It blows my mind that it’s been over two weeks since I last posted here at neverland. So much has happened! I had an upper respiratory infection that, combined with my asthma, put me on my ass hard (no worries, all is well now). I completed my taxes and am now anxiously awaiting a refund. Facebook reminded everyone that yesterday was my birthday, and my thanks to all of you who wished me well. And to those of you who didn’t, don’t think I didn’t notice (just kidding… I’m the worst offender when it comes to missing birthdays). Actually, I got this sweet slice of hotness from Ty Alexander, who took my hint that I’m driven a little wild by a hot boy in wrestling gear and specs.
Specs, speedos, and a personalized birthday wish just for me!
And I should acknowledge that Drake Marcos sent me greetings and said he still had my Christmas present, which he offered to re-gift it into my birthday present if I wanted. Between you and me, I think this “gift” of his is all in his imagination, just like his promise to some day score a victory over an opponent. But if it’s the thought that counts, then the Cheshire Cat of Homoerotic Wrestling gets credit for creativity, if nothing else.
As to the central premise of neverland (hot homoerotic wrestling) I’m just now getting around to marveling at the gold mine that is BG East’s drop of catalog 103, Talk about a feast of mouthwatering goodness! I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say in the near future about several of these choice pieces of hotness. In the mean time, I’m looking forward to another year of breathing, another year of sucking down the best homoerotic wrestling I can get my hands on, and another year of broadcasting this inner monologue for your enjoyment.
I love the fact that BG East makes periodic excursions to the United Kingdom to scout out the hot wresting meat on that side of the Atlantic. The extended reach of BG East vicariously extends my appreciation for the breadth and depth of homoerotic wrestling, pulling me, at least occasionally, out of my provincial assumptions that have been pounded into me my entire life that the United States is the center of the universe. There are many of the Brit-finds from BG East that spark my imagination and generate a conditioned response in my crotch to an English accent growling, “Like that?” Yes, yes indeed. I like that.
Chris Xaos is one of the homoerotic wrestlers from across the pond who has squeezed his hot body into my homoerotic wrestling fantasies and put down permanent roots in my imagination. Early in his career, there was a brash, tatted, pierced street punk hit that I got off of him that was tasty. The official story is that he was discovered in a pub by Brit veteran wrestler Ty Garrison, or, rather, Chris “discovered” that he recognized Garrison and immediately let him know that he’d always wanted to have a go at him.
In other words, Chris Xaos was one of us long before BG East fans first got a look at the 6’1″, 170 lbs grappler. There was instantly something magnetic about him the first time I saw him wrestle. Despite his chaotic name, there’s a passionate, fierce methodology about him. He wrestles straightforward, always with a playful edge, and always paired with a dangerousness that is unmistakable. The stud is big and strong enough, and he delights in dominating enough, to do serious damage to any opponent not ready to match him throw for throw.
In his more recent releases, Chris has appeared more mature and with a goatee, both factors that exponentiate his magnetism for me. He officially graduated from boy to man when he showed up against fellow British fantasyman and favorite of mine, Rob Chandler in Motel Madness UK. That match is one of the most intimate, hottest motel matches ever produced. Chandler’s hard-on straining the fabric of his trunks alone signals exactly what the action is doing to me. The only thing missing is a bottle of baby oil and me!
There’s a rawness and ferocity about BG East’s British collection that is incredible, particularly as it’s paired with the variety of Brit and European accents that I, like so many Americans, find entrancing. Chris Xaos is all of those adjectives: raw, fierce, and entrancing. I only wish we could get him a green card to work more regularly on this side of the pond.
Today’s focus on fashion is a bit of a departure from the typical neverland Friday Fashion polls. I couldn’t help but notice on Facebook that Ty Alexander has quite a “thing” about selfies in an astonishingly diverse variety of wrestling gear. Through back channels, the BG East newbie stud confirmed that he goes crazy for gear and has an incredibly extensive collection of gear and even more extensive collection of self-portraits showing off the gear. So for today’s Friday Fashion installment, I sat down with the “Christian Lacroix of homoerotic wrestling” to get a little fashion advice from a studied aficionado.
