Roadmap

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Thunder’s Arena’s Coupe shows off his vascularity
As I mentioned in my last post, there’s a lot about Thunder’s Arena’s Coupe that turns me on. I could go on for days about the intoxicating brew of his freakish physical development mixed with self-depracating humor and a strong chaser of insecurity. I could linger for hours at a time over the gargantuan slabs of beef that are his glutes. He sports the proportions of a superhero, ripped from the imagination of some barely suppressed gay comic book artist. But for today, I’m captured by the effect that Coupe’s vascularity has on me. The ropes of thick veins stretched across his arms and shoulders drive me nuts!
BG East’s Lon Dumont is shredded!
In Rookie Wreckers 1, Lon Dumont is in astonishing shape. His body is straight out of my college anatomy and physiology textbook. On the road to competing in several bodybuilding competitions soon after his humiliation of the beefy beauty, young Morgan Cruise, Lon had already whittled away every gram of body fat, until there was just nothing left but his gorgeous, smooth skin stretched across his skeletal muscles. With simply no padding, you can clearly see the sharp edges of his joints, the lay of the muscle fibers themselves, and the spiderweb of veins feeding his awesomely pumped muscles. With hunky Morgan tied up helplessly in the ropes and forced to watch, Lon took an opportunity to practice some of his mandatory poses. Admiring his own side chest pose, Lon marveled at the roadmap of striations and veins carved across his cut pecs. “Look at that!” he demands of Morgan, in awe at the sight of his own astonishing fitness.
Thunder’s Arena’s King Conan: built to impress (and crush)

Aussie pro bodybuilder, Conan at Thunder’s is nearly too big for my tastes. If I had a man this size inviting me to worship his physique like the god he most certainly is, I almost wouldn’t know where to start. However, I think I’d figure it out, and veiny ropes bulging just beneath the skin would hold my attention for quite some time. And speaking of holding, I’d go deep into debt to pay every penny it would be worth to have Conan lock my head between those veiny thighs in a deep, suffocating face-to-crotch scissors and have him dick whip my face.

BG East’s recent masked muscle freak discovery, Magnus, left me nearly as much in awe of him as that lucky bastard gym bunny, Surge. All that beef hanging from Magnus’ legs require thick, bulging veins to supply his quads, hamstrings and calves with the nourishment they need. Damn, that’s hot!

Can-Am’s Steve Sterling – tags and bags his opponents with
his overwhelming muscle development

Can-Am’s classic muscle beast, Steve Sterling, had a gorgeous… well, a gorgeous everything! But in the heat of competition, when he’d strain and flex and inevitably outmuscle the lambs led to slaughter in front of him, the veins in his arms would swell to the surface and bring me, like so many of his opponents, to my knees.

Thiago’s muscles look ready to explode as he counters
Jobe’s oh-so-tight rear bearhug

Can-Am’s Thiago Diaz‘ upper body is jaw-droppingly sculpted. The muscle mass he carries on his arms, shoulders and chest is almost unbelievable. I almost wonder if he’s wearing some blow-up muscle suit to explain his astonishing thickness (not to mention the muscle that’s challenging the seams of his trunks!). When Thiago flexes, straining to power out of a fiercely intimate rear bear hug by sadist cockmaster, Jobe Zander, the vascularity that flares up across his upper arms and shoulders pushes me right to the edge of self-control (and frequently right over the edge).

I’m on the record for being turned on by a diversity of bodies. It isn’t that the details don’t matter to me, but that I’m a fan of all sorts of packages for each set of sweet, provocative details they have. By no means do my wrestling turn-ons require bodybuilders to satisfy what ignites my erotic tastes. Lean meanies, beefy bruisers, tasty twinks… hairy, smooth, pretty boys and ugly mugs… fratboy loveliness, perfectly seasoned maturity… I’m blessed by all sorts of buttons that ignite my homoerotic wrestling fantasies. Gorgeous, bulging, pulsing veins rising to the surface of a rock hard body is right up there with some of the qualities that turn me on the most.

