Virtual Pilgrimage

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It turns out that neverland isn’t the only spot that’s staked out new digs.  None other than BG East’s Boss sent me an incredibly sweet housewarming present for neverland, in the form of several photos of BG East’s new south campus facilities. We’ve seen some glimpses of the new setting, including Gold Shaft’s erotic initiation of babyface angel Lauden Sevior in Sunshine Shooters 6. The Boss told me that in the handful of months it’s been in operation, their new Florida digs have been the setting for more than 30 matches taped already, not to mention hosting visiting wrestlers overnight and providing the background for whatever off camera calisthenics they get up to.  While I’m still hanging the pictures on the walls here at sidelineland.com, I can identify with what is obviously a bit of excitement on the part of the BG East boys about setting up their new facilities, placing things where they should go, crafting a blank canvas into the ideal context for supercharged homoerotic wrestling to happen.

Reiterating BG East’s long-standing mantra of being a wrestling company run by wrestlers, we can see in this first batch of photos of the initial set-up of the new facilities that it’s the boys on camera making what’s off camera work. I’ve frequently remarked on certain homoerotic wrestlers whose bodies are built in such a way that there’s simply no better application of their beautiful brawn than to rip off their clothes and throw them into a wrestling ring. From these shots, clearly the second most perfect application of all that beautiful brawn is serving as stage crew.

If you like what you see and are interested in renting the new second holiest site in the world of BG East, you very well may be in luck. Between BG East tapings, these facilities are available for private rental. Can you imagine inviting a group of your closest hardbodied wrestling-and-fuck-buddies to Florida for an overnight orgy of homoerotic wrestling with the sights, smells, and psychic imprint of BG East’s gorgeous stars surrounding you? I can!  The facilities include a kitchen, a massage room, a shower and 2 baths, as well. To see about reserving the space for your (or my) birthday blowout, drop an email to the BGE boy in charge of the south campus: ziowrestler@yahoo.com.  Tell them Bard sent you, in case I get a commission (I won’t).

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Lorenzo Lowe and Ray Naylor put hot wrestling muscles to their second-best use.
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Jonny Firestorm is pumped with excitement for BG East’s new Florida facilities
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Did The Boss open a new facility primarily for the wall space it provides for his huge collection of wrestling art?
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The kitchen that fuels hungry hunks
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Massage room set up to pound out the aches and pains from hard, hot wrestling action
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Is Jonny Firestorm there to give or get a massage? Either way, count me in!
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The new matroom when it was a blank canvas
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The new matroom getting broken in with the sweat and tears (and other bodily fluids) of BG East’s gorgeous wrestlers (yet-to-be-released action)
Jake v Steven.
Speaking of fluids, Lorenzo Lowe and ginger rookie hunk Steve Ponce made excellent use of the new matroom in the extremely-soon-to-be-released X-Fights 35

Here’s Looking at You

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My recent interview with Muscle Master Kevin, resident boss at Muscle Domination Wrestling, sparked precisely the conversation and contention I expected it would.  MDW is the newest kid on the homoerotic wrestling block, and in carving out their unique niche in the market, they’ve straddled some lines that leave many titillated, some provoked, and at least a few uncomfortable. I have to say that I found Kevin remarkably thoughtful and well-spoken, embracing a non-defensive posture even while addressing concerns that MDW’s domination/submission focused products may appeal to the internalized homophobia some of their gay audience. Agree with him or not about the quality and meaning of the content, Kevin’s motto is clearly centered on giving fans what they want.  I really hadn’t been exposed to much of the more “controversial” content at MDW, so Kevin sent along both a primarily wrestling-focused match and a primarily sub/dom themed squash for me to sample.  Here’s my take on MDW’s sub-dom demonstration, Glove Fetish Beatdown.

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Muscle Master Kevin is not here to “instruct.”

I had to look up the name of Kevin’s opponent from the website, because he’s called a lot of things in these 23 minutes, but never his actual name. The lean, boldly tatted kid is called Hunter James, which seems like a much bolder name than befits a deer-in-the-headlights like he is in this squash.  When I say squash, I mean that this is 100% Kevin. Hunter has zero offense. His contribution to this scene is almost entirely limited to his screams, wails, and anguished cries of pain.  He apparently thinks he’s here to get some instruction in full contact combat, donning nothing but sparring gloves and mid-thigh undergear.  His mere suggestion that Muscle Master Kevin might be his “instructor” sends the boss over the edge, initiating non-stop brutality that grinds Hunter physically and, especially, psychologically into the mat. Within seconds, Kevin has beaten the air out of his lungs and driven the kid to the edge of panic and despair. As Kevin promises, this is going to be a long night for young Hunter James.

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Total domination and the display of hot asses!

There are some sweet highlights of moves and holds that stroke the wrestling kink fanatic in me just fine.  There’s a moment when Kevin has Hunter’s noggin trapped high and tight between his thighs. Kevin rolls him over and repeatedly lifts his hips, and then drives his opponent’s forehead into the mat. Fuck, I love that move. The total humiliation and ownership is incredibly tasty. Kev’s hot ass rises and falls over and over, stoking me harder and harder. Hunter’s face plows repeatedly into the mat.  He’s got nothing as he’s pounded into a limp, dizzy mess.  Kevin finally rises on his knees, Hunter’s head still trapped between them, and flexes his biceps, showing off his gorgeous V and powerful shoulders. Yes, I get way into that maneuver whenever I see it, and Kevin works it beautifully.

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Kevin’s got him right where he wants him.

The dicier moments for political correctness come no sooner than about halfway through the scenario. Kevin has been unloading a steady barrage of soul-withering trash talk the entire time, battering to pieces Hunter’s ego-strength and demonstrating with words and actions that he’s a mealy worm next to the power and domination of Muscle Master Kevin. Misogynistic themes that, let’s face it, run throughout homoerotic wrestling are peppered liberally throughout, as Kevin berates his opponent as a bitch and a pussy.  Then when he’s crushing Hunter’s windpipe with a nasty choke, the kid coughs and gasps, inspiring Kevin to mutter, “Listen to you sputtering like a fucking fountain!” The apt metaphor makes me chuckle a bit. Then, suddenly, Kevin unleashes a veritable litany of boundary bashing provocations. “A pussy. A bitch. A twink! A faggot! A grunt!! You’re a jobber, that’s what you are!”  The term “fairy” pops up a few minutes later.  The terms pussy, faggot, and fairy are the ones that pretty much pull me out of the moment, but as I’ve said before, the strictly sub-dom genre, which can definitely include gay men totally into that type of verbal assault, isn’t my thing.