Ty Alexander (5’7″, 150 lbs) is feeling, and looking, healthy.
Bard: Damn boy, you’re looking tastier by the minute. Is it my imagination, or are you pounding that pretty body into better and better shape?
Ty: Yep I have been working hard at the gym every day. Trying to stay healthy. And thanks, by the way. Appreciate the compliment.
Plenty to compliment.
Bard: Healthy looks really great on you! So how many items of wrestling gear do you own?
“Not even half” of Ty’s collection of wrestling gear!
Ty: Hmmm. Honestly, if I could give you a number I would. Best guess would have to be over 150. [laughing] I literally have all kinds of gear. Pro trunks, singlets, briefs, jocks, thongs even. You name it , I probably have it.
Bard: When and how did this fascination begin?
Gear makes Ty feels liberated.
Ty: When I was in high school. I always liked being in the speedos [laughing]. Felt liberating. And it just kind of grew from there. Also, all my favorite pro and indy wrestlers wear briefs [laughing]. I think the right fit can make anyone look hot. So I started wrestling privately and had to find interesting places to hide my gear. Weird thing is, with all my love of pro and pro gear, I have yet to get myself some dang boots!
Bard: I’ve never purchased wrestling boots, but I would imagine they’re expensive. What is your favorite gear to wear, and, conversely, what do you most like to see an opponent wearing?
Ty: I would have to say my favorite gear has got to be my pro trunks. I’m picky. I like my stuff to be loud and bright and showy. Usually something to make my awesome tan look even better. As for my opponents I like them in as little as possible [laughing]. But let’s face it , they won’t be looking as good as me. They can try, though it’s just not going to happen.
Working on that sexy tan in his “Ty-Dye” speedos.
Bard: You do have quite the sexy tan. So I hope this isn’t indelicate of me to ask, but does gear itself (wearing it, seeing it on an opponent) turn you on? Does gear itself have a fetish aspect to it for you, or are you more a collector for the sake of collecting?
Ty: It’s a fetish to me. That’s why I have so much! [laughing] I love the feel of it against my body in a match, and if my opponent is lucky enough to get the upper hand on me, I don’t mind feeling that either. Also I like to parade around and show off a bit. [laughing] Sort of a selfie addict. When I try on gear, gotta take a pic from every angle to make sure it looks perfect. Kinda hard not to on me though.
Self-described selfie addict.
Bard: Awesome. You’re most definitely not alone in nursing a gear fetish, I’m sure you know. You mention that you like your gear showy. Favorite colors, patterns, fabrics, themes?
Ty: [Laughing] Anything bright. Lime green, hot pink, purple, even some blues. Brighter the color the more I stand out. Patterns? It depends. Picked up this awesome “Ty-dye” mix the other day and really like it. I love the tribal look a lot, though. Gotta be one of my all time favorite looks. And you can’t go wrong by making it flash with some awesome shades. [laughing] I wanna make sure all the focus is on me, not my opponent in my matches, so the brighter the better.
Bard: Aha! Some strategy plays a part, as well as the turn-on of hot gear all by itself. So clearly this doesn’t apply to your fabulousness, but if you were doing a fashion consult with a homoerotic wrestler who had issues with aspects of their body, would you recommend particular gear choices for particular bodies?
Rook rocks a singlet.
Ty: I would have to say, honestly, wear what makes you feel good about yourself. I mean, obviously make sure it fits right. But who is to judge you? You are your own harshest critic. Though I would say I think a guy in briefs and brief pro gear gets my vote every time. Though I will say if you have bigger thighs go for briefs or long tights. You won’t have to worry about them squeezing the thighs as much and making them look funky. If you have pecs, I think a singlet works. Super hot to see the straps lifted away from the body because you have a pair of rock hard pecs!
Bard: Wise advice that’s also turning me on. Of the photos you’ve shared with me, what are the top 2 or 3 favorite looks you’re liking right now?
Purple and blue “tribal” trunks.
