Another Ode to Mitch

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The preview of BG East’s newest catalogue (available through their Arena membership service) doesn’t include any new matches featuring Mitch Colby, sadly. I’m looking forward to seeing more of some of the recent additions to their stable of talent, though, including Kid Karisma and Rio Garza.


I’ve received a couple of messages from folks mentioning that they’re with me in appreciating Mitch. I recently enjoyed a viewing of Mitch’s older match against Bobby Horton in BG East’s Backyard Brawls 5. The Patrick Donovan/Alexi Adamov match earlier on this DVD is more satisfying for sweaty, close-up muscle pounding. Mitch’s match takes place, for the most part, in a pool, so the camera angles are from a little bit of a distance, you can only see what’s above water, and delectable sweat is washed away. Horton plays a nice smart-ass punk in need of a beating, and Mitch, God-bless him, gives even better than he takes. I like the story line including Bobby’s reluctant concession that Mitch is “the man,” though the match ends without anyone really feeling the love. No nudity, moderate sadism (including Mitch bound to a tree and gut-punched), and a nice opening scene of Mitch oiling himself up with sunscreen.
Speaking of binding Mitch, for those keeping track of such things, Mitch did a hardcore bottom role for Showguys.com with Manuel Torres. The Kink.com network also produced Mitch getting tortured by boyfaced Dak Ramsey on BoundGods.com. Too many accessories for my taste (where do you find wooden clothespins these days?), but I’m sure it’s right up a lot of guys’ alleys (so to speak).

I’m happy to share Mitch across genres, and I’m happy for him to have plenty of work to keep him busy these days. But as for me, I’m rooting to see more of Mitch wrestling, suffering, dominating, and then claiming his hard-earned prize.

What Turned Me Gay (again, not really)

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Saturday afternoons were frequently gay-indoctrination times for me. TV networks used to run old movies on Saturday afternoons, I assume because they could buy the rights for cheap. That’s how I was introduced to Tarzan and Hercules. That’s also how I was introduced to A Kid for Two Farthings.

I must have been around 13 years old when I saw it first. It was pre-porn featuring actual wrestler-turned-actor Joe Robinson as a complete narcissist bodybuilder. Women threw themselves at Joe’s character, but he was too busy pinning up photos of beautiful hardbody boys clipped from bodybuilding magazines , and then taping them up to his walls (hey! I did that!).
The movie takes a quick turn from bodybuilding to bodybuilder wrestling (excellent!). Despite Joe’s reluctance to get into the pro-wrestling ring (“Nothing doing! Wrestling’s the worst thing in the world you can do for muscle development.”), he’s lured into the ring to defend the challenge to his manhood by the actual boxer-turned-pro-wrestler Primo Carnera (also seen throwing down with Steve Reeves in Hercules Unchained).

At one point in A Kid Joe’s character learns he’s become the coverboy for the magazine “Body Beautiful” (hey! I secretly bought muscle mags like that to lust after the beef!).
There are only a couple of actual wrestling matches, and most of the camera angles are from miles away, but from what I got to see of Joe Robinson in his impressively stuffed tight green trunks and floppy blond hair, he instantly became my hero-wrestler dreamboat. Of course he’s so cocky that he thinks his sheer brawn will make him victorious, despite his lack of skills. He’s impetuous and, well, pretty dense. He has to suffer because of his hard body, his blond hair, his cocky overconfidence, his simpleminded goodness. And he suffers nicely, particularly in a long, crushing bodyscissors in the middle of the ring.
He breaks a sweat, which you know how much I love! He even sits low into a pretty convincing boston crab, giving us a glimpse of his decent, muscle ass in action.

