Aryx Quinn – neverland

“God, you’re fucking beautiful!”

November 25, 2022 wrestlebard3 Comments

There’s a rule in homoerotic wrestling. You have to pay for looking too pretty. Of course, I think there are a handful of exceptions. Like, Kid Karisma is, honestly, too pretty, and he never has to pay. But Kip Sorell is NO Kid Karisma, and holy shit, does he pay for looking so ridiculously, almost impossibly pretty! In the new release from Jonny Firestorm, fuck, does Aryx Quinn make Kip pay hard!

Kip comes to, with his wrists tied behind him, lashing him to the corner post. “Wakey, wakey, little one,” Aryx Quinn says, grabbing Kip by the hair and prying his shocked face upward. The look of terror on Kip’s face, eyes wide in panic, is seriously juicy! I’m perplexed about the backstory of this match, but Aryx alludes to Kip’s consent later in the match: “You are so stupid for agreeing to the terms of a match like this!” Fuck, how to begin to describe what it means when Aryx says, “a match like this…”

Okay, so I’ve got to start by saying this is a squash. If you have even passing familiarity with Aryx’ wrestling work and with Kip’s wrestling work, this will not surprise you. I’d say this match is about terror, more than anything, really. Aryx tortures and taunts in that way that nobody else comes close (well, I can think of one wrestler who I thought matched Aryx in trash talk). And the trash talk is super high stakes. “This is going to be the last place you’ll ever see,” he promises the sputtering muscle boy. Aryx shoves a straw in Kip’s face and asks, “Do you know what this is for? It’s for eating. Because every meal you eat after today, you’re going to be eating through a fucking straw, if you don’t do what I say!” Aryx keeps fucking with Kip’s panic-ometer, dialing it up until he’s screaming and whimpering and begging like a baby, and then letting him believe, for just a few seconds, it all might be over (spoiler alert: it isn’t).

But there’s another really, really delightful flavor to this match that is sorely missing in far too much homoerotic wrestling: Aryx is fucking INTO Kip’s body! “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he says at one point, and honestly, I stand up and cheer, because if you step into the ring with Kip Sorell, and you have an ounce of appreciation for male beauty, how could you NOT marvel at him? “You are fucking built solid,” Aryx marvels, as he digs his claws into Kip’s lats and pecs and rips his muscles apart to Kip’s symphony of screams. “You’re pretty,” Aryx says bluntly, and it’s one of the most pristinely authentic moments I’ve seen in homoerotic wrestling. “I like pretty boys,” he says, a half a second before he stomps the living shit out of Kip’s rock hard abs and pitifully helpless balls. “Look at the veins in that chest,” Aryx marvels, clawing the fuck out of Kip’s pecs. “Fuck,” Aryx says, “someone’s been doing some training!” And honestly, I’m talking to the screen like a crazy person, saying that it’s about TIME somebody acknowledged the dazzlying, dizzying, insane hotness of Kip, and the outrageous level of fitness he maintains like some android from the future, where you can see the roadmap of his veins feeding his sculpted, bulging muscles in real time. How could an opponent NOT comment on Kip’s vascularity!? Fuck, Aryx is a truth-teller.

So I’ve caveat emptored that this is a total, start-to-finish squash. Despite that fact, the action takes them all over the ring, as Aryx finds 1,001 ways to threaten to snap, smother, and strangle Kip over the edge of terror, again and again. Highlights for me include the patent-pending Aryx-rack, with the muscled heel bent forward and twist-tying Kip’s spine around his torso. There’s a super, super severe Boston crab that displays both beautiful muscle men to perfection. “I bet I can fold you in half like a deck of cards,” Aryx says, and fuck it all if he doesn’t do exactly that! Holy shit, I think Kip wasn’t quite believing him, until he’s absolutely screaming his submission in terror.

Okay, the final star of this match for me is Aryx’ sweat. Fuck, if you wonder who’s carrying the load in a squash, sit back and watch the sweat literally streaming off of Aryx’ body from about 1/3 of the way into the match to the end. There’s a camel clutch, where the camera angle happens to catch the spectacularly sexy hold silhouetted in front of some harsh studio lights. I’m sure it was an unintentional moment of getting the stagecraft of the lighting inadvertently washing out the foreground. But there’s this magic moment when you can see sweat literally streaming off of Aryx’ face and pouring down on Kip’s twisted body beneath him. Fuck… I know of some serious Aryx Quinn fans who would love to volunteer to squeegee that mat in the aftermath (and save some souvenir bottles of perspiration for themselves).

