously, in the last BG East Arena update, there are preview pics of the upcoming match with Mr. Joshua’s crotch (and the rest of him).

It looks like Mr. Joshua will square off against erotic never-say-die twinkboy on the rise, Austin Raines. The product is another in the Demolition series, and from the preview pics, I’m not entirely sure who gets demolished. Both boys look like they get some licks in (metaphorically speaking). And there are several, lingering shots of Mr. Joshua with his hand shoved down the front of his trunks, making my eyes water just a bit (as always).
This looks like it may be a step up the homoerotic scale a bit, though. It looks like both Austin and Mr. Joshua treat one another to some painful ball claws (and that’s got to be quite a handful for Austin to handle!). Perhaps even more enticing, it looks like Mr. Joshua may finally be seriously rubbing his opponent’s face in it. Where do I get in line for that ride?
Match 3 on the same DVD looks like it features Lon Dumont destroying a baby-baby-baby face. KL made my day over at the yahoo group for BGE Headquarters, letting us know that this product is available for sale even prior to the new catalog release. I can already hear the shuffle of dollar bills escaping my wallet…

More Swedish Delights

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Did you catch the story in the NYT in which Swedish/Seattle soccer beauty and underwear model extraordinaire Freddie Ljungberg says that he’s proud to be the subject of gay rumors? What’s with all the athletes rocking the pro-gay message lately? Nice work boys.

Freddie holds a particularly beloved spot in my heart for many reasons. First of all, he’s a stunningly gorgeous boy. Look at those cheek bones! … I said the cheek bones, not his oiled, muscled torso. Oh, okay, look at the oiled muscle torso. It’s all proving the same point. He’s stunningly beautiful. Score one for the knockout Swede.
Speaking of knockout Swedes, he’s also a favorite of mine for his appearance in my homoerotic wrestling fiction. He’s actually made two appearances there, first with countryman Alexander Skarsgård at his back as Freddie faced off with underwear model challenger David Beckham in the inaugural match of the All-Stars. Not to spoil the suspense for anyone who’d like to read it, but the match includes a favored image of mine of Freddie’s head trapped in a front-to-back figure-4 headlock, his face getting smashed into David’s ass, just before he escapes the humiliating hold with a nasty ball claw (good times!). Freddie’s second appearance comes in the midst of “contract renegotiations,” as part of the multi-chapter unraveling of executive assistant Andrew’s career (which in turn, set up the current Secretarial Pool auditions to replace him). So, all told, Freddie’s been at the pivot point of more than one wrestling fantasy of mine.
Freddie also owns a warm and fuzzy (okay, hot and hard) spot for me due to his tattooing. Freddie’s tats are tasteful, and a peekabo tat at the waist is over the top erotic. How can you not just desperately need to yank the waistband of his underwear down to see the rest of that tiger (which you absolutely know must be the nickname for his cock)?
Finally, as if Freddie needed any further eroticizing, he’s also an Alpha Dog. The pic of him sitting on the dock in Seattle with his Newfoundland makes me desperate to tackle the Swede and rip his clothes off him… except for the boots. A grappling session with a naked, sexually secure Freddie wearing only his black work boots is my idea of streets lined with gold!