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Muscle Master Kevin flexes and purses.

I do, however, enjoy a fine looking man, and when the cool wave of discomfort washes away, I return my attention to appreciating the real star of the show, Muscle Master Kevin’s gorgeous muscles and beautiful face. Fuck, the stud has HUGE traps! Hot wrestling does exactly what this squash manages to do, and that is display stunning bodies beautifully as they work the magic of wrestling. As Kevin flatly proclaimed, he’s got simply perfect nips and veiny bis that are hard to take your eyes off of.  How a babyface beauty this pretty built his own empire as a dominating heel is a bit of a mystery to me. He likes to purse his lips and stare straight into the camera, which does nothing but remind me over and over that the man has a boyish handsomeness that’s simply remarkable. I’d so love to see him show up on some other Boston-based production’s doorstep as Clark Kent, a mild mannered, self-contained studpuppy who fights a good game but gets his beautiful ass handed to him repeatedly by dirty, no good heels.  Having chatted with Muscle Master Kevin, however, I put the chances of that happening at somewhere around 1,000 to 1.

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Muscle Master Kevin is destroying Hunter James, but he’s looking at you.

What Kevin does best, besides look dazzlingly beautiful, is convey with perfect clarity his full attention on his audience. It’s not like he needs to give Hunter too much attention. Stick a fork in him at about the 2 minute mark, because he’s already done way back then. But this squash, and let’s face it, the career of Muscle Master Kevin, is about what’s going on between him and you. He stares into the camera frequently, even as he lays down more humiliating banter expressly directed at Hunter, successfully welcoming you into the heart of this altercation. And here’s where I think Kevin dangerously straddles a fence that I actually suspect he may not even be aware of. Sub-dom fanatics, I’d bet money, are captured in Kevin’s gaze and hear his humiliating taunts and own them entirely. He may be crushing and gloating over Hunter James, but I’m sure there are MMK fans who feel it deeply as Kevin crushing and gloating over them. To those who want to be dominated, owned, and made a muscle stud’s “bitchboy” (as Kevin explains he’s doing to Hunter), Kevin’s fixed stare into the camera delivers exactly that. But then again, there are many of us into homoerotic wrestling that actually love the busting through the 4th wall as a nod to the voyeur-class among us. Kev’s sly grin at the camera makes me smile, as if the rock hard gladiator is dedicating his performance to nobody else but me. He’s expressly giving me what I want, which is not to be called a faggot fairy, but to watch a gorgeously muscled man crush and claim an outmatched opponent. Kevin turns his attention from the camera slowly, gazing at his peaked bicep, as if appealing to me to feast upon the pristine beauty of a muscle hunk having bested a once hopeful challenger.  Is he dedicating this masterful demonstration to me, his lustful home viewer, or is he promising the same treatment to the twink bitchboys watching at home? Clearly, this is art teetering on a stark contrast between these two possible interpretations.

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Kevin aims to please.

So fair warning: if you’re turned off by explicitly homophobic language (which is the only way I can describe the use of terms like “fairy” and “faggot” here), or misogynistic insults (“pussy,” “bitch”… which frankly I intellectually don’t care for, but somehow never seem to mind in fact) then Glove Fetish Beatdown is not your kink. There are some sweet pro wrestling moves, and an overwhelming squash can definitely work for many of us, however. Hell, if you’re just curious to see what Muscle Master Kevin’s physique looks like when applied to corporal punishment of a ridiculously outmatched opponent, this is a feast for your eyes. It doesn’t stroke the kink I harbor for the drama of erotic combat, because Hunter is almost instantly little more than a prop to demonstrate Kevin’s power and domination. I know for a fact that there’s plenty here for many neverland readers to enjoy, and some here that many neverland readers won’t care for. But I believe Muscle Master Kevin’s sincerity when he says that he strives to give his fans what they’re asking, begging, pleading for. So get your asses over to MDW and send Kevin your sincerest desire for what you want to see, and if it happens to be a bespectacled handsome face like his falling prey to dirty tricks and erotic domination at the hands of a brutish heel, let Kevin know that Bard sent you!

New Digs

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Welcome to neverland’s new address!  I recommend that regular readers bookmark this page for future reference, since I will no longer be updating the old site at blogger.  Happily, I’ve been able to transfer all the old posts as well as reader comments into this new format. For your convenience and to just clarify any issues of monetization and undue influence, there will continue to be no ads here at neverland other than the unsolicited publicity I offer through my discussions of homoerotic wrestling products that I enjoy. Check out the About page for reference to photo copyright owners who have generously given me permission to repost their images here.  You can also find an updated Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month Hall of Fame, and I’ve made some major administrative decisions regarding my running favorite homoerotic wrestler titles – namely, I’m collapsing the two categories of favorites (pornboys and non-pornboys), and once again forcing them all to battle it out in one big pool of sweat and tears for my lust and adoration. The Favorites page gives a more detailed explanation of how I came to this decision and where I drew the lines, but for those with a casual interest, suffice it to say that the inaugural unified title holder as my favorite homoerotic wrestler running is long-time infatuation of mine, wrestler-turned-bodybuilder-turned-wrestler Lon Dumont.

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BG East’s Lon Dumont is my favorite homoerotic wrestler unified title holder.

I hope to get this new incarnation of neverland back to some of my roots, including intentionally blurring the lines between homoerotic wrestling fantasy and pop culture, celebrating beautiful bodies that do (or should) populate the homoerotic wrestling scene, and naming the names of the men, matches and maneuvers that dial my wrestling kink sensibilities up to 11.

In that vein, here are some fantasy match-ups I’ve chosen for which hot Hollywood hunk currently making news should climb into the wrestling ring, and which current homoerotic wrestling hardbody should be there to greet him.