Ty: Hmm. I would have to say my blue star wrestling trunks and the purple and blue tribal. They look and fit awseome. And let’s face it, they make my butt look even more awesome. [laughing] Also my purple short side mesh briefs and my “ty-dye” brief swim suit.
Ty-Dyed
Bard: Well I’m not nearly the studied expert you are, but even I can tell those trunks all look stunning on you and your fine ass. I’m particularly a fan of the “Ty-Dye” suit. That gear definitely should appear in a backyard brawl sometime, preferbly first on your hot, tanned bod, and later stuffed down the throat of your opponent. Speaking of hypothetical future matches, is there anything you can tell us about what the future holds for you on the publicly available wrestling scene? Have you had the call from the boys at BGE to make your follow-up appearance to your Raunchy Rookies debut?
Ty showed “a small taste” of what he can do against Kayden Keller in Raunchy Rookies 7.
Ty: Ah, Bard, if I was to give away anything I think that the punishment would be pretty rough (though most likely I wouldn’t mind it that way). I can say that I can’t wait to show more in my matches as I grow. I think you got a small taste of what I can do against Kayden, and that the other stuff may surprise you even more. There are a lot of guys I hope to get in the ring and even maybe hit the mat with soon. I don’t wanna end up in the river with cement shoes like that poor guy who leaked those behind the scenes photos now, do I? [laughing] I can’t wait to get back, though. All the BGE guys are awesome.
Bard: I have a hunch we’ll be seeing the “Christian Lacroix of homoerotic wrestling” again soon. Thanks for the fashion tutorial, and especially for the graphic illustrations. Can’t wait to see you in action again soon!
Ty is a one-man homoerotic wrestling fashion show!
Ty: Thanks for your time, Bard. I love the site. Keep up the awesome work. It’s always a pleasure talking with you and sharing my stuff with your awesome readers.
I’m sure I was probably too harsh a couple of days ago when I took poor twink Hunter James to task for not enjoying his muscle worship session with Braden Charron nearly enough in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Oil Hunks 2. Muscle Master Kevin himself had to comment that I probably got the wrong end of the stick, mistaking Hunter’s deer-in-the-headlights-nervousness with a lack of enthusiasm. Fair enough. It got me thinking about point-of-view. POV in a well-told story typically takes the reader into the scenario in some relatable way. The character from who’s POV the story unfolds is identifiable and comprehensible to the reader. We may not exactly embrace them, but sometimes the truly masterful story is the one that sucks us into the POV of someone we might otherwise think is incomprehensibly other to us (hello, Dexter). Like Hunter James in OH2, there’s a play on POV in many homoerotic wrestling products that pit a man of pure fantasy, ripped from the cover of a physique mag, unattainable like a star in the heavens, and pits him against an opponent who is relatable to the average Joe wrestling fan. The drama unfolds with the majority of viewers squarely in the back pocket of the average Joe, the Everyman. He may win or lose, compete or cave, but the story unfolds with us securely experiencing the scene from the POV of the boy who’s got to be thanking his lucky stars to get thrown into the deep end of the pool to swim with the gods for a brief moment in time.
Okay that’s certainly a look of pleasure on Hunter’s face when he obediently peels Braden out of his trunks.
Hunter James being dominated and “forced” to oil up and admire a naked Braden Charron is a case in point. Hunter is not a physique star. I’m not saying he’s not a handsome little piece of meat, but the contrast between his lean, undefined, attainable body and the bulging, tanned, impeccably groomed beauty of Braden is a contrast that seems to almost inevitably shove most of us into the POV of Hunter. That’s probably why I’m so harsh on him. I think of myself, briefly, vicariously, as him. I’d dig my fingers deep into those glutes when Braden demands that I spread baby oil across his ass, so when Hunter demurely paints on a paper thin coat by barely making contact with that ass, I want to slap the twink around. That’s NOT my POV, damn it. Enjoy it! Play with it. Thank your lucky stars and then dive in with both feet and celebrate the phenomenal physique standing there naked in front of you demanding your adoration.