The Biggest Loser

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Coupe’s back! This makes me happy. Coupe is a muscle freak that rocks me every ounce as hard as his stunning body is (hard, that is). His arms and chest are like a road map of thick, blue veins. His 6’1″, 215 pound body is tanned a freakish mocha that convinces me he’s got to be yet another competition bodybuilder-turned-wrestler. His quads look thicker than his waist, and this minuscule fraction of body fat is probably not indicative of an entirely healthy, happy diet. There are some elements to the package that is Thunder’s Coupe that could go either way for me. Too much a vascular muscle freak, too many monster veins and synthetic skin tone can become more than I can get into. Somehow, Coupe stays just within the lines of homoerotic wrestling fantasy material for me.  His personality may be the piece of the puzzle that tips the scales the right direction. Some of his on camera banter with Cameron Mathews from a ways back was fantastically charming. He’s got a sense of humor. His wrestling persona is oddly self-depracating when packaged in that superhuman physique. He loses… a lot. And there’s something intoxicating about watching all that mind-blowing muscularity manipulated, exploited and owned. That he’s back at Thunder’s for more makes me happy not only for the eye candy, but the enjoyment of witnessing both his Superman assets paired with an adorable vulnerability.
Coupe and Dallas meet for Bodybuilder Battle 48 as they both lounge around the Thunder’s Arena living room. They start a little pissing contest about who’s been brutalized the worst. It’s a homoerotic wrestling take on “biggest loser,” as both notorious whipping boys take ironic pride in boasting their most humiliating defeats. In a battle of jobbers, who’s the jobberiest?
Aptly named Big Sexy shows up to light a fire under these boys. I appreciate the sentiment. While I find a distinct allure to a squash or a destined-to-job muscleman, if there’s no pretense of an ego on the line, then it’s just not very homoerotic for my tastes. Eye candy is nice. Pretty bodies on display are pleasing. But if the wrestling has no heart, it doesn’t tweak my wrestling kink. So Big Sexy offers $500 to whichever notorious loser can finally chalk up a decisive victory. Coupe is eager to take the challenge. Dallas looks less  hopeful.
On the Thunder’s mat, Dallas cannot take his eyes off of Coupe’s sculpted pecs. “You’re huge!” he mutters with a dumbshit grin on his face.  Big Sexy leans toward Coupe conspiratorially. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to win…” he confides to Coupe. Then he turns his attention to his former chore boy to explain, “…cause you’re shitty.”
Dallas mutters, embarrassed, “Me too.”  As the action finally commences, there’s more than a helping of the typical Thunder’s camp that bounces off of me like rubber. Dallas, in particular, is about 3.5% wrestler, 96.5% ham sandwich from start to finish in this match up. Reminiscent of many a “fight” between me and my older brother when I was about 6 years old (which was just not homoerotic), Dallas goes for an “Indian burn” early in the match. The boys laugh at themselves uncomfortably for the first 10 minutes or so. Personally, I’m attracted by a build up of tension, but with each snort and nervous chuckle, they frustratingly release the tension and reduce my satisfaction.
Back to the issue of eye candy, however, Coupe looks amazing. Returning from the awkward cuts showing extensive need for editing the original tape, Coupe is frequently found flexing his muscle freak physique for no other reason than he knows he looks so fucking hot. It’s the eye candy aspect that keeps me watching when Dallas’ ham makes me just feel uncomfortable for these big boys. Slowly, Coupe settles firmly into character. He easily puts Dallas on his back and forces him to strum his washboard abs. They trade bear hugs that show off Coupe’s munchable striated glutes. When Dallas manages an improbable schoolboy pin and then cradle, Coupe’s mind-blowing muscles are stretched and displayed from nearly every angle. Spread-eagled and bridging, it makes me long to offer another $500 to Dallas if he’ll just keep Coupe locked up long enough for me to seriously study his captured crotch up close… with my hands… and my tongue.
Coupe eventually hits a note that turns me on without reservation. It’s his crowing, gloating muttering of the phrase, “All day…” that finally sells me. He pounds Dallas’ soft tummy. He claws his pecs. He scoops him up like absolutely nothing and parades the unemployed pizza delivery boy around the mat with growing pleasure at the feel of being in charge. “All day,” he mutters with each compromising position he lays down on his continually clowning opponent. “All day,” he says, slamming Dallas to his back.  He seamlessly transitions from the body slam to an armlock, cranking Dallas’ elbow backward painfully. “Is that not the way it’s supposed to go?” Coupe asks, chuckling, this time not in nervous self-consciousness, but in cocky confidence.  “This is called ‘Getting Fucked Up,’ man,” Coupe gloats.
When Dallas wrestled for Naked Kombat as Parker London, he was hot, intense, and all business. So I know that he can do something other than clown around. He also rode his NK opponent like a pony before force feeding him his cock and plowing his ass, so I’m ready to cut Dallas some slack and not over-interpret his clownishness here as contempt for his audience. But it takes some considerable heat on the part of Coupe to avoid being doused by the cold shower of Dallas’ screwing around and laughing.  When Coupe literally beats a final submission out of him, stretched backward across his thigh and pounding Dallas’ soft core like a sledge hammer, it’s an erotic relief/release for me to see something that looks like powerful, beautiful physical domination. If the rest of the match was as gorgeously sold, if Dallas just channeled a little of his pornboy Parker persona to put a little ego on the mat, this could have been a thoroughly rousing scrap.
As it is, I’m just happy to see Coupe in action again, and I can generate some serious enthusiasm for the moments of wrestling kink allure that he works himself into. Now, if he’d peel off those canary posing trunks and ride Dallas around the mat like a pony, this fun little 27 minute diversion would be seriously epic!

Odysseus Arrives

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I completely understand why 44% of you selected wrestling hunk Jake Jenkins as the homoerotic wrestler who best embodies the spirit of Odysseus. He was the runaway winner in the field of 6 nominees (7, really, since SP put in a write-in vote for Wade Cutler). Reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month Rex Braddock, looking an awful lot like Steeve Reeves from his sword and sandal film days, had support early in the voting. But tough young Jake came from behind to spank Rex’s bubble butt handily, garnering 2 votes to his 1 when all was said and done.

When Jake hit the scene as the very definition of Rock Hard Wrestling, I had a hit from the chatter that we were falling into two categories: Jake Jenkins fanatics vs Austin Cooper fanatics. There’s not a thing wrong with blond bombshell Austin, mind you, but I was instantly in the Jake camp. He’s clearly a well-trained athlete, including bringing solid amateur wrestling skills with him to the ring. Kid Karisma probably put it best, dubbing Jake a “fucking monkey” for his ability to climb and jump, swing from the ropes and leap through the air inside the ring. Needless to say, he’s also hot as hell. And he’s quickly developed great instincts for selling a story, conquering more than his fair share of bigger opponents and also suffering like someone with intimate knowledge of what it feels like to get owned.
More to the point of Jake-as-Odysseus, he can totally work for me as a Greek hero, fearlessly facing the wrath of the gods determined to break him in body and spirit. His hot muscled body trapped, squeezed, and tied up helplessly by one sadistic opponent after another (particularly in his BGE work) makes it no stretch at all to think of him as the pawn of Olympus, battered, beaten, crushed and humiliated, but never completely broken.
There’s a virtuous “everyman” quality about Odysseus that Jake just barely qualifies for in my book. If Odysseus didn’t have a little god-spunk in his own genetic recipe, Jake might look just too tasty for the role. But Jake works an awfully compelling mixture of both cocky self-confidence and intoxicating vulnerability at the same time. Through sheer grit, he can endure apparently endless suffering to overcome the odds and bring a relative giant to his knees. In expert hands, though, he can also get chipped away, his iron clad core of muscle and fortitude that much more luscious as he goes down time after time to the dark powers of domination and injustice.
Odysseus brushes against complete destruction over and over again. He’s a mere mortal (a hot, macho, battle-sculpted mortal, of course), so against the divine interference of gods and demigods, he’s tricked and toppled repeatedly. He’s helpless and hopeless, if not for divine intervention that allows him to fight another day. And when it comes to Jake, there are few wrestlers currently in the business who I’d rather see soaked in hard-working sweat, tied up bare assed and in agony like a pretzel, refusing to submit despite facing absolutely zero chance of extricating himself from his tragic circumstances.

BG East Arena has preview pics of Jake in a Wet and Wild match, soaked in see-through speedos, on the edge of getting drowned by Poseidon/Christian Taylor. There are some homoerotic wrestlers that I love watching in a squash (either end of the stick), but Jake, like Odysseus, is most entertaining and lovely when he’s working, working hard, struggling, fighting, battling with every awesome muscle and acrobatic ability, straining to keep me entirely wrapped up in the suspense.

And speaking of suspense, thanks for your words of encouragement and support in my own epic journey to get home. Happily, I finally made it!

My Odyssey

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You would not believe the week I’ve had. I’ve slept in three different time zones, been snowed in twice, re-routed 3 times, and I’ve been working my ass off every step of the way. I feel a lot like Odysseus, tackling one epic obstacle after another thrown at me by the gods. And even as I type this, the same demonic snow storm that has trapped me once already has left me snowbound yet again, far from home.

I don’t know what I did to offend the gods, or what bad karma I accrued, or how unlucky I am to have defied probability on so many counts to come up on the short end of the stick. In any case, thank the gods that I at least have internet access now. The subzero wind chill and blinding snow outside are screaming my name, but I’m warm and sheltered for the time being. I’ve been away from the blog so long that I’m struggling to get my groove back. So I’m just going to ask for a little help from you all.

