Face the Music

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

Squash Me Just Right

Despite my explicit preference for homoerotic wrestling fare with an element of competitive suspense about it, I’ve been finding myself watching, and enjoying, quite a number of one-sided matches lately. The “squash” is a particular subgenre that I can enjoy, but, like I’ve said, I tend to prefer to see more give and take, more narrative suspense. So it’s interesting to find myself sitting in front of a whole lot of lopsided squashes. Sampling more than my typical diet of them, I’ve been reflecting on what almost always does work for me in a squash, what can but doesn’t always work, and what almost never works for me in a squash.

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Morgan squashes Joey in Back Buster 5.

First, what almost always works for me is seeing a dominant pitcher deeply delighted by the feel of mastering his opponent. This is what I’m talking about when I prattle on about “owning,” when one wrestler doesn’t just beat the other, doesn’t just make him tap out or submit, but takes visceral pleasure in controlling an outmatched contender.  Obviously, the absence of this element can make a squash a bore for me. The squash where the dominant stud seems thoroughly dismissive, so out of his opponent’s league that he can barely be bothered to pay attention to the suffering he’s causing, tends to disappoint me. I’ll feast for days off of a viscious, dominant heel who obliterates an opponent in a landslide and convinces me, one way or another, that he could very well need to rub one out soon before or soon after the camera’s are turned off, because he’s just too damned turned on. Frankly, this doesn’t even need to be entirely about sexual tension. I’m less interested in whether the winner wants to fuck his opponent’s ass in victory than I am in whether the experience of conquering, controlling, and possessing an outmatched opponent in and of itself seems capable of giving the winner erotic pleasure.  Whether he cums all over the catcher’s face on camera, or just leaves me believing that he needs a little “alone time” in the locker room to pound one out on his own, I’m buying it, if he’s selling it.

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Kid Vicious owns opponents just right, every time.

A lot of examples come to mind. Most of Kid Vicious’ catalog falls neatly into this category. If KV doesn’t bust a load all over a lamb-to-the-slaughter opponent, I feel 99% certainty that he took care of it soon afterward.  He always looks to me like he’s mentally getting off on destroying an opponent (the prettier, the harder). Kid Karisma taps this consistently as well.  His recent Undagear 23 match with reigning homoerotic wrestler of the month Marco Carlow is a perfect example. Kid K looks like he’s eating this squash up with a spoon, and when he rips Marco’s gear off, poses overtop of his fallen prey, and beats a hasty retreat from the mat room, I’m convinced it’s not just a hasty retreat he’s about to beat.  Jake Jenkins muscle mauling of it-boy Kip Sorrell in Backyard Brawls 8 is another specific example. I think of JJ as one of the most G-rated wrestlers on the scene, but his laughter, his luxuriating in Kip’s total destruction beneath him leads me to write the off camera script that has JJ needing a moment to himself to celebrate beating the living fuck out of that ridiculously pretty pin-up boy.

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Kid Karisma glistens with delight as he crushes Marco’s every luscious muscle.

There are other elements of a squash that can, but don’t always, work for me. A predator who plays with his food, for example, can sometimes turn me on, other times no. I’ve written my appreciation for trash talking taunts in the wrestling ring for ages, but in a squash, withering derision can seem more like dickishness than homoerotic tension. Personally, I find taunts more erotically provocative when the battle is close, when there’s suspense as to whose brash boasts will be born out as true, and who will be humiliated in regrets for winding up his betters with checks he couldn’t cash. In a squash, taunting trash talk and verbal humiliation are tricky for me. Sometimes I’m stoked hotter. Somtimes not.  Cathweight squash scenarios also can go either way for me.  When the opponents are so clearly, ridiculously mismatched in size, a big-beats-little squash can sometimes work for me in a big way, but at other times leave me a little bored with what turns out to be the forgone conclusion.  Competitive catchweight matches or, even, little-beats-big squashes typically float my boat big time, all else considered, but it’s a touchy thing if it’s a big-beats-little squash from the start.