Randy Dowell looks like he’s staring into the face of a Greek god as he kneels at the feet of Mark Merino.
I’m overemphasizing the attainability aspect of the Everyman, I’m sure. I’m not saying that a wrestler can’t look hot and still carry off the role of selling the average Joe thanking his lucky stars. Take Randy Dowell, for example, who in Wrestle Worship 2 had the stunning good luck to not only worship both Mark Merino and Stan Greer, but to watch, in awe, as Mark and Stan battled with one another over who’s hunky body Randy should worship last. The plain, cold truth is that Randy Dowell is a hot, handsome hunk in his own right. He’s not nearly as massive as Mark or Stan, but he’s fit, hard, and handsome as hell. But its context and sell that make him work as our eyes and ears (and mouth and nose and especially hands) in the ring, with the DVD promo letting us know that Randy is a fanboy who pelted BG East with a flood of pleas to get to meet gorgeous Mark in person. And Randy is thanking his lucky stars over and over, enthralled, enraptured, turned on like a light switch and hitting every mark that a muscle fan would insist on hitting when faced with the smorgasbord of beef set in front him.
Randy Stanton may not take possession of Mr. Joshua, but on behalf of us all, he gets an appreciative, lingering grope in of Mr. J’s amazingly hot bod.
Another Randy, Randy Stanton, similarly is in possession of a hot, fit, lean bod all his own, but the handsome hunk is absolutely salivating when he strolls into the BG East mat room behind none other than Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!). Again, context builds this narrative every bit as effectively as Randy’s awestruck and truly awesome sell. The match description explains that Mr. J is playing with fire, letting himself get picked up by star-struck Randy and offering up full possession of Mr. J’s phenomenal physique should Randy have what it takes to own it. Holy hell, what a concept! What a cocky sell both of Mr. J’s gargantuan, mammoth, oversized, mouthwatering massive ego (you thought I was going to say something else), as well as transforming hottie Randy S. into, well, you and me, another guy dizzied by Mr. J’s gorgeousness and slack jawed at the wide open opportunity to get his adoring hands all over that body, heart pumping with the possibility of tagging Mr. J’s ass and, more importantly, unleashing the beast that Mr. J infamously smuggles down the front of his drawers.
That average Joe Drake Wild is about to live the fantasy of so many of us, climbing to the top of Tyler St. James and planting his flag for all mere mortal homoerotic wrestling fans everywhere.
Can-Am pulled off a similar motif in their recent release of Pro Sex Fight 10. In this case, it’s much less about the context and the narrative off camera, and built almost entirely on the stunning, striking contrast between the two sex fighters, Drake Wild and Tyler St. James. Tyler is a fantasyman like few others. Tanned, impeccably toned, beautifully blue-eyed Tyler is posted at 6’2″ and around 247 pounds, while lithe, lean, pale Drake is reported to be somewhere in the vicinity of 5’4″ and a buck and a quarter or so. That alone sucks me into that ring irresistibly entranced by the David v Goliath implications, but even more so by the fantasyman v lean, brooding mini-twink. Visually, I’ve seen Drake’s sort out at the bars on plenty of occasions, including the attitude and the Napolean-complex-will-fuck-you-up-for-real stance. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a heavenly vision quite like Tyler in real life, much less had the opportunity to climb into the ring, call him on his shit, and both figuratively and quite literally fuck him up.
Mark Nelson gets exactly what he wants from Brooklyn Bodywrecker, including the slap on the face as he kneels at the feet of one of the most notorious heel daddies to have entered the ring.
My final example of a thank-your-lucky-stars boy who pulls this motif off persuasively is Mark Nelson’s fanboy meets his worst nightmare/fondest fantasy Brooklyn Bodywrecker in Demolition 3. Another fanboy granted his fondest fantasy, Mark is sucking down the humiliation and punishment of BBW like a parched bedouin in the desert. The tension of physical domination, of terror, of the battle of bodies and wills is no less present, and Mark is another hunky hottie, but the sell is all about the point of view of the average Joe who comes face to face with a real, life, towering homoerotic wrestling god.