You know the story of Odysseus. Greek hero, thwarted by the ancient gods from his trek to return home to his family after fighting valiantly in the Trojan War. He battled a cyclops. He was briefly made an amnesiac by the Lotus Eaters. Half his men were turned to swine by the witch Circe.  He resisted the temptations of the ensnaring voices and vaginas of the Sirens. At every turn, the gods thwarted his journey home, threatening to take his life, battering him with the strength of all the elements of earth, sea and sky.

So my question for you, readers, is which homoerotic wrestler best embodies the spirit of Odysseus?  He’s got to be able to suffer overwhelming odds and profound injustice and keep battling back. He’s got to make women swoon, but prefer the company of his virile young men who follow him faithfully. He’s got to be athletic, strong, commanding and inspire both divine lust and ire. Which wrestler do you most readily picture in a loin cloth, tied to the mast of a ship, swelling with lust and driven nearly mad with desire? You can nominate your own by commenting below, but here are the nominees I’m placing before you for consideration…

Brad Rochelle

With the buzz over Brad Rochelle’s return after a long absence from BG East wrestling, I think he could have the look and the persona to be Odysseus. And perhaps he has his own heroic Odyssey to explain is long absence from the scene.

Cameron Mathews

Cameron Mathews has got to be one of the hardest working hunks in wrestling, which earns him a nomination for the role of Odysseus. Hot body, handsome face, astonishingly lush ass, and an all around good guy… the makings of an epic hero.

Thunder’s Arena’s Boxxy

 Boxxy is my wild card in this deck. I know he’s made a big splash at Thunder’s, and a helpful reader recently pointed me to his bare-all solo work at Randy Blue. He could have the making of a sincere, heroic face who gets pummeled and pounded by injustice but remains true to his belief that by virtue and hard work, he deserves to win in the end.

Jake Jenkins

Jake Jenkins stars in all sorts of fantasies of mine, and it’s no stretch at all to picture him in a loin cloth, battling the giant cyclops, taking a beating and relentlessly bouncing back for more. And I suspect that like me, there are plenty of men and women who’d lie, cheat and steal for his affections, just like Odysseus!

Can-Am’s Paul Perris

Too literal? Whatever. We know that the classic bodybuilder/kickboxer/homoerotic wrestling icon Paul Perris looks mouthwatering when tied up. This man driven wild by the Siren’s song, willingly tied to the mast of his ship by his men, would be awfully picture perfect.

Rex/Rex Braddock

Finally, homoerotic wrestler of the month Rex Braddock has the facial hair and the gorgeous, hairy body of a Greek hero. There’s a raw edge to Rex that I love. He’s somehow gorgeous and yet not pretty. He’s a beast of a man, but neither quite fits my typology of a gym bunny or a bodybuilder. He could be an everyman hero, no doubt. The object of lust, ire and a never-say-die willingness to stare down whatever the gods might throw at him.

Let me know what wrestler you think fits the bill of the classic Greek hero Odysseus by voting in the margin at the right. And wish me luck defying the gods in my own journey home.

The Return of the King

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Young, rookie Brad Rochelle pumped and ready for business
Kid Leopard promised me this summer when I visited the BG East compound that we haven’t seen the last of legendary BG East babyface, Brad Rochelle. Like so many other homoerotic wrestling fans, I was thrilled by this news. The instant I saw Brad as the cover boy on the front page of the BG East website about 13 years ago or so I was sold.  Such a handsome face; such a gorgeous, hard body! Just that one cover image of Brad made him an instant star of countless homoerotic wrestling fantasies.  So when I actually got my hands on my first glimpse of him working all those mouth-watering muscles in the ring, he was already cemented as a homoerotic wrestling fantasy man. Watching his matches over the following years has never disappointed me. His body, like his wrestling persona, matured, which as far as I’m concerned is only good news. After a few early career victories, he was stuck deeply in the rut of jobberdom as The Boss bound his hands behind his back to be everyone’s practice dummy in The Contract series. The endless humiliation and vicious abuse of his body and spirit finally made the babyface break, and all those nasty dirty tricks and vile exploitation he’d suffered over the years came back to haunt newbie babyface after newbie babyface. About 3 years ago BG East released a tag team match that they found in their archives from Brad’s earlier work, but the last we saw of the Brad storyline was his 2006 appearance in his signature series, The Contract, enlisting a reluctant Jonny Firestorm to join him in teaching Patrick Donovan and Steven Thomas a lesson they won’t soon forget.
Then Brad seemingly disappeared. His fan group has continued to pine away, but as the years ticked by with no sight of him, even the most diehard Brad fanatics began to despair.  The Boss dropped hints in the BG East fan group from time to time, assuring everyone that Brad was still around and would someday see the light of day again, but after 5 years, longing mentions of Brad on the boards tend to spark sneering slap downs from commenters who’ve grown convinced that he’s officially retired. My report of The Boss’ promise that we’d see Brad again notwithstanding, the ranks of believers have grown thin lately. And then, like a vision from beyond the veil, The Boss posted 6 picture proofs that Brad’s days in the ring and on the mats are undeniably not over!
Brad Rochelle, still wrestling and filling out his trunks exceedingly well!

Counting myself among the Brad fanatics of this world, I had a delightful exchange with Kid Leopard this past weekend that resulted in The Boss granting me the opportunity post a few more exclusive, as-yet unseen photos from Brad’s return. These pics seen here, along with the pics from the fan groups, assure me that my erotic dreams will once again be haunted by fresh images of Brad Rochelle inspiration. Prior to this, fans have debated what time might have done to this fantasyman. While not identical to his rookie body of 13 years ago (who is!?), I’m thrilled to see that he’s stayed in shape and, if anything, is filling out his awesomely tight trunks possibly better than ever. That ass!

Brad cracks Chace LaChance across his knee.

For years, the legions of hopefuls have been speculating about who Brad ought to meet in his momentous return. More exclusive pics show further detail of Brad’s impending appearance against some of the prettiest babyfaces to arrive on the scene since last we saw Brad. Go-go boy bombshell Chace LaChance has never looked better than stretched vulnerably across Brad’s leg in a luscious over-the-knee backbreaker!

Attila Dynasty winces (and bulges) in the grasp of the veteran.

Acrobatic prettyboy Attila Dynasty gets the same treatment. Brad looks to me like he’s carving up a Thanksgiving turkey with Attila’s astonishing package bulging temptingly in Brad’s face. Both Chace and Attila are at that crucial early career pivot point. They’ve both lost humiliatingly. They’ve both most recently chalked up some very entertaining victories. Not unlike an early career Brad, they look primed to either become forces to be reckoned with in the BG East stable, or to join the ranks of epic jobbers, of which perhaps no one is more epic than Brad himself.  Brad appears to have returned to tip the scales toward jobberdom for pretty Chace and Attila!