Joe Robinson in A Kid for Two Farthings taught me the notion of the chick-block, particularly that closet-strategy of throwing yourself into some esoteric obsession as an excuse to keep out of the clutches of horny women. He taught me that the bodybuilder/wrestler crossover is smoking hot! He taught me that pretty, blond muscle boys are always cocky, and they always must suffer terribly in the ring. And he taught me that, just like all those women in the movie, the only appropriate way to treat a hardbody narcissist is with awed, lustful, body worship.
Yep, all that I learned by the age of 13, thanks to A Kid for Two Farthings. As an adult, I purchased the film for nostalgia’s sake, but it can now be downloaded in chunks on YouTube, in case you’d like to review any of these important lessons.

The Substance of Wrestling

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I’ve seen this photo posted in several different locations in the past two days, so I’m a johnny-come-lately to paying tribute to our new World Gravy Wrestling Champion, Joel Hicks. Socialite Life tells a little more of the story. Here are a few more photos 30 year old dream(gravy)boat Joel. I could only find a couple of him actually wrestling. Here he looks like he’s doing some nice suffering, getting thrown down to into the gravy.

There’s a provocative shot of Joel, apparently right in the throes of a victory pose, about to get a beat down from the skinny punk with the chair. My God, how did I not know about this event!? My God, our World Champion has beautiful, gravy-coated thighs!
This got me to thinking about other media for wrestling. I posted recently about oil, and also mentioned lube. Naked Kombat has some wrestling in falling water that’s sort of a trip, and BG East has a few wrestling matches in a swimming pool (they seem to like putting Mitch Colby in the water). But I could only find a couple more places for food-wrestling -fetishists to get their licks/kicks. There’s jello wrestling, but I don’t consider jello food, and it looks like it’s mostly a “babe” thing.

An early Vancouver production for Can-Am featured Mark Wolff and a couple of other naked boys cleaning out the fridge and wrestling in the food on the floor of a little galley kitchen. Canadian Built Wrestle Club 2 had can’t-miss Mark Wolff going for it, but the ketchup and other edibles seem a little contrived for my tastes (to each his own, though).

The only other food-themed wrestling I could find was a clip from Thunder’s Arena that I can’t find in their online store, so I’m suspecting it may be a members-only vid. It features three massively muscled boys getting into a throw-down over white bread.

Frankly, I’m not finding anything from the pros that’s peaking my interest in food-wrestling as much as that dirty, hunky Brit Joel, so once last photo of our reigning World Champ!

Bryce beating Bruce’s bongo butt

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Ass-slapping is all about domination in wrestling. It’s 100% humiliation. The slap on the ass is the application of the proverbial “X marks the spot.” It’s gratuitously making the point, “This belongs to me, now.” The matches where they act like a swat across the ass is somehow debilitating make me lose my ability to suspend disbelief. They claw and slam and squeeze and pound one another, but it’s the swat across the ass that leaves a jobber writhing in pain? No, the ass slap is the homoerotic icing on the cake that says, “I’m taking possession of this piece of meat for my own sadistic kicks.”

Early in his career, Brad Rochelle seemed to be trying to figure out if he was destined to be the jobber. After getting thrown around and taken advantage of in his first few matches, Brad executed a very nice squash on equally ripped Billyboy (who I think is aging backward into Rupert Grint) in Demolition 2. Brad experiments with the privileges of ownership with some dominating humiliation, including a loud crack across Billyboy’s thonged ass.

Muscle jobber Christopher Bruce has always had a beautiful, round butt begging to be owned. And in his classic matches for BG East, he nearly always got owned. I don’t think he’s ever gone the full-monty (PLEASE someone correct me if I’m wrong!), but his bouncy derriere has featured prominently in most of his matches that I’ve seen. After a long hiatus, Bruce made a “comeback” in BG East, starting with getting savagely, satisfyingly wedgied at the hands of heel Cole Cassidy in Demolition 10. Somehow, the wedgie seems to paralyze Bruce, like Samson getting his locks cut or something. Regardless of the plot, the display of Bruce’s spellbinding cheeks is worth the price of admission. Can’t decide if I’d prefer to be owned by Cole or own Christopher. Thank goodness BG East helps me imagine both scenarios.