Kip’s journey from this match to getting tapped by Jonny to be his heel protege in the Bundle 2 feature I reviewed a couple of days ago had to have been an insanely wild ride! I buy Kip begging, pleading, weeping in humiliation, promising Aryx that he absolutely does NOT want to be a pro wrestler. And, damn it all, if I don’t find Kip oddly compelling as a baby heel, emerging from his cocoon, with his new vampire eyes soaking in the sight of Christian Taylor’s gorgeous suffering and wanting a taste for himself. Aryx’ takedown of Kip is in Bundle 1 of Jonny’s Black Friday sale, and the gorgeous 2-on-1 of Jonny walking Kip through the wonders of heeling on Christian appear in Bundle 2. Super, super sexy matches all around!

Lights Out

August 8, 2020August 8, 2020 wrestlebard1 Comment

Hurricane Isaias put my lights out like Kayden Keller knocking Chase Addams’ block off in Learning the Ropes the Hard Way.

Kayden clothesline.gif

Seriously, though, I’ve been cleaning the ruined food out of my freezer and sweltering sans air conditioning for way too long. 2020 has had us all over a barrel, but a global pandemic, worldwide protests over anti-Blackness, murder hornets, and the dumpster fire of the executive branch of government weren’t enough. The curse of 2020 thought I was getting a little too cocky with surviving the national economic collapse and actually getting shit done in my work-from-home office. So Isaias slapped me down hard, like Braden Charron dropping Jake Jenkins like a boss.

Braden clothesline

Even now, my internet connection is thready, so let me just reiterate how I’m feeling as I wait for the cable company to get around to my neighborhood.

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Wasted Wednesday

June 24, 2020June 20, 2020 wrestlebard7 Comments

Another Wasted Wednesday has me catching my second wind to get through the week by soaking in the sight of cocky, confident muscle men taken out. This time, I’m contrasting side-by-side images of said hunks, first at the beginning of a match, with fire in their eyes and the wind at their backs, and then about 20 – 30 minutes later after they’ve been laid waste. It’s a big part of what turns me on about wrestling. The psychological drama of getting face-to-face with your vulnerability at high speed is honestly at least as titillating as the sight of gorgeous bodies barely in tight briefs or less. It’s also why I love re-watching matches, to turn back time and watch the strut and bluster, witness the absolute certainty in their superiority. Would they take it back if they knew they’d be flat out, completely defenseless, and totally humiliated in mere minutes? But they don’t know, so they slap their dicks down and reveal a soft underside that only pride, a rocking bod, and a supersized ego can leave you with.

Here are a few choice wrestling hunks who showed up pumped and beautiful and convinced of their invincibility, who ended up crushed just right.

One of my hardest wrestling crushes thoroughly documented in the pages of this blog is Lon Dumont. I was instantly smitten at first sight when this stunningly beautiful competition bodybuilder didn’t just look the part in his debut match in Fantasymen 22, he absolutely owned the ring and his opponent. Now, I never tire of watching Lon (full-stop, but also let me continue) work his top shelf heel magic, particularly when he rocks muscle heads significantly bigger than he is. But I’ve got to admit that seeing him bested and brutalized at the end of Last Man Standing makes me swoon, all the more for the rarity it is.

I have a very different relationship with Damien Rush. He possesses one of the most outrageously over-sized egos in homoerotic wrestling, if not anywhere outside of Washington, DC. The daddy’s little rich boy backstory makes me love, love, love to hate him, and the bigger and beefier he gets, the more extravagantly puffed he becomes, and the more desperate I am to see him humbled hard. Since his early “swimmer’s build,” he’s been getting a lot of mileage out of his gorgeously thick muscles and comic book proportions. When he stomps into the ring, flexing, and his simpering, contemptuous baritone starts chugging away with silver spoon-fed self-praise and blue blood destiny for greatness, my orgasm is just a tad fiercer for it when I see him plowed under and laid waste, as in Hunkbash 17 when smooth muscle giant Vasily Volkov bashes the snot right out of him.

I haven’t quite decided what my fan-relationship is with hot bodied bro Kenny Starr yet. I mean, fuck, that body, of course. But honestly, I don’t know if my crotch aches more to see him ground into putty or doing the grinding. Ty Alexander makes a strong case for the former in Jobberpaloozer 17. Kenny’s glorious, wedgied ass exposed, nearly drowning in a pool of his own sweat, and unable to muster enough energy to lift his head off the mat is certainly a sensational use of that smoking hot body of his.