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Guido walks the line muscle bullying baby-babyface Kirk Donahue.

Guido Genatto’s matches teeter back and forth with me around some of these coin toss elements. He won’t relent in physical or emotional abuse until an opponent is a pool of sweat and tears, sometimes just this side of the line for turning me on, sometimes just the other. For the big beats little squash dilemma, big Joe Robbins similarly sometimes comes up heads, sometimes tails.

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Big Joe Robbins is a big-beats-little Catch Weight veteran.

Finally, it’s a little hard to put my finger on precisely the element that almost never works for me in a squash. I know it by how I feel, rather than by the specific content of the wrestling.  When I’m left genuinely feeling sorry for the loser, when I have this impulse to call the principal’s office and report an incident of homophobic bullying in the halls, then I’m totally not on board. When it’s so one sided and the dominant stud is heaping on misogynistic insults, questioning the battered boy’s masculinity, then it touches a nerve that makes it hard to stay in the mood for. There’s a particular stripe of sadism that’s more sociopathic than homoerotic, that delights in inflicting suffering but seems more likely to end in the winner pissing on the loser than cumming across him.  That schtick is not in  my wheelhouse (no judgment implied, though if it is in yours).

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Ethan beats Jayden in the first 3 minutes, then just taunts and tortures the pretty kid for 15 more.

My most recent experience with this is the third match in Undagear 23, in which Ethan Axel Andrews fucking brutalizes delicately gorgeous Jayden Mayne. I’m not just saying this because Jayden charmed the pants off me in his interview here late last year, selling the living fuck out of being an earnest, ambitious babyface on the rise (though that, he did). And fuck, Ethan’s turned my crank more times than I can count. But then there’s this crime scene that unfolds in Undagear 23.  Ethan mauls Mr. Hollywood in such a way that I’m sort of hoping for someone on the camera crew to break this shit up. I’ve seen Ethan sell me over and over on his erotic delight in owning an opponent, but here, he just strikes me as a bully. He’s just mean, not because he’s getting off on it, or he cares if you’re getting off on it, or he secretely intends on stripping Jayden’s fine, fine ass bare and taking the spoils of victory with a Trojan on. He just comes across as enjoying hurting defenseless creatures, just because  he can. Call PETA. There’s a sicko who enjoys torturing puppies!

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Ethan just keeps fucking the kid over.

Now, I’m 100% certain that there are plenty of homoerotic wrestling fans for whom Ethan’s mugging of Jayden is pure gold.  Jayden is genuinely outmatched and outclassed from start to finish, and there’s an undeniable beauty in his spoiled masculine innocence. I’m not suggesting that anyone else does or should feel about it the way I do. I’m just musing, in my own little corner of the internet, about this thing that can take me a little by surprise: a homoerotic wrestling match that simply, essentially, fails to push my buttons. Squashes are just like that for me.

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Yes.

Sometimes they turn me on hard.

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Not as much.

Sometimes they don’t.

Treasure Below the Waist

Summer ushers in many things I enjoy. Warm, sunny skies, outdoor events, fireflies, long awaited SCOTUS decisions. But the one thing I anticipate with the most eagerness each thaw is that tipping point when hunks drop trou and start showing off their legs. Too little attention is paid to thick, powerful, beautiful legs on men. Even in homoerotic wrestling photography, the convention of cropping wrestler images off at the waist or mid-thigh is such a waste! So here are a few luscious wrestlers showing off most of their best angles below the waist.

