Larry Wilcox – Sidelineland

I’m so pleased with a couple of President’s Day presents I got this year. What, you don’t exchange presents on President’s Day? How sad for you. You should consider it next year. It’s fun.

The first present I received was a nice, hot piece of wrestling fiction giving us a glimpse of what Bode Miller’s future might look like if he ever accepts an invitation to meet with Vince McMahon. Bode won bronze just a couple of days ago at the Olympics. He also gave an interview with Matt Lauer that made me think that Bode’s still a little dickish. Matt had to spoon feed Bode some lines to get Bode to say something warm and fuzzy about his baby.

Bode still has a naughty fratboy air about him that I continue to think would serve him well in pro-wrestling. This new piece of fiction now posted at the Sidelineland wrestling fiction group paints a picture of Bode’s up-close introduction Chris Master’s granite pecs.

Then, totally coincidentally, another reader dropped still another fictional wrestling match in my inbox to share with the Sidelineland wrestling fiction group. Sweet! From an entirely different angle, this second original piece of hot creativity paints us the picture of what it would look like for the boys of the 80’s TV show CHiPs to finally prove who’s in charge. I seriously love me some of Jon’s blond farmboy look, and frankly I was ready to put money on him cracking Ponch like a hazelnut across his knee. But don’t count out the Latin heartthrob.

I was so inspired with the spirit of giving, I put my nose to the grindstone and finished off a fictional match I’ve been working on for a while. Ripped from the headlines, my twisted imagination wondered what might it look like for fitness model muscle god, James Dawson Martin to answer Mitch Colby’s MySpace ad looking for some musclehead to wrestle. Mitch, the reigning title holder of my favorite homoerotic wrestling pornboy, has his hands full with the massive muscles of ambitious young James. The production team gets sucked into the action in this BG East fantasy fight, as muscleboys learn, once again, the importance of reading the fine print before you sign your contract.

For anyone interested in reading and, hopefully, contributing some original wrestling fiction, you can find these hot and sweaty tales of hardbodies at the Sidelineland wrestling fiction group.

Seriously, this was my favorite President’s Day ever. By far. Hands down.

CHiPS turned me gay. Of course, I’m not referring to the actual men of the California Highway Patrol, but rather their late 70’s/early 80’s fictionalized portrayals on television.

Erik Estrada was the designated sexy, Latino heart throb of the show. A recurring storyline involved women throwing themselves at him. I remember being dutifully in lust for the headliner hunk, and particularly thrilled to see some shirtless pinups from when he was riding high on the publicity train. Still, he wasn’t my favorite man with countless horsepower between his legs.

Larry Wilcox actually floated my boat much more. Looking back, I’m a little astonished by that fact. Not that Larry wasn’t a hot side of beef, but his character was an aww-shucks farmboy type to Erik’s sizzling sex object. Today, I’d still pick Larry over Erik, but I’m sort of shocked to remember that was also my preference as an impressionable pre-teen.

Some of the background boys actually revved my engine even more than the co-stars. Tall drink of water Brodie Greer always made my heart skip a beat. Before I knew what I was even lusting over, I had picked him out as a quality meat.

When Bruce Penhall joined the cast late in the series, though, I was over the moon. With the prototypical bleach blond surferboy look, Bruce was hard and hot just as Ponch and Jon were looking a little bloated and soft. Trying to cash in on the typical “next generation” storyline, Bruce was a patrol trainee, and I wanted nothing more than to be in charge of his education. His tight, short, studly bod was my infatuation until the show was cancelled.

The gay lessons of CHIPS were many and wondered. I was taught the joys of lusting after a man in uniform (okay, there were other teachers, but none that wore leather riding gloves!). CHIPS taught me the eroticism of male bonding and boys with bikes. If perhaps it didn’t technically turn me gay, without a doubt it offered me multiple objects of lust to teach me more about what turned me on.