Seeing Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) take a turn on the losing end of the stick is another rare treat that leaves me just a little frustrated, honestly. Don’t get me wrong, watching a notorious badass heel undone is that much more pleasurable when said badass is a musclebound physique star with a multi-award winning bulge. The hit Mr. Joshua’s ego takes in a match like his Ring Hunks 1 battle with Aryx Quinn gets me way, way hot and bothered. But fuck it all to hell, seeing him wasted, out cold, and humiliated, and never seeing an opponent unleashing Mr. J’s not-so-secret weapon when he can’t lift a finger to defend himself makes me blow blood vessels. Come ON, Aryx! WTF?!

I’ve been starting to dabble in Thunder’s Arena again, for a change of pace, and there are just so many mouthwatering muscles to sink my teeth into! For example, Battlespace 112 grabs me hard, initially because I can’t decide if it’s silky smooth, mocha skinned surf bro Jack Beaver or mop-headed, smoldering alabaster boy Kid Thing who’s hotter. Perhaps paradoxically (or not), it’s seeing Kid Thing worked to a nub and literally out cold still standing that tips the scales his way for me. Fu-uck, we need a Kid tournament some day [makes note to self for future fantasy match].

Rio Garza. Let me just say his name and step back and watch the ages old fault lines pop open in homoerotic wrestling fandom. I’ve long been on the record that I love to hate the Mexican muscle boy precisely because he never quite managed to go from go-go boy to wrestler. I mean, he wrestled. A lot, to say the least. But I never thought he brought a whole lot more than a dizzyingly sexy body to the table. I know for a fact that at least a couple of his opponents felt the same way as I do, which explains the ferocity behind the brutal beatdowns lovely Rio took in the ring. If you’re going to be a dazzlingly sexy muscle jobber, you deserve the credit for making wasted be so deeply satisfying for fans, as he does in Hunkbash 11.

I should probably quit, but I couldn’t help myself but track down one more stunning fantasyman who comes to mind when I think of pathos in defeat. Kid Brock wrestled in a total of just 4 BG East releases, and still I obsess about him these many years later. It was the angelic babyface somehow misplaced atop his gargantuan, fierce physique. It was a whiff of greatness, like this Kid could legitimately deserve his place in the extremely exclusive ranks of Kid greats at BGE. It was that porn-ready muscle ass and those sensationally thick thighs. But, in the end, it was all that wasted promise, plowed under, destroyed, humiliated, and him leaving an epic career of homoerotic wrestling greatness just lying their on the table, just like he was just left splayed out and destroyed by the likes of Structure in Ring Wars 9. Like seriously, I think this Kid could have owned us ALL if he’d stuck around!

Such a sensationally sweet, sexy, satisfying waste to see hot bodied hunks like these laid out!

Face the Music

October 25, 2016 wrestlebard2 Comments

Joshua Goodman up close and personal with Troy Baker’s bulges in Mat Hunks 4

Taking a brief break from the heavy diet of reviews I’ve been dishing out, today I’m lingering a bit on that supremely homoerotic wrestling hold, face-to-crotch headscissors.

Chip Slater has a love/hate relationship with his face in Patrick Donovan’s crotch in Undagear 5

I’m sure I’ve mused about this hold before, but I’m too lazy to look it up. So I’ll probably repeat myself when I say that my heart pumps harder in my chest when a straight forward pro wrestling story suddenly introduces face-to-crotch scissors. If you buy that all of pro wrestling can easily be read as an extended homoerotic innuendo, face-to-crotch sort of slaps down the implied erotic subtext and steps at least one toe over the line into straight up homoerotic text.

Mitch Colby is about to pop with Cole Cassidy trapped between his thighs in Ringwars 15

How wrestlers carry it off, of course, can significantly add to eroticism. I suppose it’s possible to snap your thighs around another man’s head with that up close look at your balls in his face and it be solely about punishment and wrestling victory. But I love watching a wrestler snap shut that bear trap and then enjoy it, openly, luxuriantly, expansively. When someone on the delivery side of this hold pumps his glutes and shoves his hips forward with a little enthusiasm, when he milks the moment with pulsing flexed muscles beating out a morse code of agony from the gasping grunts of his opponent, when he stares down his own hot body and smiles at the sight of his opponent owned and getting primed for sucking cock, when he closes his eyes and leans his head way, way back and that look of an impending orgasm washes across his face, there’s nothing coded about this. This is hot, homoerotic wrestling gold.