Who’s your favorite Everyman wrestler and in what match?
Braden Charron is pretty proud of himself. Of course, he should be. Have you seen his physique!? But he’s proud of himself not just because he has the body that stars in a thousand gay men’s fondest fantasies. He’s also proud of himself for figuring out a clever way to scratch a particular itch. You see, he told his opponent in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Oil Hunks 2 that he wanted a wrestling match with him. In fact, what Braden’s really itching for is a beaten-into-submission muscle worship session with the poor, lucky bastard forced to lather Braden’s bulging muscles in oil and give him all the adoration that Braden so richly deserves.
Hunter James starts with the calves.
Braden telegraphs that something is up when Hunter James shows up and Braden asks him if he’s ready to “wrestle.” Literally, Braden uses air-quotes around the word “wrestle.” Of course, Braden’s pre-match instruction for the kid to bring a bottle of baby oil might also have tipped Hunter off. To his credit, Hunter isn’t shy about immediately obeying Braden’s commands right off the bat, obediently breaking out the baby oil and startingto put a pretty shine on Braden’s hot body from the ground up.
“Take your time,” Braden has to tell him, because Hunter is in way, way too much of a hurry.
“So what I want you to do is take your time, get down on your knees, put some on your hands, and start from ankles up, one leg at a time, and take your time, cause I want these calves to start showing.” To his credit, the kid dives right into the opportunity.
Hunter’s look toward the camera could have been the cheekiest, sexiest nod to you, the wrestling fan jealously watching him get his hands all over Braden’s bod. But I think Hunter is actually either looking for stage directions or checking the clock.
Oil Hunks 2 is muscle worship punctuated by brief outbursts of entirely one-sided wrestling domination. Braden toys with Hunter, keeping the kid at heel with voice commands alone, but then relishing the feel of his slicked down muscles torturing the skinny punk in a camel clutch, a full nelson, body scissors. The precise formula is about 4 parts worshipping Braden’s beauty to 1 part suffering Braden’s punishing ways.
“Rub it in good!” Braden has to tell him repeatedly, because Hunter just isn’t feeling this moment the way you or I would.
“Rub it in good. Massage it. Rub it in real good. Enjoy it. Enjoy what it feels like to be rubbing a real man!” Braden coos deeply. Unlike the twink from Oil Hunks 1, Hunter doesn’t look like stroking Braden’s ego is heavy lifting. However, he doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it one tenth as much as I (or you) would. While I get a kick out of seeing the punk in total and absolute submission to Braden’s will from start to finish, Hunter doesn’t have to adjust his own crotch even once, despite rubbing baby oil all over Braden Charron! What the hell?
I know wrestling fans who would donate a kidney to take this ride!
“Many men would love to be doing what you’re doing right now,” Braden explains as he command Hunter to once again coat his phenomenal physique in baby oil, really rubbing it in to Braden’s beautiful glutes. And that’s the real rub, in the middle of all of this rubbing: although Hunter James doesn’t look like he minds this assignment, he doesn’t look the the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. His ministrations are functional, but hardly enthusiastic. When Braden gives him a naked muscle posing routine to enjoy, Hunter calmly, perfunctorily mutters, “Yeah, that’s awesome.” Read that quote like the 80’s porn actor who discovers that the massively muscled and humungously hung pizza boy has an impulsive need to get naked and fuck. “Yeah. oh. yeah. that’s. really. great.”
Hunter just doesn’t earn this. He doesn’t deserve it. He clearly doesn’t appreciate the lottery he just won.
Braden Charron fans line up for a big drink of Braden right where you want him. Wrestling fans, buyer beware, because there’s zero “combat,” just a smattering of actually wrestling holds, and very little real heat. For my personal kink, I still think that MDW is waiting for the wrestler who can really pull this off on the catching end. Brad Barnes and Braden Charron as snarling, dominating muscle bullies is a fantastic innovation, but the Oil Hunks series is still looking for the playful, eager, I’ll-make-you-work-for-it-but-I’ll-be-thrilled-to-be-forced-to-worship-you costar to really turn this franchise into a barn burner. This is “homoerotic wrestling” fare in the technical sense, and there’s plenty of audience who will love the hands-on-Braden motif, but this doesn’t quite count as homoerotic wrestling (sans air quotes) for me. I hope MDW keeps at this nuanced alchemy, because the promise is golden, even if these first couple of attempts haven’t quite catalyzed.