Babyface teamwork comes back to bite Brad in the butt.

Chace and Attila, on the other hand, appear none too eager to roll over submissively and let the icon put them in their place. The lovely young bucks clearly don’t go easy on the legend.  Opponents have been torturing Brad’s beautiful back for more than a decade, and Chace and Attila look determined to bend the veteran hunk past the point of no return and cut short his much anticipated return before it really starts.

Brad is living large and in charge, flexing overtop of 2 defeated prettyboys.

I can’t attest to the sequence of the photos, but whether earlier or later in the confrontation, at some point Brad has bested both beautiful boys and stacked them like firewood on top of one another in the middle of the ring as he flexes overtop of them. Perhaps Brad proves, once again, that he’s worth more than two babyface rookies who might have visions of filling his shoes as the resident BG East babyface heart throb?

Brad’s 1-finger salute to the doubters and haters

The time away has done nothing to make Brad’s body less tantalizing, nor his attitude less contemptuous. The Boss sent me this pic of Brad flipping a middle finger to all the doubters and haters out there who tried to rewrite history with him as anything short of the headliner muscle jock that made countless fans weak at the knees. The wrestling singlet is doing wonders for me here.  Those are eye-catching bulges (the biceps, the shoulders, the pecs, the crotch…)!

Is that a floppy-haired Denny Cartier schooling veteran Brad in mat wrestling!?

Brad’s opponent on the mat appears to me to be another welcome return to BG East, namely former homoerotic wrestler of the month and babyface star of many wrestling fantasies of mine, Denny Cartier.  If it is Denny, he’s let his hair grow out, which we know is indeed a sexy, curly mop. He’s also sporting hot, hairy legs that look like they could snap Brad’s spine in half, so yep, I think it’s Denny! Brad’s got a ton of experience to draw from, but facing Denny in his bread-and-butter setting on the BG East mats seems to me like a formula for Brad to discover that even though fans may be falling over themselves to celebrate his return, there’s some merciless competition at BG East that would probably like nothing more than to send Brad back to the ranks of eternal jobbers. Come to think of it, there are probably a whole lot of those eager fans who’d like that, as well!

Cameraman Jonny Firestorm appears to make his presence known
during Brad’s much-lauded return to the ring (this photo also posted
at BG East Yahoo Group)

So what have we learned, my friends? We’ve learned that beautiful Brad Rochelle, indeed, has made a return to face some of the prettiest new faces in the ring and most dangerous mat wrestlers that BG East has to offer. We’ve also learned that Brad continues to be smokin’ hot, gorgeous as hell, and while some of his famous muscles may be a little smaller, I swear to God his ass and crotch have grown and grown finer with age. I can only imagine the story lines that take Brad on a journey into the ring with Chace LaChance, Attila Dynasty and Jonny Firestorm, and onto the mat with dangerous Denny Cartier. But another thing that we know: it isn’t just my imagination. This is no Elvis sighting. Brad is back, and I can’t wait (though it seems I’ll have to) to get to see Brad work his magic on the boys that have come along since.

Thanks Kid Leopard, for the tantalizing pics and for setting our hearts pumping in anticipation! And welcome back, Brad!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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Some poor but worthy homoerotic wrestler is getting short changed this month. It’s taken me a few days to recover from the New Year, leaving my designation of homoerotic wrestler of the month for the back burner until now. In order to give the worthiest wrestler every last minute on the throne this month, let me get right down to business. The very top tier of the wrestlers who brought me the most pleasure in December is populated by these extremely select hunks: that “fucking monkey” Jake Jenkins (as Kid Karisma referred to him), for his work against Joah Bindao in BG East’s Fantasymen 34, as well as Austin Cooper for his ring work against former homoerotic wrestler of the month, Z-Man; Rex Braddock for every mouthwatering inch of his Strip Stakes 2 BG East debut. Austin Raines for a match that completely took me by surprise, demonstrating astonishing innovation and an iron will to dominate blue eyed terrier, Andy Hammer in BG East’s The Great Outdoors. Rock Hard Wrestling’s Ethan Andrews gets my nod for making me eat my words and delivering truly beautiful, arousing rookie bashing all over shocked jock Jason Kane. Thunder’s Arena’s Big Sexy makes me weak in the knees for showing up with a black eye, a new haircut, and looking harder than ever in Christmas Chaos 2011. Finally, Jobe Zander walks the fine line between camp and erotic pro wrestling as he works rookie Derek Fox’s angry inches relentlessly in Can-Am’s De-Crotchery 2.  The same line up could totally tip a different direction for me at another time, but for satiating what I was aching for in December, there’s one standout muscle boy…

Rex’s work in Strip Stakes 2 is phenomenal. As always, it takes two to tango, but Rex is unquestionably the lead in this dance. He lays down the strip stakes. Marc starts off seemingly literally entranced by the sight of his own gorgeous muscles, requiring Rex shove his handsome face into Marc’s to break the spell. Rex loses a couple of items of gear along the way, but Rex’s riding time is completely dominant.

I’ve noted Rex’s awesome size and handsome face from his work with Thunder’s, but his appearance in the BG East ring captivates me like never before. What a face! A homoerotic wrestler with a full beard is notable enough, but that space between Rex’s front teeth and those movie star eye lashes are astonishingly adorable on such a big, beefy bruiser. From a distance, I’d quickly assess him as a muscle bound basher. His upper body is built for ripping opponents limb from limb, and good God, those legs blow my mind! I’m convinced this man squats Mac trucks to build that size. There’s no other possible explanation. So, from a distance, Rex gives the overwhelming impression of an über-masculine bruiser with a clear focus on blunt-force trauma. But hot damn it all if, on closer inspection, you don’t discover that disguised underneath that built-to-heel beard and all that muscle mass is a doe-eyed pretty boy that would make your heart melt and your cock rock hard to see first thing lying next to you when you wake up in the morning.

On another day, or perhaps a different month, Strip Stakes 2 might not have propelled Rex to the top of the ratings.  Both Rex and Marc wrestle in broad strokes. There’s little subtlety.  This is a poundingly persistent marathon, not the adrenaline hit off a sprint. In fact, there are moments when I’d swear that the match slides into slow motion. Other than Marc getting racked naked across Rex’s mile-wide shoulders, I don’t remember either of them leaving their feet. But in December, I found myself craving exactly what Rex delivered, including gratuitous post-strip stakes naked victory bashing domination of his dark, bulglingly beautiful opponent.

Frankly, when watching matches with a cum shot chaser, I’m most often satiated long before the combatants reach orgasm. It’s more a curiosity than staple fare for my wrestling kink tastes.  But last month, I found myself nursing a deep lust to watch muscle-Marc helpless in big Rex’s sleeper. Rex pushed my buttons as he dropped the loser to his big, muscle butt and demanded a final emission-submission from the glassy-eyed, bulging muscleboy, who slowly obeyed his overpowering conqueror.