Rick the Prick looks like he’s struck gold with Joshua Goodman’s legendary bulge in his face in Ringwars 12

The catcher can certainly connect the dots as well. Regardless of who ends up on top after all is said and done, I love it when a captured hunk’s eyes roam hungrily up and down his captors body above him. He doesn’t need to, but if he stretches his hands up and strokes those crushing thighs, the rippling abs, stretching so far as to palm the bulging pecs of his tormentor, it conveys what I’m silently thinking deep inside at that moment. A smothered grappler doesn’t have to, but if he’s man enough to nuzzle the balls bearing down on his face, fuck, maybe even open wide and give the trickster’s treats a hearty lick, it just puts the exclamation point on what this hold conveys from the start: wrestling persistently implies homoerotic intimacy.

Charlie Evans makes the most of the rare standing face-to-crotch headscissors at the mercy of Steel Muscle God in Oil Hunks 8 (MDW)

When the camera angles and storytelling are just right, face-to-crotch headscissors shine a spotlight on one man’s bulging package, bringing his entire, tasty physique into the mix, making even that swelling muscle of passion a part of the corporal domination of another man. For me, it isn’t even so much about the oral sexual implications, as much as it signals that every magnificent inch of a wrestler’s hot body is engaged in dominating his opponent. Hell, when wrestling companies choose to transition from explicit wrestling to explicit sex, I typically push rewind. Because what’s getting me off is the homoeroticism of the wrestling, not the wrestling as foreplay for sex.

Rio Garza cannot handle Aryx Quinn in BG’s Bad Boys

I suppose it isn’t such a far distance between why I’m such a fan of face-to-crotch headscissors as I am a fanatic for my favorite pro wrestling hold, the over-the-knee backbreaker. Both draw my eye to one wrestler’s bulging package. Both center the frame on the outline of a bulging cock and the ballast of balls. Both seem ripe with the erotic potential marrying gay sensibilities and a pro wrestling kink. Both make my pulse pound in anticipation of what happens next to, or with, or on behalf of one wrestler’s swollen pipe.

So much erotic passion led up to this moment of Mitch Colby smothered by Brook Stetson’s sweaty pouch in Sunshine Shooters 4.

I sometimes find it ironic that this blog attracts so many visitors thanks to the still frames I include, because it’s the story in and around any one captured slice of time in a wrestling match that tantalizes and titillates me. It’s not any one frozen image that becomes the perfect muse to my erotic imagination, but the drama played out in motion, the slow contraction of muscles, the arching agony in a lower back, the quivering pouch, the writhing feet futilely kicking the mat. I’ve lately talked in terms of “the moneyshot,” meaning that moment in a match at which point I’m likely to climax, but that moment is about the 1,600 seconds before that led up to that moment, the deepening jeopardy of one man, the swelling confidence of another, the bodies growing wet with sweat over time, the veins swelling and pumping harder with blood from the effort and the adrenaline of competition. I get off plenty to face-to-crotch headscissors, but I’m never just getting off to face-to-crotch headscissors.

Kid Brock’s face swallowed whole between Blazes gargantuan thighs in Rainbow Restlers 2

If there is one valuable analog of face-to-crotch headscissors, I think its the comfort a wrestling company has with the homoerotic eye of their gay audience. In scanning for face-to-crotch headscissors images across several platforms for this post, I found them concentrated in just a couple producers’ catalogs. And I think they play a part in direct proportion to how explicitly companies market to those of us in the audience tuning in and ponying up because we are sexually turned on by wrestling. Of course, face-to-crotch headscissors aren’t the only way of crossing the line from homoerotic subtext to homoerotic text. Hell, they probably aren’t even the best way. But from a strictly correlational perspective, I think they show up in proportion to how much I (at least) perceive of a producer as appreciative of and comfortable with me, as a gay man, watching their wrestling products as a means of sexual gratification.

So much sexual gratification when Logan Vaughn milks Trey Dixon into whimpering obedience in Florida Fights 5

So probably a close second as my favorite wrestling hold is face-to-crotch headscissors, because when they’re done wrong, they can reveal a whole host of troubled self-hatred bubbling beneath a veneer of nohomo bravado, but when they’re done right, I feel respected as a gay wrestling fan, drawn into the intimacy of homoerotic combat, and turned on hard.