It was another victory by a nose (or perhaps, a bulge), as Donnie Drake barely held off the legendary Lon Dumont to claim the title as he who wore those chartreuse and lime green trunks best. The vote as of my counting this morning was 63 votes for Donnie, 61 for Lon, and 9 votes for underdog Shannon “Ralph Nader” Embry. Donnie is a high profile hunk with a ton of raw pro wrestling appeal and a smoking hot body, so it should come as no surprise that he pulled off the win this time. However, I think in a 3-way ring tussle with Donnie, Shannon and Lon fighting (naked) for the right to don the gear, smarter-than-your-average-bear Lon would manage to split the tag team partners and pull off the humiliating 2-on-1 upset victory… but that may just be me.
That gear seems to have given Donnie’s opponents the green light to absolutely brutalize his hot, sweaty body in Tag Team Torture 8.
I don’t have any fashion smack downs on my mind this week, so there’s no new poll for you. However, feel free to recommend some showdowns for future weeks. Who had the audacity to wear identical gear, begging the question, who wore it best? Let me know what you think about Donnie’s victory this week, and give me a heads up about other fashion showdowns by commenting here.
Never one to fail to jump on a bandwagon, my thoughts this Thursday are turned backward for a “Throwback Thursday” life review. As I approach the 5th anniversary (!!!?) of neverland, it strikes me often how time can be warped in my memory as I reflect on what I’ve posted here over the years. Some things I swear that I’ve harped on over and over, but when I do a systematic search, I discover I’ve perhaps mentioned just once in passing. Some things I think I’ve never, ever said, I discover (not infrequently pointed out by a reader) I’ve most definitely put into print. So today is a trip down memory lane, digging like a geologist into the strata of the years to consider what March 20 has meant in the life of neverland.
RHW came along less than a year after neverland.
My first March 20th post was 4 years ago today, and I was remarking on the still nascent offerings of Rock Hard Wrestling. Specifically, I reviewed RHW’s double match release of Brody Hancock v Cameron Davis as a double-header along with Brody & Shawn Lawson double-teaming (does that make it a quadruple-header?) imminently deserving Zack Johnathan. Back than I was full of critique and advice, probably a little too heavy handed with the wisdom. Time has taught me a little more humility, I think. I hope. In any case, I still say Brody’s double-layered trunks (does that make it an octuple-header?) was a buzz kill and wrestling for gay eyes should use at least 1/3 less fabric in constructing ring gear than straight-up mainstream pro. I haven’t posted on RHW in a while, after covering their releases pretty extensively years ago. Not sure why.
I could stare at Tyrell Tomsen’s ass for weeks at a time!
A year leader, in 2011 I was playing Name That Ass, a game that I probably found a lot more fun that readers did. Then again, some of you played along, and even Queer Me Now covered the genre. And seriously now, what’s not to love about studying in exquisite detail finely crafted homoerotic wrestling asses? The asses teased in that March 20th post were, in order, Tyrell Tomsen, multiple best butt award winner Kid Karisma, Mark Wolff, John Magnum, and Coupe. No one posted a perfect score in that round. Perhaps I need to pull Name That Ass out of mothballs to give you more practice.
The metamorphosed Charlie Panther.
March 20, 2012 was a Bodies-Over-Time focus on the stunningly evolving body of BG East’s Charlie Panther. I’d just seen his newest release at the time, absolutely defining a squash against Tim Messina in Pros in Private 9 and earning the homoerotic wrestler of the month title around these parts. Homoerotic wrestlers of the month have continued to be a theme since I started handing them out, and Charlie was a most excellent entry into the HWOTM hall of fame. At some point, I should do some soul searching about what subsequent HWOTM say about me and my evolving/stagnating tastes.