Rex’s bicep remains relentlessly clamped across Marc’s throat forever as the Italian strokes himself to life. Marc leans back, submissively, against the muscled torso propping him up from behind. Rex stares at Marc’s cock as it swells, flushes red with excitement, and grows slick with precum. On command, at the moment Marc shoots his load onto his lower abdomen, he cries out plaintively his final verbal submission even as he slips into unconsciousness with Rex’s grapefruit bicep pressed solidly against his carotid artery.

Rex dump his many-times-over loser of a muscleboy opponent in a heap, climbs out of the ring and leans back into the nearby couch to study the sight of his handiwork lying like so much wasted muscle in front of him. He’s drained me, like Marc, several times over already. But I can’t help myself but be aroused all over again as Rex breathes in the sweaty scent of his and Marc’s stripped gear. After seeing Rex so frequently keeping the action straight at Thunder’s, I admit that I gasped when I first saw him begin to toy with his cock there ringside. The doe-eyed muscleboy is a grower, gentlemen, and by the time he’s done pushing himself over the edge soaking in the sight of Marc’s defeated body in the ring, Rex proves that truly every inch of his muscle armored body is massive.

There’s a moment of intimacy I experience watching Rex jack-off that I just don’t often experience when I’m enjoying homoerotic wrestling or porn. I think it’s the glimpse of that prettyboy face peering out from behind the Colt model beard and beefy bruiser body. Often I don’t give a damn if the objects of my lust get off. The sight of cum, in and of itself, seldom does much to me. But I find myself aching to see Rex’s face twist in the throes of a post-match orgasm. I’m inspired to another bolt of ecstasy at the sight of Rex inspired to a bolt of ecstasy at the sight of his crushed, humiliated, vulnerable opponent in the ring.

Regular readers know that I typically trend toward technicians, lean bodies and fast-paced action (which is why I’d give Austin Raines my second-place trophy this month, if I had a second-place trophy). But this time around, just like Marc Merino, I’m captured and helpless to do anything other than submit in ecstasy to my reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month: Rex Braddock.

Kicking Ass and Taking Names

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When I posted the reader’s choice poll last month for the rookie with the best potential in homoerotic wrestling, I was floored to get a note from my current pick as top contender for the title of my favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy division). BG East’s Kid Karisma named a couple of the candidates he’d like to get his hands on. I assured him that I’d like very much to see his hands on them, and then I quickly followed up with an interview request. After juggling holiday travels and work obligations, we finally got on the line together for a candid interview yesterday. As you’d expect from the likes of Kid Karisma, he doesn’t pull any punches. He names names and calls them like he sees them. His blunt honesty blew me away and sent me scurrying to my library of Kid K matches to “study” them some more with his insider perspective filling in the background. So turn down the lights, kick up the house music, and settle in for a hot conversation with BG East’s hardbodied party boy himself: Kid Karisma.

Bard: So thank you so much, Kid Karisma, for talking with me today. I’m a huge fan, so this is quite a thrill! To start us off, I just wanted to share an observation: having watched several of your BG East matches, it appears to me that you enjoy dominating an opponent almost as much as your fans enjoy watching you do it. Is that accurate?

Kid Karisma: That is correct! Well, it’s not that I like to dominate. It’s more that I like to show I am in charge, and how do I make sure they understand that? I make them feel humility. [laughing]


Kid Karisma: In Charge
Bard: That sounds like a fine distinction, but I think I understand. You enjoy making sure your opponents know their place… under you and at your mercy.
Kid Karisma: Exactly! And lets face it…most of them think they can hang, but I have way too much energy!
Bard: You’ve got amazing tenacity! Well, amazing everything, but your staying power is astonishing. I’ve noticed that, sooner or later, every opponent finds himself on his back in one of your schoolboy pins with your crotch shoved in his face. First of all, excellent work! Second, do you have any holds or maneuvers that you particularly enjoy inflicting on an opponent?
Kid Karisma: Well something that I started recently in the ring is tangling someone in the ropes to show off their body and have total access to punishing them. I did it against Z-man and Jenkins…talk about fun!  And on a mat I mainly like to crank the neck towards a mirror and have them admire my strength.

Kid K teaching Z-Man the ropes of BG East wrestling
Bard: Those are two excellent strategies that I certainly recognize from your body of work (that I’ve studied extensively). I know it’s a cliché question, but I’ve got to ask it: of the 10 matches BG East has released of yours, do you have a favorite?
Kid Karisma:  Christian Taylor is just fun to wrestle…love that body! Len Harder was feisty. But Jake Jenkins was a challenge and fun, so that one easily wins.  He is small, but his wrestling background and agility made it rather difficult. Plus, imagine getting a hold of that body! Well. I don’t have to! [laughing]
Kid K can feel Jake’s body melting
Bard:  Your match with Jake is a work of art! Damn, you two are an incredible pair in the ring together, and your complete destruction of him is epic. Any particular moment of that match stand out for you, in addition to tying him up in the ropes, as you mentioned before?
Kid Karisma:  I mean, I truly got to work him over completely! But when I had him in the Boston or bent over my knee…God, you can just feel his body melting and weakening…pretty epic.
Bard: Definitely! You mentioned your match with Z-Man and tying him up in the ropes as well. There was a moment where he you hung him over the top rope like the laundry, took a step back to look at him, and then commented, “Looks damn good from over here.” What do you find attractive in an opponent?
Kid Karisma: Well, there are different things I like within all my opponents, but the one thing that always gets me is a beat down opponent.  When you look at them and you know “I just made him my bitch,” that gives me goose bumps just talking about it! I just like to win, and I just happen to be a bad ass in the process.
Bard: Well, I’ve got goose bumps now, too. You are most definitely a bad ass, in the best sense of the term! BG East describes you as 5’8″ tall and 170 pounds, but somehow I find that hard to believe. You sure can fill up a camera with all those amazing muscles! Are those stats accurate?
Kid Karisma: Well, I fluctuate. In my matches against Z-man and Jenkins I was at about 180, possibly even closer to 185. I was pretty damn solid. I have thick legs so that always gives me a very stout look.            I played rugby for many years and started again recently so that’s where that build comes from.  When I played at the University, my legs were double the size.
Bard:  My goose bumps have goose bumps now! Solid is definitely one word that springs to mind when I picture you in the ring. You’ve got amazing legs, so trying to imagine them double the size is blowing my mind! As someone who clearly, and deservedly, loves his body, what would you say is your best body part right now?