Christopher Bruce (that’s “Mr. Bruce” to you) has apparently migrated to Florida to shoot a few jobs (and I mean jobs) for Thunder’s Arena. I’ve been chuckling ever since I ran across Thunders Arena’s trailer for Mat Rats 13. You have to watch all the way to the end to catch Christopher’s clone, Bryce, playing the bongos on Bruce’s jiggling ass. It’s hilarious, humiliating, and totally hot!
Perhaps the best part of a muscle-ass in the wrestling ring isn’t how it adds to the wrestling, but how it serves as the seat of power for the dominating man to claim his prize.

A Couple of Updates on Favorites

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I’ve just been revisiting some of my favorite online obsessions. I can’t get enough of former kids-wrestling show star Levi James playing bass for his band, Irreverents, in Vancouver, BC. Levi is one beautiful, muscly, sweaty bass player. Check out the MySpace page for cuts of their music (listen to “Rubber World”). He clearly sells his performances with the same abandon that he camped it up in Los Luchadores. I’m dying to get a clearer look at the tats down his ribcage. Fantastic!
Also, a day after I posted that Rock Hard Wrestling’s MySpace page indicated that they would be launching in August, it was updated to indicate a launch “later this year.” Nothing else new to report that I can find, but I thought I’d point out that blondboy Tommy Clark is pictured barefoot, which will immediately make him my favorite, if they ever breath life into that link.

Eat Off It

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I’m still mulling over the role of a muscled, round ass in the wrestling ring. I remember catching the very short-lived, Real Pro Wrestling about four years ago. By far, the highlight of that series was Tommy Rowlands eye-popping ass. You could tell from the front that Tommy was a feast for the eyes, with those tree trunk thighs.

But (butt) the view from behind was jaw-dropping. Even Tommy’s opponent, who beat him soundly in the finals, couldn’t resist it. Controlling Tommy’s back, Cormier reached down and planted a completely gratuitous slap across that magnetic derriere. Initially, when photographer Danielle posted her photos of RPW, she permitted viewer comments. The close up of Tommy’s ass, just after he was beaten for the championship, featured comment after comment from men remarking on what they’d like to do with that ridiculously round butt (I particularly liked the “eat off it” comment). Danielle removed all the comments (prude), but thankfully the photos still document the marvel that was Tommy Rowlands ass in lycra.

I’m free associating just a little today, but I also wanted to mention this match posted by matbaskin on YouTube. It’s a fun, short match that features the novelty of an intentionally bare ass in the pro-ring. The Chippen Devil gimmick is pretty cute, though the guy is clearly a little distracted by the choreography and mechanics of the routine. But once he rips off his tear-away sweat pants (did I mention that his name is Chippen Devil?), he actually looks much more comfortable. His low-swinging pouch really sells the novelty, but his thonged ass, as much as the camera lets us see, looks round and luscious.

Completing my free association for the day, speaking of swinging pouches and rounded asses, this guy is just adorable, with his policeman-strip routine (be warned, full on nudity here on gaytube!). I have to say I’m a little anxious as I watch him, fearing he’s going to dislocate something (or put an eye out). But he’s nothing if not sincere and enthusiastic, and that (in addition to the wildly swinging cock and round white ass) is enough to put a smile on my face. Don’t know if he wrestles, but I’d pay money to watch it.

Adoring the Assets

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I’ve been re-reading my recent posts (is that narcissistic?), and noting a pattern. A couple of weeks ago I was infatuated with pecs. It appears that I’ve now become fixated on butts. I’m not always all about big muscle butts. Lots of times a tight, compact caboose is entirely satisfying. But from recent posts, I’m starting to put my finger on (“ON” I said!) big, solid, muscular asses as my new body-part obsession.