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Model-turned-actor-turned-superhero 6’1″ Henry Cavill
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Model-turned-softcore-pornboy-turned-homoerotic-wrestler 5’10” Zack Johnathan (Z-Man)

First up on my plate is cleft chinned fashion model Henry Cavill, who’s come a long, long way to be all-American (albeit, space alien) superhero Superman in this Spring’s blockbuster. This photo is of a leaner Henry from Immortals, sporting a physique that speaks to me even louder than his hairy chested behemoth muscleman incarnation in Superman. Talk about a star on the rise, Henry seems to be making tongues wag and mouths drool uncontrollably lately.  He’s starred in several pieces of homoerotic wrestling fiction I’ve penned, and I think the perfect homoerotic wrestling veteran to test the newly minted man of steel would be equally devastatingly handsome beauty, Z-Man. I picture the blinding beauty of both of these boys inspiring them to higher and higher heights of savagery and lust for domination. Lovely Henry would have a lot to learn, and I think two-thirds of this match would involve Z-Man demonstrating all of the cruel tools of the trade he’s suffered for so many years at the hands of his opponents. However, I think Henry would be a quick study, sucking the air out of Z-Man’s lungs with an unexpectedly aggressive crotch claw, scoring the decisive knockout victory, and then working over the slowly rousing Z-Man’s luscious pecs with his tongue.

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Rower-turned-jokester-turned-tv-hearthrob 6’4″ Joel McHale
vs
Muscle-teen-turned-bondage-dominator-turned-wrestler 5’10” Muscle Master Kevin

Joel McHale not only graduated from an institution that I did, he also grabbed a whole lot of attention when he disrobed for the first time on his network television show Community, instantly earning him a spot in the crowded field of funny men hunks I lust after.  While I don’t follow Community faithfully, it’s a sentimental favorite of mine for no other reason than Joel’s mouthwatering pecs. I think this giant funny man could have no better greeter when he enters a wrestling ring than ice-cold and entirely humorless Muscle Master Kevin, boss-in-chief and stunningly pectacular CEO of Muscle Domination Wrestling. No shit, the initial stare down would be between Master Muscle Kevin’s baby blues and Joel’s mouthwatering nipples (because you know Kevin wouldn’t deign to look up). The muscle master very well might bite off more than he can chew in ripped comedian Joel, who I think harbors the deep cynicism of a serious heel-rising. But I have to think even with the size disadvantage, Master Muscle Kevin would slowly beat the tallboy down to size, humiliate him, terrify him, and teach him crucial lessons Joel would need to learn to own the ring as the heel he harbors deep inside.

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Hero-turned-villain-turned-hero-hottie 5’10” Sendhil Ramamurthy
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Pornboy-brute-beefcake 6’0″ Marcus Ruhl

Discovering that Sendhil Ramamurthy was back on television and shirtless stoked some sizzling hot embers he first lit when I fell in lust with him on Heroes. He appeared in a couple of fictional wrestling matches I wrote, but the height of homoerotic wrestling fantasy would be to see him climb into the ring and discover beefy pornboy kombatant Marcus Ruhl staring down at him. There’s no way that the tidal wave plowing into him would leave sensational Sendhil anything other than flat on his back with knees in the air, but I think he’d make the pornboy work hard for it. One way or another, however, there’s a pony ride in Sendhil’s future appearances in my imagination (with Sendhil as the pony, of course).

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Roman-god-turned-naked-werewolf 6’5″ Joe Manganiello
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Twink-turned-terminator 5’9″ Chace LaChance

Finally, Joe Manganiello is never far from my homoerotic wrestling fantasies. He’s a recurring character in my fiction, and even more frequently appears to me in my fondest dreams. There may have never been a Hollywood actor more perfectly suited to be a homoerotic wrestling god than mountainous muscleman Joe. In fact, I struggle to imagine who could manage to initiate the mighty beast sufficiently. Having admired the beastly transformation of Chace LaChance from tweezed go-go-boy to brutishly massive muscleman, however, I’m picturing Chace to be the one to give rookie Joe a boot to the face as the Hollywood stunner tries to stride up to the ring apron for the first time. Chace has taken some severe beatings, and I have to imagine Joe would match him muscle for muscle, and then some. But my fantasies could picture no other outcome than big, beautiful Joe flat on his back with Chace’s muscle butt planted across his face as the Hollywood heartthrob taps frantically his final submission before Chace strips him naked (like we haven’t seen that before) and rides his glorious ass (okay, that would be new) as picture perfect Joe hangs onto the ropes and moans.

So leave me a housewarming present here at neverland 2.0 by sharing in the comments below your Hollywood-turns-homoerotic-wrestling fantasy match-up.  And welcome!

All Things New Again

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Smell that?  There’s something new in the air.  Take a whiff, and you can catch something on the wind. It smells like change to me.  Watch for a big announcement here at neverland in the next couple of days, because there’s something fresh blowing in, and it smells like that sort of change that’s mostly good. Very good.  In the mean time, let me just share my periodic celebration of newness in homoerotic wrestling: namely, the lovely, promising, world’s-their-oyster rookies who’ve hit the scene in recent months and reminded me what a breath of fresh air that a new face can sometime be…

New Beef: BG East’s Alain LeClair

New Serbian Stunner: BG East’s Arn Nedic

New Boyband Beauty: BG East’s Deni Dupuis

New Ring Pornboy: Can-Am’s Kevin Crowes

New Teen Phenom: Rock Hard Wrestling’s Kyle Carter

New Law: Naked Kombat’s Landon Conrad

New Ruhl: Naked Kombat’s Marcus Ruhl

New Boxer-Crossover: Thunder’s Arena’s Mr. Sean

New Hope: BG East’s Ronny Pearl

New Blue-Eyed Bully: BG East’s Vic Madone

Clint Morgan 2 [Guest Blogger: Alex]

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So in my first Clint Morgan post, I said I pulled out two matches. The second one was Clint Morgan vs. BBW from BG’s Champions.

Unlike the other match I pulled, this is a more standard three falls affair, set in a ring. Morgan stretches out, waiting for his opponent. He definitely looks good to me, but also “of the time.” BBW already has all the swagger and attitude that makes him an icon. He brings handcuffs and his valet (that he won in a prior match), both of which come into play. Morgan gets no respect from BBW, other than a nod to his size. Once again, there’s a lot of back-and-forth, with the men splitting the first two falls. Unlike the match against Rogers, where I can point to the set-up and ending as unique in my collection, I can’t really say why I like this so much. Maybe it’s nostalgia. This match was old when I got it, but it was still one of my first. Action-wise, it’s pretty comparable to stuff today, with the same sort of holds and banter. Would it be worth seeking out? Not sure, but watching it again recently gave me the same reaction as watching it many years ago.
Morgan doing his best Incredible Hulk impression
BBW let’s us know who’s in charge
Now this is how it’s done, kids
BBW doesn’t seem to respect the big stud
Maybe he should, though
Ah, somebody needs a hug!
One good rack…
…deserves another
BBW shows off, keeping the big stud up there like he weighs nothing
Wait, shouldn’t BBW be using the hold from Boston?
Wearing white doesn’t make you a good guy
Ah, gotta love that mullet

Clint Morgan 1 [Guest Blogger: Alex]

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I love it when something inspires me to re-discover old wrestling matches. With the constant barrage of new material, it’s easy for some older matches to be forgotten. Of course, whenever you go back, sometimes the match isn’t as good as you remember it, but other times, the magic returns immediately.

