Producer’s Ring

I’m sitting on several exciting projects that should ripen nicely within the coming days and weeks. I’m working on my next homoerotic wrestling comic, and I’m really, really enjoying how it’s turning out, so far. Here are a couple of preview images for you, available only here on the blog, in various states of being incomplete. They’ll look different in their final drafts, but I know some of you will get a kick out of the works-in-progress versions. The final drafts, in full comic layout, will appear at part of Sidelineland Stories.

Astonishingly, I’m even more stoked for the impending publication of a new Focus Group match in the Producer’s Ring. I alluded to this last week, but this will be the combustible compound that results from mixing my prose with ArtReplicant’s astonishingly sexy 3D artwork. We’ll be publishing this new match, the first, ever, illustrated Producer’s Ring match, very soon, at the resurrected Producer’s Ring archives. Here are some teasers to give you a sneak peak of what’s to come.

And finally, I wish I had an intern for the tedious grunt work of translating the old archives over to their new homes. But, alas, without an intern, it’s just me doing the tedium. Most recently, I’ve uploaded to the Producer’s Ring a couple more Focus Group matches, along with the first TV League match I ever wrote. To be pedantic, this version of the TV League match pitting Jamie Bamber against Tahmoh Penikett is the “director’s cut” version that I re-wrote and published on the pages of this blog about a year and a half ago. It’s just written soooo much better, and the plot and details are just way, way more interesting than the original. If some diehard really wants a copy of the original version, like, if you’re doing a dissertation on the rhetorical development of my homoerotic wrestling celebrity fan fiction, and you simply have to have the untouched earliest historical document, let me know. Short of that, I’m just sticking with publishing this newer version, because it’s fucking sexier!

I don’t know how long this burst of creativity will keep going, but I’m riding the wave as far as it will take me. I hope you enjoy some of it!

Value Added: The Ryans

I’m still a little fixated on facial hair lately, so I’m just thinking through a couple more cases in point:

Tear your eyes away from Ryan Reynolds’ gorgeous pecs and ripped abs with every line of his torso pointing like an arrow to his crotch. I’ll give you a minute…


Okay, now consider the slightly(?) airbrushed face. There may be a little scruff there, but from this distance, we have an essentially clean shaven hunk. Gorgeous facial structure. Great, strong chin. The perpetual Ryan Reynolds smirk. Nothing at all wrong here.
Now let’s examine Mr. Reynolds with a full beard. I know, I know. Having him in shackles, bruised and bleeding, and on his knees totally biases this little comparison. This is directly out of a homoerotic bondage fantasy. Still, try to examine the face again. For the time it takes me to construct a jack-off fantasy, the beard is total value added.
While we’re on Ryans (double entendre intended), let’s consider my other favorite Ryan as of late. Ryan Gosling is extremely fond of the two-day scruff, but here’s a pic of him relatively smooth shaven and absolutely mouth watering with his bulging biceps and shoulders and fantastic pecs stretching the confines of his club boy sleeveless T. If I can manage to stop fantasizing about alternating pain and pleasure applied to those nipples, I say this hunk is worship-worthy as is.

Ryan with a full on beard, and I’m a little light-headed. Kissing a bearded face like this is a major plus in my experience, despite the scratchy/itchy whining I’ve heard from some of my friends. A little pain is nothing but more erotic (as if I need to tell that to this crowd!). Speaking of which, maneuvering this pouty hardbody into a camel clutch, with your fingers laced just underneath that bearded chin, and I swear I’d be cumming across his upper back hands-free. Definite, undeniable, stick a fork in it, value added.

Alpha Dogs


I’m still feeling crummy, but these pics of Ryan Gosling, via Just Jared, are cheering me up quite a bit.

I assume Ryan must be bulking up for a new role. I most heartily approve of his transformation into a muscle stud. He’s gorgeous and sexy as hell already, but fill out those pecs some and he’s broken out into a whole new category of hollywood hunk.
I think he has more talent in his little finger than most actors have any prayer of ever having. So if he has that much talent in just his little finger, just imagine how much more talent he must be amassing as he adds sweet muscle mass to those arms, pecs and shoulders! (I’m not sure if the anatomy and math all add up, but you know what I’m trying to say).
In any case, I’m officially in love with Ryan Gosling. From these photos, he clearly loves his dog. By the transitory properties of infatuation, I think that means that I must love Ryan Gosling’s dog. It does not mean, however, that I must love that pooch’s haircut. Clearly some straight boy thought that would be a good idea. Regardless, Ryan Gosling is an alpha dog and muscle hunk in the making that I’m eager to see much, much more of.

More Alpha Dogs

Have you read Joe’s recent post over at Kubla Kong entitled, “My Dear Old Dog?” It’s a fantastic, thoughtful, and eloquent reflection on what a canine companion has to teach us about ourselves and our humanity (and, frankly, theirs as well, I think). My mind keeps wandering back to Joe’s post as my own dog lays her head on my lap and drowses off.

I have to wonder about a man that doesn’t own a dog. It’s not a fatal character flaw to be unconnected to a canine, but it just makes me wonder. Are they just “in between” dogs, still grieving the death of a beloved companion before they open their heart again for a new relationship? Do they travel too much to be capable of proper care of a dog (…get a new job)? Or are they truly flawed, and not drawn to the shared life of the pack?
As I’ve mentioned, having a canine-better-half makes a man exponentially sexier than they otherwise would be. Take for example, Jon Hamm. I know that he makes men and women melt, but for me, I haven’t been entirely sure that he’s lustworthy. He’s been a possibility, but not a certainty for my affections. Then I find pics of him walking his dog, and I have no uncertainty left. He’s a hot, gorgeous man who will be adored.
John Krasinski is another handsome boy that I’ve been on the fence about. I’m immediately drawn to him. He’s one of Squarehippies’ husbands, so clearly his worship worthy. He’s long, lean, hot-yet-cuddly. He has great comedic timing, which I think translates directly to prowess in love-making (just a theory). But is he someone that I can’t help but lust over?
Seeing him playing with his fiesty pup, it convinces me that John is, without a doubt, “my type.”
I’ve been off the fence for quite a while about Ryan Gosling. He’s one of my favorite actors these days, and he’s got an incredible sexual energy about him at all times.
Put a dog at the end of Ryan’s leash, and he’s just hot as hell. Check out the banner pics for this fan site of Ryan’s, and you’ll understand why I say that I’d give my unborn child to trade places with his dog. His depth as an actor, I’m sure, is directly related to his capacity to be loved by his dog. I don’t know the science, but it’s what I know, nonetheless.
On the other hand, I didn’t really think that Bradley Cooper could get any sexier, but seeing him walking a dog does the trick. The fact that Bradley’s beefed up for his role in the new A-Team movie (jury is way out on that one!), doesn’t hurt, either.
Finally, I consider the complex case of Kellan Lutz. He’s quickly carved himself into a musclegod. He’s handsome and hot as hell. And yet… somehow, I’ve not been entirely moved to worship at the feet of his young hardbody. He’s everywhere these days, advertising underwear and showing up in more and more movies. Still, all the pieces haven’t fit for me to recognize him as someone I must lust after.
Then he goes jogging with his dog, and I’m infatuated. In fact, there are photos of Kellan with his dog everywehre. He must be okay.
In response to Joe’s musings on his old dog, I just want to conclude by saying that, as certainly as I know that a man’s comedic timing is directly related to his prowess as a lover, I’m absolutely and unshakably convinced that whatever heaven exists, dogs get to decide who gets in.