In wrestling, a muscled ass can provide nice leverage… or a helpful handhold. More than a couple of the matches in my wrestling fiction feature face-sitting. I wrote Brad Pitt exacting a particularly humiliating face-sitting submission from Sean Faris well before I’d heard that Brad won “best celebrity butt” in some online poll. I’ve adored his ass ever since A River Ran Through It.
A beautiful reverse, face-first head scissors is, of course, an opportunity for a nice, wrestling butt to come in handy. Chris Geary has a nice variation on a figure-4 head scissors that makes me envy the jobber.
Of course there are more gorgeous butts than there are gorgeous butts wrestling, so we just have to use our imaginations. Here are just a few of the butts I find exemplary, which I’d love to see getting put to good use in the ring. First, I once again wax poetic as I ponder Mehcad Brook’s bodacious butt.
Sexy Black Dudes has several exposés (so to speak) on ample asses. I like this angle on model Brandon Parker.

Mario Lopez sports a fantastic ass (thank you Nip/Tuck). His dimples just cry out for someone to beat him senseless in the ring, though. I enjoyed writing a match between Mario and his Broadway rival, Nick Adams. The two of them got press for a muscle-off a couple of years ago, so I wanted to throw them both in the ring and see who came out on top. Personally, I’d be happy to just see the two of them walking away (slowly).

The Substance of Wrestling

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I’m not sure of what sick puppy thought of oil wrestling… but I like his thinking. Of course there’s the Turkish Oil wrestling that suddenly appeared everywhere on the internet a few years back. I still have no idea what the cultural meaning is behind these boys coating themselves in olive oil and shoving their hands down each other’s pants, but I’ve been assured that it’s not sexual. I am willing to concede that it very well may not be sexual at all… to them.
The more explicitly homoerotic version of oil wrestling, or its spawn, lube wrestling, is everywhere. Most of the time its a novelty grope-fest, so it doesn’t satisfy a fetish for hot, aggressive pounding. But it certainly has its own charm. Brit go-go boy Chris Geary has been filming himself and his go-go boy friends wrestling for years now, including several oil matches.
BG East did a few early “filmed on location” oil tapes at a gay club called Paradise. Some of my favorite classic boys show up, including the prototypical bodybuilder-jobber, Wade Cutler. BG East didn’t do much else in the medium until recently having Rafe Sanchez and Sebastian Rios oil each other down (mmmm…. Rafe….).

Can-Am has done over 100 matches taking place, at least in part, in oil. Their recurring script for almost every match used to be: 1) studs wrestle in gear in a ring, 2) studs wrestle in gear in oil pit, 3) studs wrestle naked in oil. I haven’t sampled all the goods, but in case anyone’s looking for recommendations, my first Can-Am purchase ever was Canadian Musclehunk Oil Wrestling 3, with the incomparable ass of Jimmy Royce. Another classic I recently discovered is Can-Am’s early workhorse “Flex” squeezing a totally dominating headlock while erect and nude and straddling the legs of twisted-like-a-pretzel Tom MacKenzie in Hard Nude Oil Wrestling 2. Sometimes it’s nice to see muscleboys get owned… sometimes it’s nice to see them do the owning.
Newer company Naked Kombat has done a few matches in oil (and water, and mud). I like the shiny bodies in Tyler Saint vs. Patrick Rouge, and the audience adds a nice voyeur-performance aspect. But one of my very favorite all-time homoerotic wrestling vids is from BG Wrestling. They’re online store appears to be down, but you can find a lot of their titles at the Can-Am Store. Fantasty Oil Wrestling 4, with Rocky and Talvin Demachio is a prized possession. When Demachio wraps up Rocky in a tight little package and strokes himself at the same time… it brings a little tear to my eye.
Seriously, oil doesn’t make for hard-fought dominating action (unless you’re a Turk), but the tactile look and sounds of muscled bodies slapping and sliding make for an entirely enjoyable sub-genre.

What Turned Me Gay (again, not really)

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Jon-Erik Hexum made me gay. Well, not personally. I never met him. And, frankly, I was already consciously attracted to guys by the time I first saw him on television. But he’s got to take some of the credit for sparking the sexual imaginations of many of us gay boys at that time.