After responding to a post on the Ringside at Skull Island blog, Joe said he didn’t remember who Clint Morgan was. That got me thinking about the man and sent me to look back at some old videos. I dug out two matches, one of which was Clint Morgan vs. Dark Rogers from BGE’s Private Bouts. This was among the first matches I ever saw and really got me hooked. I don’t want to spoil what happens, but I can’t guarantee I can avoid it.

One of the things that appeals to me about Morgan is that he was a big, tough badass. Rogers is clearly the “heel” here, but Clint isn’t a gullible face nor is he a jobber. Of course, the production isn’t up to today’s digital, hi-def standards, but for me, it kind of adds to the charm. The match was a short one, only 12 minutes, but still really fun for me. There were quite a few matches set in this rec room environment, which I like as it feels like the kind of matches I’m used to. In fact, any two guys could play this match out in their basement.

There’s a great tension throughout the match, as Clint Morgan is sent to teach the diabolical Dark Rogers a lesson. The bad boy has been tearing up the competition and Morgan is just the badass good guy to set him straight. The match features a size contrast, with the lean and hairy Rogers being quite a bit smaller than his younger, smooth opponent. Both men are very tanned (unless that’s the camera and age of my video), trim and handsome. In fact, Rogers look doesn’t feel dated to me at all.

Despite the size difference, this is pretty back-and-forth until the end where there’s a definitive winner. The ending is surprisingly fun (to me) and still excites me every time.

Would this count as a catchweight?
Morgan starts the bad boy’s lesson
Lean guys are so fun to bend
Rogers knows how (or where?) to handle a bigger opponent.
The key is to keep the big man down
The wall takes its fair share of abuse in the match
Dark had a thing for stripping his opponents, but Clint planned ahead!
Riding the white cowboy
Don’t make me angry, you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry (but the viewers do!)

A Taste of Things to Cum

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Reading back over my recent posts (like a year or more), I think it’s safe to say I’ve been orally fixated lately.  My descriptions of wrestlers and matches as “delicious,” “tasty,” or “mouthwatering” have been my regular, go-to metaphors for my subjective experience of being turned on by choice homoerotic wrestling fare (see, there I go again).  Homoerotic wrestling just tastes so damn good!  Of course I don’t literally want to eat anyone (other than perhaps a couple of politicians I can think of… on toast), but I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity for a long, wet, lingering lick of a wrestling hunk’s body to stimulate the taste buds.  Do you know what I mean?
BG East’s Blueboy clearly knows what I’m talking about in Masked Mayhem 4, momentarily turning always dangerous masked muscle heel Enforcer into a quivering bowl of jelly in the corner of the ring with a tongue lashing of his tantalizing nipples.  Holy shit, this photo captures so much about homoerotic wrestling that defines me!

I think there’s a bit of a stroke of genius at work at NakedKombat for incentivizing face licking.  Not a lot of the kombatants I’ve seen take advantage of available points for slathering spit across the cheeks of a locked up opponent, but Gavin Waters was one hardbodied fuck machine who seemed to relish just that.  In his May 25, 2011 tag team match with partner Nikko Alexander, Gavin to advantage of his overwhelming muscle and weight advantage to lock down lean twink scrapper Matt Singer and drive him fucking nuts by dragging his tongue all over the babyface battler’s face.  Talk about a tasty little morsel!

Matt’s partner, however, was a little too much for Gavin to pull off the same maneuver… by himself, at least.  Long-time pornboy wrestling favorite of mine, Trent Diesel had Gavin’s number both in singles and tag-team competition, and the stunningly hot tattoed stunner was not as easily subdued.  However, another NakedKombat rule permits partners a few seconds of double-team advantage moments after a tag is made, during which Gavin would enjoy the chance to lick the sweat off of Trent’s brow while Nikko picked up the baton to take his place mounted on top of the muscled stud puppy.  Fuck, Trent hated his face licked!  He squirmed like craaaazy as Gavin lapped up his salty goodness.  Hell.  And yes.

Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight series has been seriously satisfying me since it debuted a couple of years ago.  The precise balance of pro ring wrestling and overt eroticism is awfully compelling.  Tongues have been regularly on the menu starting with Pro Sex Fight 1, when massive muscle star Michael Vineland slaps down a post-victory tongue lashing on the infinitely perky, hot pecs of g-g-g-gorgeous former HWOTM here at neverland, Landon Mycles.  Landon was more a kisser than a licker, which I totally respect, but fuck-fuck-fuck, Michael working over that highly responsive nip on the blond bombshell was sweet dessert after an intensely hot main course of highly erotic ring wrestling.

When another long-time favorite wrestling pornboy of mine, Rusty Stevens, got his shot at Michael in Pro Sex Fight 5, the competitive side of things was decidedly more pronounced.  However, post-match, Rusty delivered the move that I’ve been fantasizing about for years, absolutely worshipping Michael’s massive biceps with his tongue.  Rusty isn’t exactly what I’d call someone graceful in defeat… or victory… but a lustful moment of fully engaged muscle worship from the normally smart-assed, hardbodied hot head grabs me hard.

Rusty also slapped done a tongue lashing in Pro Sex Fight 4 against angelically beautiful muscle stud, Kevin Crowes.  If he hadn’t, I’d have written a letter in protest, because if there’s any word to describe Kevin, it’s “delicious.”  Rusty totally dominates the early moments of this match, stripping the rookie pornboy naked (in this case, not a moment too soon), terrorizing and torturing the bodybeautiful stunner in the ropes, on the mat, and when thrown into the corner, licks that chiseled chin slowly.

You can tell Kevin tastes delicious, because Rusty’s tongue travels slowly down the angelic pornboy’s neck and laps aggressively across the stunner’s sweaty chest, lingering long and hard on those aesthetically perfect nips.  As an aside, this also tweaks a little bit of kink I have for seeing a wrestler stripped and dominated while his opponent has managed to still hang onto his gear.  There’s just something about that inequity, that extra dose of humiliation and dominating ownership, that makes my engine rev harder.