Kid Vicious puts his swelling cock where Niku Samir’s face is in Motel Madness UK 5

It’s Political

May 12, 2014 wrestlebardLeave a comment

My interest in professional football has primarily centered on a three-way ring wrestling fantasy in which Aaron Rodgers, Jordy Nelson, and Clay Matthews beat the living shit out of each other (obviously including extensive double-teaming by Aaron and Jordy), until they’ve all been stripped out of their trunks and the winner gets a blow job from one loser while he racks the other across his gargantuan shoulders (yep, you can pretty much guess who’s who). Actually following a season has been outside of my frame of reference for well over a decade, and actually paying attention to draft day has frankly never been on my radar. But it was hard not to notice Michael Sam getting drafted by the Rams and sucking face with his boyfriend in celebration. The kiss seemed a tad forced and uncomfortably choreographed to me. Nevertheless, it was hot. For me. Others were clearly offended. There were apparently the predictable junior high level “ewwwwws” from the un-self-reflected narcissists privileged to remain far too long in angst-ridden adolescent ignorance and knee jerk self-defensiveness around their own secret same-sex fantasies. There was the wildly hypocritical “shield my baby’s eyes” indignation from the same mothers who blissfully see no irony in wanting more guns in their children’s schools while earnestly believing that witnessing g-rated affection between consenting adults will scar their offspring permanently. And there’s the “homosexual agendaists” who whip themselves in sackcloth because of the “politicization” of sport, and sports television, and masculinity itself. Whatever it means for football or football fans or sports television, the kerfuffle highlights the simple truth that persists regardless of where you stand: the personal is political. Oh, and two men kissing is sexy.

Proving His Case

March 17, 2014 wrestlebard3 Comments

aryx4 — Aryx Quinn continues to perfect his fantasy physique. Exhibit A.

Aryx Quinn has been taking a beating in our Friday Fashion polls, and he’s none too happy about it. Actually, Aryx has stayed above it all, but he has noticed the attention, and he has wanted to point out that he’s been putting on mountains of succulent, hard earned, beautifully sculpted muscle since, for example, he wrestled Muscle Mask in Masked Mayhem 11. When judging the aesthetics of Aryx as a model for fantasy-inducing wrestling gear, he’d like to point out that he’s a whole new man, bringing a whole barrage of new firepower to please his fans and blow away the competition inside and outside the ring. I’ve put in a request for him to share photos of his phenomenal physique as he approaches his first bodybuilding competition, which may happen as soon as this summer, so stay tuned. My thanks to Aryx for sharing these bits of convincing evidence that are featured in today’s post that demonstrate that he’s done nothing but continue to improve on the intoxicating mixture of beauty, power, and attitude that has earned him such a fanatical fan following!

Friday Fashion

March 7, 2014 wrestlebard1 Comment

Out of 128 votes cast, Rio Garza pulled just over 45% of the ballots to slap down perennial poll powerhouse Aryx Quinn (37%) and luscious one-hit wonder Brian Bodine (18%). As a rule, I generally never count out Rio or Aryx when it comes to fan support, so this was a fascinating head-to-head, making me wonder whether Brian’s respectable 18% threw the balloting one direction or the other. We’ve seen Aryx crushing Rio, and we’ve seen Aryx crushing Brian. If there are homoerotic wrestling gods, I pray that they will throw the three of these hot hunk into the same arena with one pair of trunks to fight over between the three of them. Congratulations to Rio, who never fails to look stunningly gorgeous in absolutely anything!

fashionrio2 — Aryx cannot be happy to lose to mouthwatering babyface perennial jobber Rio!

Today’s Friday Fashion poll was another tip to me from eagle-eyed fashionista Dan. Trent Blayze wore, appropriately enough, blazingly hot indigo trunks with silver flames when he ran headlong into the steamroller we know as big Joe Robbins in Pec Bash 2. Fast forward to catalog 101, and we find Aryx Quinn, yet again, daring to don the same gear and begging for a fashion comparison in his Masked Mayhem massacre over Muscle Mask. Handsome hunks. Hot bodies. Beautiful bulges. Awesome attitudes. Both have scored homoerotic wrestler of the month trophies here at neverland, but when it comes to that particular pair of trunks, who wore it best?

fashiontrent — Trent Blayze is devastatingly handsome, an incredibly sexy wrestler, and tough enough to make anyone thing twice about questioning his “flaming” choice of trunks. But did he wear it best?

fashionaryx — Aryx is back in the mix this week to try to redeem himself from last week’s fashion loss. He owns everything and everyone he comes into contact with in the ring, including those trunks. But in a head to head with Trent, did Aryx wear it best?