 Kid Karisma: Well if I said anything but my ass, people wouldn’t take me seriously. It’s fucking huge! And all muscle, I would like to add! But, I say my arms! I have some serious peaks on my biceps, and have you seen my tri’s?
Kid K shows off his… triceps.
Bard: When I’ve been able to tear my eyes away from your muscled ass, yes I’ve appreciated your upper arms quite a lot. Wrapped around the throat of an opponent, they’re profoundly moving to see! What sort of workout routine do you have to sculpt your body so successfully?
Kid Karisma:  I must admit I have been working out for over 13 years now. So I have done it all. But my workout mantra is Form and Focus: Proper form while focusing on the muscle and high reps work wonders. Also, it’s 80% diet. That’s the hard part.  I was raised to be a jock I guess; maybe that’s where my attitude comes from. [laughing]
Bard:  Sounds like your physique is well earned! You know, of course, that you have an army of Kid Karisma fanatics that are completely in awe of the sight of you flexing those peaked biceps over a crushed opponent. What’s it like knowing that you’ve got fans swooning over every inch of you?
Kid Karisma:  Well it is very humbling, first and foremost, I must say! I am always flattered to hear compliments (even though most are deserved), and without the fans supporting me, well you know…you were just there… The Boss wouldn’t schedule me to beat up some punks. But at the end of the day, my body helps, but it’s my attitude that my fans really love.  Look at how many worthless pretty boys wrestle for various companies. Nothing but bodies with nothing behind them, a pretty face to beat, if you ask me. The Boss honored me with kid and karisma, because he saw something. Let’s face it; I earned the right to be swooned over. Also, for every person that thinks I am hot, there is one that hates me. At the end of the day none of those punks would say it to my face though! [laughing]
           
Bard:  I think that’s really why I picture you as a foot taller and 30 pounds heavier… it’s that ferocious, huge, gigantic confidence you have! And I’m certain you are absolutely right that’s what fans are so crazy about. Well, that and your superhuman ass. So speaking of Kid Leopard, how did you first get involved with BG East? Did The Boss happen to see your gargantuan thighs sprinting down a rugby pitch?
Red Baron teaches Kid K what friends are for
Kid Karisma:  No, nothing like that. My best friend, who’s been a fan of BGE for a very long time, got the chance to audition with them a few years back. He dragged me along for moral support. The next thing I knew, I was suited up and facing off in a three-way with my friend, aka “Red Baron,” and Cage Thunder. Before I walked out the door, the BG East boys were asking for more Kid Karisma.
Bard: We all owe a debt of gratitude to Red Baron! So, personally I try to avoid bad mouthing any of you gutsy wrestlers who work so hard to bring us such pleasure, but I love to hear the dish. Any inside scoop you’d like to share about any of your competition? Any wrestlers out there that you’d like to tell us fans what you really think of them?
Kid Karisma: [Laughing] Well, there is one guy, but the match hasn’t been released. It was easily the most intense match I have ever done. He hated my guts, and he hated the fact that I was much stronger and boisterous. Here’s the deal, if you ever had a chance to meet me, you’d know that all I want is to party. So all the haters I wrestle end up partying with me, and they end up loving me! Except one! [Laughing]
           
Bard: Oh my God. As soon as that match is released, I’m hitting you up for a follow-up interview to hear more about that! You’re most recent match was against Hoyt Riley who ended up putting a tick in the Kid K loss column. How the hell did that happen?
Hoyt Riley drops some hurt on Kid K
Kid Karisma: Listen… first off, fat ass sat on me!
Bard: [laughing]
Kid Karisma: …And I was still hungover as fuck! So go him.
Bard: Sounds like that one may still sting a little. What about some of the other wrestlers you’ve faced?
Kid Karisma: Jake is like a little fucking monkey.  I have never seen someone jump around as much as him.  Too bad that didn’t help him! In the end, he is just a kid…a nice kid…and I am Kid Karisma… or also known as a bad ass!   And as much as I will get shit for this from both The Boss and the fans…who in the fucking world taught Garza to wrestle? I thought they did a better job in Mexico! I mean, I have a luchadore mask out of respect… but give me a fucking break. But he is fucking hot! You should see his ass up close…mouth watering.
Bard: Indeed, my mouth is watering as we speak!

Kid K has some ideas about what to do to Christian Taylor’s body
Kid Karisma:  And I wish I could have Christian on a mat only. The things I would do to his body. Well, yeah, your blog is x-rated, right!? [laughing]
Bard: Do NOT hold anything back on my account! This is fantastic stuff!
Kid K is confident Rocco remembers this fondly
Kid Karisma: Oh, and remember Gear Wars against Rocco?
Bard: Extremely fondly, yes I remember it.
Kid Karisma: God! He fucking thought he was God’s gift to the world. I showed him who mac daddy at the end of the day is!
Bard: That you did! He looked seriously put out to get owned so completely by you. I’d be hard pressed to believe he walked away letting bygones be bygones after he squirmed so bitterly with your ass planted on his face.
Kid Karisma: Listen…if you remember, he tried to get out of shit quick, and I let him sometimes. But he loved every second and every drop of sweat of mine on him.  I’m pretty sure he still plays with his hole thinking about my ass, socks and whatnot in his face!
Bard: [Laughing] That’s hilarious!… and seriously turning me on. We’d better change the subject before I completely lose my focus. So are there any wrestlers you haven’t faced yet who you’d like to introduce to the ropes?
Kid Karisma: It’s not like I have a thing for taller, or shorter for the matter, but tight lean bodies.
Bard: You’re ready to work over anyone with a tight, lean body?
Kid Karisma: Yeah, and some other fat ass to redeem myself! There are a couple of pretty boys out there that I would like to get my hands on.  Can I just say, “Bend over… I mean GIVE!”
Bard: I pity any opponent who isn’t in top condition when they face off with you. Strike that. I envy any opponent that faces off with you. You’re an artist! Any pretty boys you’d like to name, or should we just leave it at that?
Kid K says Kirby Stone “looks like he’d
love to get beaten by me.”
Kid Karisma: Well, there are a few out there.  You know that innocent kid, Stone or whatever…he looks like he would love to get beaten by me.  He could be fun.  Or some novice hot kid that needs a good beating into the game [laughing]. I may actually pop one for that…especially when they can’t figure out what just hit them.
Bard: Kirby Stone? Hot damn, that would be incredible! And if you “pop one,” I’m buying two copies (if we’re talking about the same thing). You’ve been incredibly generous with your time and remarkably candid! I feel like you’ve given us some amazing insight into what makes you such a hot commodity in the ring and on the mat. Before I let you go, is there anything else that you’d like fans to know about you when you aren’t conquering one pretty boy after another for BG East?
Kid Karisma: You are very welcome, and it was definitely fun chatting with you, even though I got a bit wordy here and there. You know us shit talkers can’t help it! [laughing]  I want to thank everyone for their continued support while I am developing as a wrestler, and there are many more hot matches planned that continue showing me at what I do best: kicking ass and taking names! Also, remember that without all of the supporters out there, I won’t get to demolish hot ass boys…and what a shame that would be. I also would like to thank you for taking the time to talk to me, and it definitely has been a pleasure. Plus it’s awesome to have someone so attentive listen to me rant! [laughing]
Bard: The pleasure, I assure you, is entirely mine! On behalf of a whole lot of us, we can’t wait to watch you put more pretty boys in their place, and by that I mean sandwiched between your monster thighs, crushed beneath your epic ass, or choked by your python arms! We’ll keep buying them and loving them as long as you keep knocking them down!
           