Kevin is no shrinking violet here, though, and when the patient pornboy finally gets an opening, he makes Rusty pay back all that trash talking muscle domination with interest.  Swarming all over the stunned veteran, Kevin uses that work of art he calls a body to press Rusty to the canvas and hold him still for a taste of glory of his own.  I can feast for days on watching Rusty Stevens dominate in that soul-withering style he has of destroying an opponent psychologically as a prelude to crushing him physically.  However, watching heaven-sent pornboy Kevin work up a serious head of steam all over my long-time favorite emeritus is incredible entertainment for my dollar.

There is also another entire subgenre of muscle licking.  The forced worship submission (“Lick my bicep, bitch!”) has it’s own story, and I can read that story over and over again and never get tired of it.  Kid Vicious, looking even buffer and more beautiful than ever in Wet and Wild 4 (can I call KV beautiful and not get my ass kicked?), forces a battered Lobolito to pay homage to his gorgeous, bulging, veiny bicep.  Unlike in the stolen tastes of muscle I mentioned above, Lobolito looks like he’s been so bashed he doesn’t quite appreciate this plot twist nearly as much as I do.  Forced to lick, tongue-work in wrestling can communicate with crystal clarity that total domination by the object of oral adoration over the licker.  Forced to be licked, as described above, turns the tables and speaks perhaps even more directly to the orally fixated side of me.

I’m sure Freud would have plenty to say about all of this oral fascination.  Then again, Freud was a dumbshit when it came to sexuality and eroticism.  As another example of an element that clearly distinguishes the homoerotic from the straight-up wrestling worlds, a whole-hearted tongue lashing makes my mouth water.

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

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Before I get to the really important business at hand, anyone have experience with WordPress that would be relevant as I consider migrating neverland there?  Let me know.

Now to the real issue that needs settling right away.  Who will lift the mantle of reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month off of the massively muscled shoulders of Naked Kombatant Will Parks and claim the title for the hottest wrestling release in June?  The field is deep, so I’ll try to stick to the cream of the crop to give you the contenders who made it to my final round of consideration.  Starting with Will Park’s bailiwick, Naked Kombat has been hit-or-miss since I signed back on, but bearded muscle daddy Landon “the Law” Conrad debuting drenched in oil against Alex Adams has sorted me out several times.  Over at Thunder’s Arena, I’ve got a fast and furious crush on new meat Mr. Sean sporting his own five o’clock shadow and looking like an Abercrombie boy ripped from a politically incorrect billboard ad to face in very short order no fewer than 4 opponents over the playtime of Bodyspace 44 and Bodyspace 47.  In Muscle Domination Wrestling’s VIP lounge, there’s a double-team made in heaven, featuring Damien and Master Kevin together working their beautiful muscles in tandem all over the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet in Duo Cop ‘N’ Jerk (also check out their cruel, cruel teaser for upcoming Season 4 matches!).  BG East’s Catalog 99.1 packs the field of contenders, so  I have to be brutal in narrowing down the very top of the heap that vied for my lustful attention, starting with perennially dangerous favorite and current title holder for overall favorite homoerotic wrestler, Lon Dumont, pushing and getting pushed to the edge of consciousness against Paul Hudson in Knock Outs 2.  My fantasy come true match, Tag Team Torture 16, puts up potentially the most powerful tag team contenders (for my affections), Christian Taylor and Skip Vance, who have their hands and mouths full with the likes of villainous brute, Morgan Cruise.  In a bodybuilder bonanza possibly the likes of which have never been seen before in the ring, both Chace LaChance and Braden Charron are unbelievably muscle-beautiful gladiators in the Summer Sizzler’s Bonus Match.  From Mat Hunks 9, newcomer (but NOBODY’S rookie) Vic Madone has been haunting my dreams for his work brutalizing lovely Ray Naylor, 3-time HWOTM Eli Black and former HWOTM Cameron Matthews make it incredibly difficult to decide who to root for, and long-time favorite emeritus and former HWOTM Mitch Colby may never have looked sexier (on the mat, at least) than when paired with my longtime simmering crush, delectably sexy Rafe Sanchez (mmmmmm, Rafe!!!!).  So, clearly, no one is a loser when it comes to the quality homoerotic wrestling pumped out in June, least of all me (and you).  You can swing a sweaty jock strap without slapping in the face an incredibly sexy, totally legitimate contender for the title of homoerotic wrestler of the month.  There’s no wrong answer to this question, but after sweating it out and studying the evidence extensively, I’ve decided there is, however, a very, very correct answer as to who is the new homoerotic wrestler of the month…

Rafe makes me swoon just by stretching out!

Rafe Sanches (mmmmmmm, Rafe….) oozes sex.  It doesn’t matter who he’s wrestling or what the context, his presence exponentially increases the erotic in a match until I (and typically, he) explodes.  How has Rafe failed to sit on the HWOTM throne before?  There’s a considerable mystery to that question that I can’t quite explain, because I’m a big, big booster.  One likely factor is that as incredibly pleasing as his wrestling has been, his releases have come out at the same time as some barn burner chart toppers that have edged him out of the top spot.  A series of just plain bad luck for Rafe could be a legitimate explanation for how he has owned my lusts so entirely and yet remained title-less.

Rafe’s hands are full with powerful muscleman, Mitch Colby.

Then again, another potential thumb on the scales may also be that Rafe has frequently been eerily quiet, sometimes even silent when he wrestles.  For a wrestling fanatic like me that can live for days off of nothing but highly charged erotic banter of two wrestlers before they ever make physical contact, an ominously silent hunk, however kinetically erotic, is at a disadvantage.  His Mat Hunks 9 appearance, however, features Rafe in clear, perfectly pitched voice, taunting, snarling, and snapping at Mitch with a quickness and confidence that leaves me shaking my head that this luscious mat hunk has been so quiet in the past.

Big Mitch taunts Rafe relentlessly.

Okay, it also doesn’t hurt a wrestler’s homoerotic appeal to go toe to toe with the likes of my very first-to-be-crowned favorite homoerotic wrestler, Mitch Colby.  Mitch is sliced to hell, sporting the leanness that makes me gasp and earns him an extra snarl of contempt from longtime “rival,” heel extraordinaire (and also former HWOTM) Cage Thunder.  Cage has gone on the record giving Mitch the barest of grudging respect for his work when he’s beefed up, but against Rafe, he’s tanned, toned, and the leanest slice of beef imaginable.  An opponent could pale in comparison, of course.  But despite being several shades lighter in complexion, Rafe absolutely holds is own and somehow his exponential sexiness quotient multiples many times over when juxtaposed against (and especially writhing in the grasp of) gorgeous Mitch (that’s a lot of math to say, fuck, Rafe and Mitch are an insanely hot pairing!).