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Mike Columbo’s gargantuan quads about to crush Derek D’Amore in Fantasymen 21.
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A secret obsession of mine, Troy Milan showing off his stripper hunk bod before getting wasted by gorgeous Corey Young in BG East’s Fantasymen 18.
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Johnny Modesto’s monster quads and Brad Rochelle’s sculpted calves are just 2 outstanding reasons to enjoy Matmen 16.
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Mouthwatering legs for days when Chad Weston took on Troy Baker in Undagear 8.
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That is clearly Brian Baxter’s hot, sexy legs on the right, but who is the beefcake on the left?
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Two of the most beautiful bodies on a collision course when Rio Garza and Kid Karisma compared quads in Undagear 15.
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Although it’s true I left the Cheshire Cat stripped and stunned last fall, I am the first in line to adore his gorgeous, long legs. And trust me, those puppies are fucking powerful!
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Goldenboy Austin Cooper shows off his thickly muscled legs in this promo shot for his upcoming Muscle Rookies release at BG East.
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The Black Muscle God, Darius, is ready to crush bones between those massive thighs in his upcoming release in Muscle Rookies.

Spring is In the Air

Spring has arrived (then left, then came back again), bringing with it warm sunshine and hot studs wearing shorts. Honestly, it’s still too cold for shorts, but I’ll slap you silly if you tell that to the well-muscled men in my neighborhood who have been dying all winter to show off their marvelously meaty thighs. Now another 10 degrees warmer and I’m certain they’ll also go shirtless. In the meantime, I’m thanking the homoerotic wrestling gods for the fantasy-fueling glimpses of strong, thick, hunky legs.

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Spring means bare thighs!

In their honor, I lift him an extremely long-time obsession of mine, Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!). I’ve mentioned before that pretty much everything about Joshua is underrated due to the extremely attention-grabbing cantaloupes he smuggles in the pouch of his trunks. I’ve spilt gallons of virtual ink marveling at the package that has won the Best Bulge at BG East award 2 years running, but when I can manage to tear my eyes away from the hypnotically swaying ballast he’s packing, I’m captured by how gorgeous his legs are.

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Agonizingly pretty Rio.

Gorgeous is a word that has to appear a dozen or more times in a review of Mr. Joshua’s appearance in Hunkbash 15 because his opponent is possibly the most gorgeous creature on the planet, devastatingly lovely Rio Garza.  Typically I think of the adjective “pretty” to correlate highly with “breakable,” “vulnerable,” and “doomed” when it comes to homoerotic wrestling chatter, but Rio is both supremely pretty and possessing astonishing tenacity and endurance, because he’s had that award winning ass of his beat senseless so many times that no one could begrudge him if he were to never set foot in a wrestling ring again.

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Two great tastes that taste great together.

But Rio does, again and again, and once again he climbs into BG East’s ring with one of the most notorious narcissist heels in competition, Mr. Joshua. I’m enthralled with the contrasts as the two check each other out. Skin tone, proportion, features, weightiness… these two men are a bundle of contradictions appearing in the same ring together. I’m incredibly turned on by both, which makes it that much more astounding to me to recognize how different they are in personality and proficiency in the ring.

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Rio teases those of us aching for more of Mr. J’s gargantuan package.

And when Rio strikes early, spladling Mr. Joshua wide and showing off the prize that Joshua fans worship above all else (that mountainous package), I’m struck by the perspective of seeing Mr. J made so vulnerable by a notorious jobber like Rio. Joshua is perennially dangerous. Even when he loses, he dominates. Even when he’s humiliated, there’s a presence about him that holds the momentum like he holds my gaze. But when Rio rips apart his gargantuan thighs and rolls Mr. J up, asshole toward the ceiling and that legendary bulge bulging and quivering, the drama grabs  me hard.

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Mr. Joshua digs deep into a pile of quivering beauty.

Then, of course, Mr. J grabs Rio. Hard. Holy shit, in the long, long line of brutal beatings Rio has suffered, this is one of the sexiest. There’s no time to worry about whether Rio is going to sell it (a question I’ve raised in the past regarding his work), because Mr. J maintains such a commanding, persistent pace that Rio’s got nowhere to go but down, down, down.

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Rio is forced to flex, but Mr. Joshua pumps his quads just because he knows how fucking sexy they are.