These could easily become the most trusted, not to mention gargantuan biceps in news!
Interestingly, last year on this date, I didn’t post at all. This was in the middle of a several-week drought, which happens not too infrequently around these parts. The nearest post was the day before, when I was resurrecting a theme that has possessed these pages since THE VERY BEGINNING, namely, Chris Cuomo and the need for more hotly muscled skin in the news. Specifically, I was extremely excited by the prospect of massively muscled Latino pretty boy Gio Benitez joining the reporting pool at GMA. GMA has yet to truly capitalize on the sheer magnetism of Gio’s mammoth pecs, but I still get a little giddy when I see him on air. I’m quite certain you will continue to read more about my ongoing obsession with new hunks.
It’s an interesting core sampling of what has made neverland hold my attention over the years, looking back at this date in history. Some things change. Some things stay the same (including periods of radio silence as life distracts me from what’s really important, homoerotic wrestling). And, as always, I just follow my fanaticism for the homoeroticism of wrestling where it takes me.
Spring has arrived (then left, then came back again), bringing with it warm sunshine and hot studs wearing shorts. Honestly, it’s still too cold for shorts, but I’ll slap you silly if you tell that to the well-muscled men in my neighborhood who have been dying all winter to show off their marvelously meaty thighs. Now another 10 degrees warmer and I’m certain they’ll also go shirtless. In the meantime, I’m thanking the homoerotic wrestling gods for the fantasy-fueling glimpses of strong, thick, hunky legs.
Spring means bare thighs!
In their honor, I lift him an extremely long-time obsession of mine, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!). I’ve mentioned before that pretty much everything about Joshua is underrated due to the extremely attention-grabbing cantaloupes he smuggles in the pouch of his trunks. I’ve spilt gallons of virtual ink marveling at the package that has won the Best Bulge at BG East award 2 years running, but when I can manage to tear my eyes away from the hypnotically swaying ballast he’s packing, I’m captured by how gorgeous his legs are.
Agonizingly pretty Rio.
Gorgeous is a word that has to appear a dozen or more times in a review of Mr. Joshua’s appearance in Hunkbash 15 because his opponent is possibly the most gorgeous creature on the planet, devastatingly lovely Rio Garza. Typically I think of the adjective “pretty” to correlate highly with “breakable,” “vulnerable,” and “doomed” when it comes to homoerotic wrestling chatter, but Rio is both supremely pretty and possessing astonishing tenacity and endurance, because he’s had that award winning ass of his beat senseless so many times that no one could begrudge him if he were to never set foot in a wrestling ring again.
Two great tastes that taste great together.
But Rio does, again and again, and once again he climbs into BG East’s ring with one of the most notorious narcissist heels in competition, Mr. Joshua. I’m enthralled with the contrasts as the two check each other out. Skin tone, proportion, features, weightiness… these two men are a bundle of contradictions appearing in the same ring together. I’m incredibly turned on by both, which makes it that much more astounding to me to recognize how different they are in personality and proficiency in the ring.
Rio teases those of us aching for more of Mr. J’s gargantuan package.
And when Rio strikes early, spladling Mr. Joshua wide and showing off the prize that Joshua fans worship above all else (that mountainous package), I’m struck by the perspective of seeing Mr. J made so vulnerable by a notorious jobber like Rio. Joshua is perennially dangerous. Even when he loses, he dominates. Even when he’s humiliated, there’s a presence about him that holds the momentum like he holds my gaze. But when Rio rips apart his gargantuan thighs and rolls Mr. J up, asshole toward the ceiling and that legendary bulge bulging and quivering, the drama grabs me hard.
Mr. Joshua digs deep into a pile of quivering beauty.
Then, of course, Mr. J grabs Rio. Hard. Holy shit, in the long, long line of brutal beatings Rio has suffered, this is one of the sexiest. There’s no time to worry about whether Rio is going to sell it (a question I’ve raised in the past regarding his work), because Mr. J maintains such a commanding, persistent pace that Rio’s got nowhere to go but down, down, down.