Rafe gets swallowed up between Mitch’s ripped thighs.

Cage Thunder has long rhetorically slammed Mitch for his long record of beating up on smaller guys, so fully expect he may chime in again to point to this newest evidence.  Mitch’s physique dwarfs Rafe.  Mitch is just a couple of inches taller, but packing on about 25 pounds more muscle than his lean, smooth challenger.  Again, a less apt opponent could get completely overshadowed by Mitch’s display of power and dominance.  Not so, Rafe.

“Same fucking move every time!!!”

Rafe gets pissed off in this match.  Have we ever seen Rafe pissed off?  I can’t remember seeing it, and the sight is so fucking hot that I have to think I’d have remembered.  Mitch swallows him up, going again and again to squeezing the air and will out of Rafe with various parts of his body trapped between Mitch’s massive thighs.  Rafe gets fucking fed up with Mitch taking the path of least resistance, turning again and again to scissors to sit back and expend minimal effort in squeezing out one submission after another.  “Same fucking move every time!” Rafe snaps furiously, rubbing his head and checking to make sure his skull is in tact.  Now, I don’t fault Mitch for wracking up a boatload of submissions with the same hold.  Fuck, I’d clean his pool for a month for the chance to feel those tree trunks wrapped around me over and over again.  But the magic that he works on Rafe is inspired, as typically quiet Rafe gets angrier, chattier, and more determined than ever to grab hold of some sweet revenge.

Rafe dishes out a taste of what Mitch has been serving.

Perhaps it’s the hint of Cage Thunder in this match that pushes Rafe way over the edge for my lustful tastes as well.  Mitch taunts him when he’s scored 3 unanswered submissions.  Rafe sits back and studies the beautiful beast in front of him for a moment before responding, “Yeah, rub it in Bitch… um, I mean Mitch!”  Holy shit, did Rafe Sanchez just signal that he’s learned a thing or two from Cage Thunder!?  It’s Cage who has relentlessly refused to call Mitch anything but Bitch Colby for years.  Suddenly, despite being down 3 falls, Rafe seems instantly more dangerous, more compelling, and… holy shit is it possible…. sexier!

Mitch’s cocky cock-pin.

Rafe and/or Cage Thunder fans will already know that these two have very notoriously met in wrestling action before.  They collided in the BG East ring, and the overt, explicit erotic intent of both studs burned my retinas just a tad.  As one might expect, Cage Thunder owned lovely Rafe in the end, or, more accurately, owned his crotch as he sat on Rafe’s unmasked face and insisted that the graceful, smooth stud pound out a submission-emission.  I’m guessing after that match, there were words exchanged, perhaps a little advice shared from the veteran to the ever-ready lean sex machine.  Somewhere, Rafe picked up Cage’s disparaging nomenclature for Mitch.  And somehow, when Rafe slaps down the taunt right smack in the middle of his mat match against Mitch, it feels to me like almost a 2-on-1 opens up, putting my longtime infatuation with Mitch at a distinctly unfair double-team advantage.

“Payback’s a bitch, pussy!”

Rafe gets some revenge in the match that I savor with a pause-and-slow-motion treatment.  Mitch has taunted and humiliated him repeatedly, flexing his top-tier fuckable muscles in Rafe’s face relentlessly.  So when Rafe turns the tables, plants his own fine, fine, fine ass on Mitch’s face and pumps his own lean, powerful biceps, I’m absolutely sold.  “You think you can handle this!?” Rafe taunts him disbelieving.  Powerful Mitch flat on his back with his lips planted between Rafe’s cheeks is an epic sight to see. “You crazy or something!?” Rafe taunts, in an even more epic moment to hear. “Payback’s a bitch, pussy!!!”

Mitch grinds Rafe’s face hard and deep.

Damn, damn, damn!!!!  It takes a whole lot to hold my gaze with Mitch Colby on the screen, but the second half of this match, I’m absolutely entranced with Rafe.  Fuck me if I wouldn’t actually give up the chance to get repeatedly crushed between Mitch’s thighs for the chance to aggressively tongue bathe ever inch of Rafe’s baby smooth body.  His revenge is fleeting, popping up once or twice more before the end, but that angry frustration, that contemptuous disdain for the mighty muscle man climbing back on top is sweet as honey (speaking of which, let me add a lathering of honey to that aggressive tongue batch fantasy of mine).  Rafe hurts, a lot.  He agonizes, crushed and twisted and pried apart in the big muscleman’s accomplished hands.  And never, not once, does he let his slow boiling rage wane for an instant, no matter how overwhelmed and outmuscled he becomes.  He’s snarling and snapping stubbornly, forcing Mitch to absolutely lay waste to him, drain his tank of every last ounce of willpower and strength, leave him so obliterated that Rafe can’t pick his head up off the mat, much less continue to fight on, before Mitch can finally declare he’s bought Rafe’s body for keeps.

Rafe oozes sexiness!!!!

It’s not like I’ve ever failed to be wildly turned on by Rafe Sanchez (mmmmmm, Rafe….).  But his personality shines through in Mat Hunks 9.  His lust for dominating a muscleman is unmistakable. His nerve, grit, and defiance of the numbers are incredibly compelling.  And more than ever before, he tells a story… a seriously sexy, incredibly homoerotic wrestling tale that makes me (like Mitch) sweat profusely and launches all sorts of personal fantasies starring me, showing up moments after Mitch exists the sun room, leaving a wasted, demoralized, stunningly beautiful Rafe behind for me to find.  Good work, Mitch.  Absolutely stunning work, Rafe.  Set that beautiful, lean ass down on the thrown as my newest homoerotic wrestler of the month!