Kid Karisma: Sweet. Have a good day!
Bard: You too!

Kid Karisma, ready to party

Cleaning House – 2012

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Return visitors will notice that I took the opportunity to remodel around here just a titch. My New Year’s ritual involves a facelift around neverland, along with cleaning out a few broken links, correcting misspelled labels, painting the walls. My other routine is taking advantage of some hunky help to do the chores and make the work a little more like play.

After a sloppy night of over-doing it on New Year’s Eve, it was Daniel’s fine ass nominating itself to get put to work and worked on to kick off my New Year right. I put the hunky muscle model to work cleaning up the kitchen first, where his alcohol-induced mania went nuts with the baking supplies the night before.

I have to admit, the hot Aussie works as enthusiastically as he plays. The handsome muscle boy quickly got on his knees, wiping up flour from underneath every appliance. I, on the other hand, was awfully distracted by Daniel’s gorgeous muscle ass in nothing but his briefs. I spent a good deal of yesterday just leaning on my broom and studying the Aussie’s butt swaying back and forth as he scrubbed so diligently.

I’ve got a soft spot for a hot hunk with an accent (relative to my own flat West Coast U.S. dialect). That soft spot, in turn, tends to inspire a hard spot in my pants, particularly when a party-hearty muscle stud pulls out the furniture polish and rambles on good-naturedly, calling me “mate.”

Daniel is a fastidious house cleaner, my friends, and that’s incredibly arousing in a devastatingly handsome physique star. By the time he fished the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and began scaring the dog, hoovering every inch of my place and working up a fresh, musky sweat, I was done with cleaning.  It was time for me to get good and dirty.

For a hunk so skilled at cleaning, it was a little surprising (and very exciting) to discover what a dirty fighter Daniel is! We pushed the furniture against the walls in the living room to give us a bit of room. I had just pushed the piano bench under the piano when I felt a massive bicep slide across the front of my throat like a boa constrictor. The bitch tried to apply a sneak attack rear choke!

Now, Daniel is about 5 inches taller and a good 35 pounds heavier than I am, so I’m not ashamed to say that I worked up a sweat just blocking his opening attack. I managed to slide the fingers of both hands between my throat and his bicep, and with considerable effort kept my brain supplied with both blood and air. His lightly hairy, powerful pecs pressed distractingly into my shoulder blades. And my spirit nearly broke when I felt the brush of his lips against my right ear, whispering, “How does that feel, mate?”

I slipped my right fingers out from underneath his bicep and quickly jabbed my elbow backward into the pretty boy’s abdomen. Now, you might guess with abs like his my elbow would’ve bounced off harmlessly. But mighty Daniel is a little bit of a sloppy grappler, and the elbow caught him off guard. With his six-pack relatively relaxed, my blow sunk in. The unexpected pain shoved the air out of the Aussie’s lungs and loosened his hold across my throat. With both our bodies already lubricated with sweat, I slipped free entirely.

Face to face with the Aussie hunk, I could see the fading vestiges of pain evaporating from his face as he grinned sadistically. “Australian rules, mate,” he growled. “Meaning: there are no rules!” He reached for the back of my neck with both hands. His puckered lips were quickly approaching my own surprised mouth. And then, shockingly, I kid you not: the bitch kneed me in the balls!

It was a choice blow, my friends. I dropped to my knees with sparks of electric pain filling my vision. By the time my sight cleared, the Aussie was pulling my face into his bulging crotch. He dragged my nose in a slow, humiliating circle all around his groin. Having me at his mercy, on my knees and pressed against him was quite obviously making Daniel all sorts of happy. And I will not lie, despite the ache stretching up my lower abdomen from my bashed balls, there was for quite a while no other place I’d rather be in the world!  I began working on the big Aussie’s rod with my lips and mouth through the fabric of his briefs. My oral offensive had the desired effect. Daniel was swelling harder and groaning louder by the second. When I began tugging his briefs down, he put up no fight at all. He just stared down at me like I was brunch as I slid the fabric down his thick, hairy thighs.

What Daniel had yet to learn was that, when necessary, I can play dirty, too. I gave his golf balls a quick jab with my left fist that made him double over, clutching his crotch. With my right hand, I shoved his forehead backward with all my strength, sending him dropping to his ass, his mouth gaping wide in shocked pain. I quickly tied his ankles together with the damp fabric of his briefs and then spun across his body to sit squarely across his face, facing his luscious, sweaty, naked body.

Those pecs… holy fuck! You knew those pecs were going to get some special attention before long, now didn’t you? I reigned down fists into that beefy chest so long that my fingers started to get numb. The Aussie’s pecs flexed rock hard at first, deflecting the blows, but even quality beef like his will get tenderized sooner or later. His muffled groans underneath my ass grew louder as his pecs grew softer, my knuckles digging deeper and deeper into the bouncing flesh. He tried to lift his knees defensively, but with his ankles tied together, his powerful legs were relatively easy to swat away harmlessly. When I suddenly dug my claws in deep, prying at the much more than handful’s of quivering muscle, Daniel’s hips lunged off the floor. He bridged high, his big Aussie cock flopping from side to side. With all that temptation so near at hand, I had no choice but to release my left clawhold on his pec and grab the python writhing desperately from the base of his crotch.

Daniel almost instantly began to grow hard in my grasp. Good God, that man’s cock is every inch as stunning as every inch of the rest of him!  When my fingers and thumb could no longer quite touch wrapped around his beer can, I completely lost my concentration. My right hand, as if of a mind of its own, joined my left hand in double-fisting the work of art. His hips began thrusting in time with my strokes. It felt like I was part of a very well (sweat) lubricated sex machine. I had absolutely no thought in mind other than the desperate desire to see that jackhammer explode.

With no other thought in my mind, it’s no wonder that the remarkable Aussie was able to dislodge me from his face and send me sliding across the floor. He was on his feet, kicking his briefs off from his ankles, and bending over me before I knew it. His stellar erection swayed like a ship’s mast directly over head. Muscling me off the floor, I was shocked by his power. He smoothly hooked his right arm between my legs and had me racked across his  broad, beautiful shoulders helplessly. Damn, the boy can apply some expert pain! My lower back was in agony as he yanked down hard on my chin and ankles, bending me like rubber around the back of his neck.