Rio is forced to flex, but Mr. Joshua pumps his quads just because he knows how fucking sexy they are.
And here’s where I circle back to the beginning of this post to say that in the bedazzling spectacle of gorgeousness, where my eyes just soak in helplessly one astonishingly sexy sight after another (Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s abs, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s anguished face, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s stunning ass, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s obediently flexed bicep), I can’t help but let out a little gasp of appreciation for Mr. J’s cabled, thick, damn sexy quads. They aren’t in the leading role in this incredibly talented ensemble cast. Fuck, they wouldn’t even get nominated for a supporting role award. But they are essential and breathtaking nonetheless.
So much to appreciate, including those awesomely tasty quads!
I once posted about my unrequited lust for precisely two wrestlers who tease and taunt the fans cruelly, dishing out insane quantities of sexiness but always falling just shy of showing off every gorgeous thing about them in a wrestling match: Rio Garza and Joshua Goodman. In Hunkbash 15, they continue their vicious ways, stripping down everything but everything and leaving me shedding a tear of unfulfilled anticipation for seeing either of them (just imagine the novel I’d have written here if they’d both done it!) getting stripped naked and brutalized, finally baring it all. But the bastards still have me wiggling on the hook, as I find still more to drive me crazy with lust. Well played, you horrible, horrible (insanely sexy) hunks.
Kenny Brain can be my furry daddy/big brother any day.
I haven’t really paid attention to the Big Brother franchise in years, but seeing this slice of homoerotic fantasy gold plastered across the internet certainly caught my attention yesterday. I can report only what I read online, because I didn’t even know there was such a thing as “Big Brother Canada,” and now that I do, I find out that I can’t watch it online from my “location.” Bigots. However, if there’s more eye candy from furry gay male model Kenny Brain in loosey whities and olive oil, I predict he’s got a big, big future ahead of him on a screen in front of me.
If there’s a homoerotic wrestling god on Mt. Olympus, then somebody is already offering this slice of over-the-top sexiness a contract to seriously hit his stride as a homoerotic wrestler.
And based on my 3-way interview with Drake “all-talk-no-show” Marcos and his patent holder, Mason Brooks, I’d say Kenny’s very first opponent should be Mason. Mason mentioned that he has a tendency to get dazzled and distracted by a hot opponent’s “Canadian-ness,” and Kenny looks like he’s got gallons of Canadian-ness to shoot all over Mason’s sweet pecs.
Hell, I’m smelling a potential Southern Invasion force storming BG East if gorgeous Kenny joins the ranks of other known/rumored Canadians that have made incursions across the border. Keep your fingers crossed!
I’ve heard second hand that Blaine Janus is a Canuck. He’s also a dead ringer for Kenny Brain’s fraternal twin. Now that would be a devastating tag team!Self-avowed Canadian Ben Monaco has dazzled more than a few opponents with his bulging Canadian-ness.Speaking of bulging Canadian-ness, Alain LeClair may be able to single handedly bring Boston to its knees, so imagine what he could do with back-up!
Aryx Quinn continues to perfect his fantasy physique. Exhibit A.
Aryx Quinn has been taking a beating in our Friday Fashion polls, and he’s none too happy about it. Actually, Aryx has stayed above it all, but he has noticed the attention, and he has wanted to point out that he’s been putting on mountains of succulent, hard earned, beautifully sculpted muscle since, for example, he wrestled Muscle Mask in Masked Mayhem 11. When judging the aesthetics of Aryx as a model for fantasy-inducing wrestling gear, he’d like to point out that he’s a whole new man, bringing a whole barrage of new firepower to please his fans and blow away the competition inside and outside the ring. I’ve put in a request for him to share photos of his phenomenal physique as he approaches his first bodybuilding competition, which may happen as soon as this summer, so stay tuned. My thanks to Aryx for sharing these bits of convincing evidence that are featured in today’s post that demonstrate that he’s done nothing but continue to improve on the intoxicating mixture of beauty, power, and attitude that has earned him such a fanatical fan following!
Sidelineland 