June 2013 Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month: Rafe Sanchez

The News that Counts

wrestlebard2 Comments

I feel like I should have something to say about the Supreme Court rulings on marriage, but I just don’t.  Every time I start to try to compose something thoughtful about the federal recognition of same-sex marriages, I get stuck on the Supreme Court’s simultaneous roll-back on voter’s rights protections and the tightening of restrictions against promoting diversity in higher education.  Hell, just when it comes to the citizenship of gays, I’m hard pressed to get up a head of steam about a marriage license when we have no federal protection against simply being fired from a job or refused housing or lodging just because we’re gay.  So marriage.  Yeah.  That’s cool, but…  Then again, my political comments are always guaranteed to raise a rant, which I have little energy for today, so I should stick with what I know and love best.  On that note, let me just do a quick round up of things I should have posted about in the last couple of weeks, but I’ve been just too damned slammed with work to make it happen.

First, Alex recently guest posted (thanks again, Alex… you rock!) about the theme of the bad assed, low down, dirty rotten cheat of a jobber (or, the heel/jobber).  I loved his analysis, and was provoked by his suggestion of how this variation on the jobber motif might stir the pot in homoerotic wrestling.  Readers had a couple of examples of wrestlers who might be considered to make this angle their own.  One reader who was mentioned in the post, Darius, also was inspired to send a private comment to me along with some juicy, non-photoshopped evidence of precisely what he looks like ready to wrestle in black gear.

The gear to accompany a bad ass attitude!

Mmmmmm….  Da-a-a-a-ammn.  I’m on board to watch Darius fill whatever role he wants in the wrestling ring.  And I can think of no more ideal heel/jobber move than for Darius to not only show up in bulge-sucking black gear, but also to have said gear used to choke a babyface hero viciously as we finally get a look at every massive muscle that this beautiful man packs into his trunks.

No need to imagine Darius dressed to wrestle down and dirty in black gear… 

Darius is a truly outstanding friend of neverland, and I continue to hope to see much, much more of him in the ring. Promoters and private aficionados of high quality muscleman wrestling need to hit this hunk of stunning beef up… hard.

Then again, even in black, Darius is such a babyface beauty!

My next writing project to publish is a special match dedicated to two of my favorite friends of neverland, one of whom is none other than stunning Darius.  As soon as I get my boss off my back, I’m polishing that puppy off and getting it posted.

You think the body is hot?  Check out what goes on in that homoerotic wrestling kinked head of Ben Monaco!

In other news from the homoerotic wrestling friends of neverland, Ben Monaco has been updating his blog, Monaco Off the Mats, answering the question of which of the BG East battlers would he be “all over” given the opportunity to wrestle them.  He’s doing a fantasy top 10 countdown that’s become seriously distracting from my aforementioned perfect storm at work.  We have numbers 10 through 8 so far, and Ben’s description of what about these gorgeous studs speaks to him most makes for incredibly hot reading.  This is exactly why I think the world needs more homoerotic wrestlers blogging.  Ben Monaco on the mats is guaranteed to make me explode (particularly when lips are involved), but Monaco Off the Mats takes us into that interior monologue, sorting through the tastes and kinks, lusts and longings that we might never catch wind of watching the bruising Canadian smothering some lucky bastard with his pecs.  I love the titillating glimpse inside Ben’s head, having spent hours enjoying lingering looks at his delightfully hot body soaked in sweat.

The Cheshire Cat of Homoerotic Wrestling

And one last item in friend-of-neverland news, Drake Fucking Marcos has been updating his new blog, Drake Marcos: The Cheshire Cat of Homoerotic Wrestling as well, demonstrating one of the most delightful side-effects I’ve enjoyed from chatting with on-screen wrestlers over the past 4 years: learning that these guys are complex and passionate about all sorts of things on and off the wrestling mats.  Personally, I’m hoping we get to read more of the internal smack down between Drake and his mild-mannered alter ego, D2.  When they start arguing with one another in print, there’s something incredibly sexy (in a twisted, probably diagnosable way) about it all that gives me a strong hit of Brad Pitt and Edward Norton pounding the living shit out of each other (well, Brad pounding the living shit out of Edward) in Fight Club.  Which suddenly makes me think what an insanely hot idea for a homoerotic wrestling fiction piece: Brad and Edward facing off again to settle just a bit of all that confusing, fucking hot, dissociative, violence-inspired self-love/hate sexual tension.  Yes, that’s what I’m picturing when I read Drake interrupting and slapping down D2.

Drake Marcos wrestles with himself.

I can’t promise more frequent posts for the near future, sadly, but I’ll do my best.  In the mean time, I’m thrilled that the homoerotic wrestling blogosphere is increasingly populated by more tasty treats for us all to enjoy.

One final news-ish note, I got an alert from Blogger (corporately owned and barely run by google) that they will be “cracking down” on blogs that “monetize adult content.”  Since I don’t get paid penny one from this blog, I’m assuming this does not refer to me.  I have been sorely tempted, but in the end declined several requests to post actual ads on the pages of this blog, even for the producers and companies that I talk about incessantly in my posts.  Are homoerotic wrestling sellers “adult websites?”  Is my rave, uncompensated review of a product an ad?  Are our google overlords so ridiculously underworked that they are seriously going to spend time trying to whitewash their empire as other than fueled by guys getting off on online content?  If someone else has a better platform to suggest, let me know.  I’ve been wanting to buy back my soul from google for a while now, and perhaps this “threat” about adult content is just the thing I need to jump ship.

Freshly Inked

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I think it’s been a while since I mused over my infatuation with tattooed wrestlers.  It’s true that my own ink likely biases me toward my appreciation of illustrated hunks, but then again, my appreciation of illustrated hunks definitely influenced my own body art choices.  Not everyone looks good inked.  Definitely not all ink looks good, as far as I’m concerned.  But there are many tattooed wrestlers who instantly own my allegiance when the step onto the mat or into the ring, in large part because they’ve got incredibly sexy ink that I crave to see wrapped up all over their suffering opponent.
Here’s some of my choice pics from the recent crops of new release homoerotic wrestling products, featuring ink that grabs my attention and makes me pull for one hardbodied hottie over the other based in large part on the artistry they embody even before they sculpt their bodies into that most provocative aesthetic form: homoerotic wrestling.
Illustrated Eli: BG East’s Mat Hunks 9
Okay, I love me some Cameron Matthews.  His attitude, his wit, his relatively recently redefined incredibly conditioned physique, that ASS(!!!)… it’s hard not to find myself wanting to identify with the babyface brawler turned muscle daddy for a heel bid.  But fuck!  Eli Black works his magic in my shorts once again in Mat Hunks 9, solidly holding my gaze and making me acknowledge he’s my boy in this match, and I have to think it’s his ever growing collection of tattoos. 
Kevin Crowes’ crows: Can-Am’s Pro Sex Fight 4
A relatively recent release in what I think is Can-Am’s best genre contribution to homoerotic wrestling pits epically long-time favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy of mine, Rusty Stevens, against almost painfully beautiful pretty boy, Kevin Crowes in Pro Sex Fight 4.  I have a documented record years-long that proves that there’s almost nobody to compete with Rusty Stevens in delighting, entrancing and infatuating me, starting well before he lays a finger on an opponent.  And Rusty’s got some sweet ink, albeit he could use some touch ups, if you ask me.  But Kevin Crowes’ combination of imminently fuckable classically proportioned beauty along with his bold, massive, gorgeous ink does what perhaps only one man before has been able to do: hold my attention and settle my ass securely and convincingly in the opposite corner from Rusty Stevens.
Paul Hudson’s tatted bicep makes Lon Dumont just a little less pretty.