I was just about the age of young Meeno Peluce when he starred opposite Hexum in the very short-run television show Voyagers. So I was the target audience (in more than one way, I’m sure). Peluce’s character was the nerdy kid who Jon-Erik’s character came to rely on as he traveled through time, getting the both of them into all sorts of adventures. Jon-Erik didn’t really know how to use that little pocket-watch/time traveling device, so Meeno had to operate it for him. Meeno was the brains and Jon-Erik was the brawn (and I mean brawn!).

Jon-Erik protected the kid and clearly grew to love him. A notorious womanizer, Jon-Erik’s character had to forgo his sexual conquests to hang out with his dependent ward. He ALWAYS had his shirt open, showing his beautifully hairy chest, and not infrequently he appeared shirtless and sweaty (mmmm….). Those eyes… that smile… that BODY! Oh, how I wanted a hunky time-traveler to stumble into my bedroom and carry me off to accompany him on his shirtless adventures!

After Voyagers went off the air, I kept my eyes peeled for more of Jon-Erik. When he landed a new series, Cover Up, I was tuned in eagerly anticipating more of his thrilling hotness. I remember when I heard the news that he had died in a freak accident on the set of Cover Up. I actively grieved. It was like someone I knew and loved had died. My family had no idea what I was experiencing, but I had so identified with the kid from Voyagers, so pictured myself with Jon-Erik as my companion, protector, and I his loving ward – I was devastated.

There are a lot of fan sites devoted to Jon-Erik, with more than a few of us gay boys testifying to our adoration of the magnetic hunk. The tribute group to Jon-Erik Hexum has a stunningly large catalogue of images of him. His life was tragically cut far too short, but he remains always and lovingly in my memory as the gorgeous, sexy, bright blue-eyed, 27 year old hunk that made me very happy to be a gay boy.

What We See Every Day

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I’ve heard a theory that what we grow to lust after as adults is based on what was available during our sexual development in adolescence. In other words, I find wrestling homoerotic because, as an adolescent, wrestling was the only place that I saw scantily clad men in intimate physical contact. I don’t know if it’s true, but I could buy it. To paraphrase Clarice Starling, we covet what we see every day (that’s a creepy line in Silence of the Lambs, but I don’t mean it in a creepy way).

Perhaps that explains my lustful preoccupation with these gorgeous hunks who show up in my home every day – that is, the hunky newsmen on television. Every day, Chris Cuomo – in all his Italian hotness – shows up and smiles out from the TV. It also helps to make an object of lust out of him, knowing that underneath that suit and tie, he’s one stunningly muscled man. My God, look at those biceps and the vascularity in that deltoid!

Carter Evans does spots on some local news channels covering the NYSE in the mornings, so he’s also become a familiar hottie showing up in my living room regularly. Those dreamy, bedroom eyes and that adorably crooked nose propel him often into my lustful fantasies. We never get to see enough of these hunks to really satisfy (though thank God for fishing trips!), which is probably why the first wrestling fiction matches I wrote featured newsboys, stripping down to speedos and pounding on the beach in no-holds-barred competition. In fact, the first championship match in my wrestling fiction universe pitted Carter against Chris (you’ll have to sign up to find out who won).
Peter Alexander shows up less frequently in my living room. I’m busy coveting my time with Cuomo in the mornings, so I miss Peter’s occasional reports on the Today Show. But I once saw Peter working out at my gym when he was a local anchor many years ago. He was hot and sweaty and doing hack squats. A sexual fantasy star was born. Peter will have to show up soon in the battle of the newsmen in my wrestling fiction.
In any case, I think the world is full of beautiful men to fuel fantasies and bring smiles. From the hunky news anchor to the hot bike commuter with massive thighs stretching his bicycle shorts to their limit… from the tattooed produce guy at the grocery store to the shirtless jogger with bouncing pecs at the park. It’s a sexy, lustful, beautiful world, especially for a gay man with an active imagination.