He began talking to me in that gorgeous accent again. Even as he was torturing my back, he told me about wrestling his mates as he grew up. With all that power completely controlling me, it wasn’t hard to believe him when he said that it took three of his mates working on him at one time to make him submit. I gasped in shock as he bounced me up and over his head suddenly. I fell for what seemed like an eternity before the small of my back landed with a crunch, bent backward across the Aussie’s outstretched leg. The agony was exquisite. He slid his left hand into my trunks to give my fully erect cock a playful squeeze. Everything hurt so bad. Everything felt so good!

Daniel decisively turned the tables on my New Year’s plans yesterday. He played me like a pipe organ, crushing, twisting, clawing and pounding every inch of me. I don’t remember when my trunks came off, but it was definitely sometime before the Boston crab, because I distinctly remember Daniel’s transition to a single leg so that he could reach down and claw my naked testicles with his free hand. He could’ve ended it pretty much anytime after that over-the-knee backbreaker, but like the high class houseguest he is, he milked it for over an hour.  He’d pause for a breather every so often, checking to see if I’d had enough yet. Hell, no. Then he’d be back on me with renewed ferocity, burying my face in his pecs, then between his knees, then squeezed high up between his thighs with nothing in my sight except his gorgeous round glutes. I was well past the point of exhaustion, but nowhere near ready to bring this exquisite beating to an end, when I felt his hairy pecs press against my shoulder blades once again and that right arm squeeze across my throat like a boa constrictor one more time. Ah, fuck! I thought. All this fun was, without a doubt, about to come to an end. Sweat poured off my brow and onto his bicep as he squeezed precisely, sliding his bicep to the right of my windpipe and pressing it against my carotid artery. The last thing I remember was the raging heat of his body pressed against my back as he lowered me to my knees.

I woke up some indeterminate time later in bed, staring into Daniel’s milky green eyes. “Happy New Year, mate!” he said with a devilish grin as he slapped my ass. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he whispered. “We both need a shower!”

So things did not go the way I planned for New Year’s day. A hot hunk with hairy pits and pornstar pecs caught me completely by surprise. And truth be told, in retrospect, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I think this is going to be a year of getting upended, blindsided, having my plans tossed out the window. And if Daniel taught me anything yesterday, he taught me that sometimes that may be the best thing in the world.

Happy New Year, mate.

Cleaning House – 2012

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It was another rip roaring New Year’s eve at chez Bard last night. I’m happy to report that I was surrounded by beautiful men toasting to fresh new dreams for the coming year. As seems so often to happen on this night of nights, copious quantities of alcohol were consumed. Things may have been said that, in the light of day, might be regretted. Not everyone went home with the same partner he came with. All is fair on New Year’s Eve, I say.

New Year’s Day, however, is another matter. This place looks like a bomb went off. Trash, bottles, streamers in every corner. How the hell did my big, cushy living room chair turn up upside down (and why!)?  Everything in the kitchen is coated in flour (yes, I checked, it’s just flour). Shit, once again I’m spending the dawn of the new year putting the house back in order.

It turns out not everyone went home last night/this morning. As I plucked trash off the couch, I uncovered Daniel still sound asleep in his navy blue briefs. Suddenly, my memory flashed back on how all that flour ended up all over the kitchen.

That bitch, Daniel. I’d smack around several more of the partiers if I had the opportunity, but I don’t. So once I make Daniel got off his fine, bubble butt and help me clean this mess up, I’m taking out some of my new year’s frustrations on his finely muscled body and drop dead gorgeous face.

This will take some time. I’ll update you as soon as my annual cleaning here at neverland is finished, and report back on how the action turns out with Daniel. Wish him luck. He and all those muscles of his are going to need it!

Year in Review – Favorite Moment of 2011

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It’ll come as no surprise to regular readers that my favorite moment of this year was my pilgrimage to BG East.  Work sent me to Boston for several weeks in the hottest, nastiest part of the summer. Despite the weather, I enjoyed the opportunity to visit a couple of the holy sites, including Club Paradise where classic BG East oil matches were taped, and the old spot across the street from Fenway Park where Live at Metro was taped.

Club Paradise hosted some seriously sexy oil wrestling back in the day.

As exciting as it was tracking down sites of homoerotic wrestling significance in Boston, nothing came close to the thrill of spending an afternoon at BG East headquarters just outside of Boston with The Boss, Kid Leopard himself, and the boys of BG East.

The Boss was a generous host.

I was in awe as I was treated to a tour of the facilities that I recognized from years of watching BG East wrestling. The Wrestle Shack, the Gazebo, the Backyard… strolling the grounds had me seeing visions of some of the classic scenes of outdoor wrestling that I cherish in my homoerotic wrestling library.

Homage to the minds and bodies that make wrestling erotic.

The tour indoors was even more titillating. The Boss walked me down to the gym and the Mat Room. My heart pounded to set foot on the mats where so much sexy, sweaty action had taken place. Awestruck, I studied every inch of the place to try to cement this moment in my memory.

The BG East Ring Room left me speechless!

Climbing up to the top floor of the BG East headquarters, my heart pumped hardest when Jonny Firestorm and Kid Vicious joined the tour as The Boss welcomed me to the Ring Room.  Seeing the wrestling ring where so much homoerotic wrestling that I’ve enjoyed so passionately has taken place was nearly an out of body experience for me.

The brains and brawn that is BG East

What stays with me most profoundly as I look back on a remarkable, thrilling year in homoerotic wrestling fanaticism is the pleasure of sharing time with people who share this passion for wrestling.  The boys at BG East were delightful, hospitable and generous. They cracked me up with their sharp witted senses of humor. These guys live and eat homoerotic wrestling. The walls are literally covered with wrestling inspiration. They eagerly debated with me the state of the industry and the impact of evolving technology. They described the challenge of supplying homoerotic wrestling entertainment for such diverse, opinionated, eagerly engaged fans of wrestling kink. I got the scoop that we’ll be seeing more of homoerotic wrestling icon Brad Rochelle. I sat down right next to Kid Leopard himself to scroll through hundreds of photos of, at that point, unreleased wrestling matches, studying the hot images and discussing wrestlers, venues and gear.

It’s wrestling everywhere you look at BG East!

As I think about it, all of my most favorite moments this year were all about people.  This was a fantastic year for me to be a homoerotic wrestling fan because of so many opportunities to enjoy getting to know a little more personally some headliner wrestlers, producers and artists. It was an awesome year to collaborate with co-authors and compare tastes with fellow fans and bloggers. 2011 was full of fun and games of the hottest variety, and I hope for nothing but more of the same for all fans of homoerotic wrestling in the year to come. See you in 2012, my friends!