Lon Dumont’s skin is smooth, clear and entirely absent of foreign pigment.  It’s not the art tatted onto Lon’s body that has propelled him into the top echelons of my favorite homoerotic wrestlers, but the incredible beauty of his competition physique paired with a smart, vicious persona and high quality pro wrestling execution.  What could make me root against my reigning favorite!?  I think it’s two things, really.  One, there’s something deeply stirring watching a whittled to an anatomy chart physique star go slack over and over in a knock outs match, and (more to the point of this post), his opponent Paul Hudson surprises me by smacking me firmly into the Hudson camp with his bulging trunks and upper arm ink.  Lon’s face slack and smashed into the black band inked across Paul’s right bicep is simply gorgeous.

Illustrated MJ rides Attila’s ass

The 3rd match in Mat Hunks 9 catches me by surprise by how compelled I am by it.  Attila Dynasty (and in particular, his ass) has long been an infatuation of mine.  But MJ Vergara is visually astonishing the moment he walks into the BG East mat room and shoves Attila stumbling ahead of him.  The mohawked muscle man is amazingly built, veins popping, muscles bulging, 25 inch waist (my guess, I haven’t measure him myself… but I’d be very happy to).  His bold, beautiful tattoo stretched across the whole of his left pec and massive deltoid and trapezius muscles is simply beautiful! Attila is such a smart ass, such a cocky, swaggering, proven-dangerous son of a bitch, of course, and there are plenty of matches in which that character is exactly the one I can’t wait to watch work up a head of sadistic steam all over his crushed opponent’s body.  Not this time, however.  Fuck, I’m all on board with compact muscle stud MJ going ape shit all over Attila’s fine, fine ass, and I’m thinking that he’s got me sucked in to identifying with his plans for bully revenge thanks in large part to that gorgeous ink that absolutely swallows up Attila whole.

Beauty and power you just have to touch.

Chace LaChance and Braden Charron in BG East’s Summer Sizzler’s bonus are both in the best shape I’ve ever seen either of them, and sporting more ink than I think we’ve ever seen on either phenomenal muscle men.  All of that inked muscle wrapped around each other, squeezing, stretching, and flexing is breathtaking.  Who to root for when both stunning physique stars are in the best condition and most extensive ink ever?  It’s a toss up for me, but I’m not complaining.  There’s no way this can miss!

 Big Sexy’s big, sexy ink on display.

Less surprising is Thunder’s Arena’s Big Sexy owning my lustful allegiance in Battle Space 45.  If there’s a “total package” in homoerotic wrestling these days (by the way I estimate packages, at least), Big Sexy probably has the best claim.  He’s smart and funny, highly skilled on the mats, handsome as hell, beautifully built, one of the most fuckable asses on the planet, and all of that beautiful artwork!  Both an artist and a work of art, I’m entirely a Big Sexy fanatic when he steps onto the mats with the entirely tattooless muscles of a muscle star, Muscles.

Oiled ink on ridiculously hot Landon Conrad.
Naked Kombat’s newest release makes me gasp.  Even if Landon Conrad didn’t have a few, modest tats  on that insanely hot muscle bod, he’d definitely be my man in his match against amazingly hot, yet somehow unavoidably diminished in comparison, Alex Law.  However, ridiculously handsome muscle hunk Landon does, indeed, have tats that drive home the point that this porn gladiator is suddenly my #1 Naked Kombat kombatant in any match for the foreseeable future.
Specimen illustrates total domination.

Thunder’s Arena has long been the place for the battles of the big men, and Battle Space 46 is a prime example.  Looking for everything like Superman’s alternate universe arch enemy Bizzaro, bad boy and mighty meat head Vinny was never going to be my man after the tiff he dusted up around his “gay taunt” earlier in his Thunder’s career.  But then again, with beautiful, branded beef like Specimen is serving up, it wasn’t like Vinny had a chance anyway.  Beat his ass, make him cry, and give him an up-close examination of every tat, Specimen!

My final tat shout out is for another a BG East newcomer, bad ass Vic Madone.  Vic is a perfect example of the difference between still frame homoerotic wrestling images and homoerotic wrestling in action.  In still frame, this gorgeous stud is GORGEOUS!  I mean, crystal blue eyes to swim in.  A face  that should be hocking ultra-expensive men’s cologne. A lickable body that appears to be the perfect intersection of form and function.  Even with all of those very, very nice tats, I could picture still-frame Vic easily donning a tuxedo and walking a red carpet (and then climbing into a wrestling ring for a rip-n-strip extravaganza).  But when I watched his debut match on Mat Hunks 9, there was nothing “pretty” about Vic.  He mumbles non-stop, and I’d pay money for a translator, because I’m sure that incessant trash talk is sexy as shit.  But Vic is an object of my lust like Michael Imperioli is in the Sopranos.  He’s rough, mean as hell, machismo oozing out of his pours, and absolutely BRUTAL!  Personally, I’m likely to root for anyone going up against Ray Naylor simply because I’m dying to see someone seriously ride that epic ass of his.  But Vic is honestly phenomenal in this match, slowly warming me up from an initial tingling in my crotch to a full-on raging fever over the course of the first 5 minutes.  I pity anyone who faces this hot, inked hunk, but I fully expect that if anyone does, you can count on me standing right behind Vic in anticipation of him doing serious damage.

So ink seems to be adding up to my allegiance lately.  Of course, just because I’m rooting for one wrestler to win doesn’t mean I don’t thoroughly enjoy being surprised, having my boy bested, watching the power I’m invested and identified with tamed and conquered.  But tattooed muscles wrapping up and locking down an outmatched opponent is a particular brand of hot for me.