And here’s where I circle back to the beginning of this post to say that in the bedazzling spectacle of gorgeousness, where my eyes just soak in helplessly one astonishingly sexy sight after another (Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s abs, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s anguished face, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s stunning ass, Joshua’s bulge, Rio’s obediently flexed bicep), I can’t help but let out a little gasp of appreciation for Mr. J’s cabled, thick, damn sexy quads. They aren’t in the leading role in this incredibly talented ensemble cast. Fuck, they wouldn’t even get nominated for a supporting role award. But they are essential and breathtaking nonetheless.

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So much to appreciate, including those awesomely tasty quads!

I once posted about my unrequited lust for precisely two wrestlers who tease and taunt the fans cruelly, dishing out insane quantities of sexiness but always falling just shy of showing off every gorgeous thing about them in a wrestling match: Rio Garza and Joshua Goodman. In Hunkbash 15, they continue their vicious ways, stripping down everything but everything and leaving me shedding a tear of unfulfilled anticipation for seeing either of them (just imagine the novel I’d have written here if they’d both done it!) getting stripped naked and brutalized, finally baring it all. But the bastards still have me wiggling on the hook, as I find still more to drive me crazy with lust.  Well played, you horrible, horrible (insanely sexy) hunks.

Friday Fashion

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Rio Garza wore it best.

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!

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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?

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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?
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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?

Friday Fashion

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Troy Baker wore it best.

 

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.

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It’s hard to argue with that.

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?”.

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Brian Bodine had terrible, terrible luck drawing both Rusty Stevens and Aryx Quinn in Arena 2, but there’s nothing about luck when it comes to how supremely fine he looked in, then out, of that gear. But did he wear it best?
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The legions of Aryx-fans know that he’s the total package: rockin’ bod, nasty attitude, and full throttle wrestling. But in the more nuanced battle of fashion, the question remains. Did he wear it best?
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Rio Garza tends to make fans foam at the mouth. The competitive physique star and fitness model has proven to one audience after another he’s golden, if when he gets that beautiful ass beaten time and time again. He always, always looks so good, but did he wear it best?

Tuesday Trunk Pulls

In a “fresh tugs” edition of Tuesday Trunk Pulls, there’s a big crop of trunk pulls in the new release section at BG East. I mean, a lot! If you need a little extra leverage, if you need a little handle to get everything in just the right position, always feel free to grab hold of the tiniest tether: your opponent’s trunks. And if there’s a camera nearby, treat the rest of us to a little pre-Christmas unwrapping party!

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In Tag Team Torture 17, the 3-way barnburner between Jonny Firestorm, Mike Pitt, and Cameron Matthews gets vicious fast. Never one to shy away from jerking on his opponent’s trunks (and showing off some beefy ass), here Jonny drags Mike’s hips off the mat by his straining trunks.
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An equal opportunity brutalizer, Jonny shows the same disrespect to Cameron Matthews, with the added bonus of showing us why Cameron is always a contender for the best butt award.
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In a “reap-what-you-sow” morality tale, Jonny discovers that payback is both a bitch and a vicious wedgie when Cameron drags his fine ass across the ring by a double-fistful of Jonny’s purple trunks.
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Ethan Andrews does not need any additional advantage to completely squash, obliterate, and trounce lovely, lithe Lauden Sevior. But that doesn’t stop him from taking sick satisfaction in yanking on the go-go boy’s jock strap and long, flowing locks to add humiliation to total physical domination in Passion & Punishment.
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Jonah Richards grabs everything he can to subdue fellow Raunchy Rookie Ken Okeda.
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In Hunkbash 15 Joshua Goodman (that’s Mr. Joshua to you!) spends about 40% of the bout with his fingers yanking on Rio Garza’s trunks. Understandably.
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Raunchy rookies know not to let a little fabric or “rule” get in the way, such as when Kayden “Hungry like the Wolf” Kayden pries Ty’s hips out of the corner with a severe yank on the trunks, in order to set him up for more gut punching brutality.