The Next Morning

March 1, 2014 wrestlebard1 Comment

bedrussell — I cannot possibly pay more attention to Russell Tovey because I’ve been completely obsessed for years.

A friend re-posted this completely unnecessary BuzzFeed homage to convince us that we ought to be infatuated with Russell Tovey. That ship sailed years ago. He’s appeared in two homoerotic wrestling fantasy pieces of fiction of mine, and countless more in my imagination. He’s also looking buffer and buffer lately, as if he needed to increase his raw, dorky, intense sexiness. I’d donate a kidney to wake up in the morning and see that sexiness staring back at me. Which made me think, who else would I both want to wrestle, fuck, AND wake up in the morning next to?

Fortunately, the selfie craze provides a lot of material to try out. Here are few of my homoerotic wrestling fantasymen who have shared exactly what it would look like to roll over in the morning after a night of full throttle erotic wrestling and see what’s left in the dawn-kissed light of day.

bedeliad — Possibly my pick for the sexiest man on the planet who I have not seen wrestle, Eliad Cohen looks like he’d be ready for the rematch the morning after.

bedjohn — John Magnum made a HUGE impression on me by making a HUGE impression all over poor Philip Aubrey’s lean body in John’s one appearance on Naked Kombat. The boy can wrestle and fuck, and waking up next to that gorgeous ass would make all that punishment he dished out the night before totally worth it.

bedaryx — Friend of neverland and former homoerotic wrestler of the month Aryx Quinn is already sexy as hell, but with a dog sleeping on his shoulder as the morning light filters through the window, Aryx is a vision.

bedaustin — Regular readers know my theory about hot wrestlers and dogs, proven yet again by the view of former homoerotic wrestler of the month Austin Wolf rousing in bed next to you with the pup snuggled in between.

bedlandon — Naked Kombatant Landon Conrad is devastatingly handsome and built like a comic book superhero, but waking up with the dog under one arm and his bedroom eyes for nobody but you is icing on the cake after that night of fuck-stakes wrestling.

bedmarcus — Yet another homoerotic wrestler of the month and comic book superhero porn star fighter, Marcu Ruhl’s massively muscled sexiness is insanely alluring relaxed in bed and looking over at you as you slowly rouse in the morning.

bedloganljpg — Just picture waking up next to BG East rookie Logan Vaughn, still stripped naked like you left him after you conquered that hot ass the night before in the ring.

Friday Fashion

February 28, 2014 wrestlebardLeave a comment

In the wrestling ring, stunningly pretty Troy Baker very seldom tallied victories. In fact, in most cases that adonis body of his took a brutal thrashing that made him many him the #1 muscle jobber of many fans. But when it comes to fashion, and in particular, when it comes to those metallic gold, barely there posing trunks, Troy put unlucky Kieran Dunne on his back and shoved poor Kieran’s face in that shiny golden pouch. The carnage was absolute. By a vote of 93 to 30 (as of this posting), the beautiful blond beauty Baker boy pounded the living shit out of Kieran when it comes to which hunk fans think wore it best. When Troy makes his (never even rumored) hypothetical comeback, I think it should be an in the ring, against Kieran, battle for the briefs as both hot hunks wrestle naked to see which dazzling stud gets to wear this dazzling gear again.

Today’s Friday Fashion poll draws from the Can-Am crew. Specifically, Can-Am printed its name across the asses of their wrestlers on a few occasions, including their dotcom buttercup trunks worn in two of the Arena series DVDs. I believe first to wear them was a one-hit wonder I’d love to see hit up again (and again), gorgeously muscled Brian Bodine in Arena 1. Talk about a party foul, when dangerous hunk Aryx Quinn showed up to take on Brian as Rusty Stevens’ sloppy seconds, Aryx was wearing the same gear. Then, to irk Aryx I’m sure, Rio Garza slipped his underwear model body inside the same buttercup trunks with Can-Am’s name and logo stitched across his fine, fine ass in Arena 3. I’m unilaterally declaring that all three of these beautiful bodies could never go wrong in absolutely anything/nothing, but the difficult question you have to ask yourself is “who wore it best?”.