True Beef

True Blood. If you watch it and read this blog, that’s pretty much all I have to say to instantly arouse you, isn’t it? After four and a half seasons of beefier and more beautiful, frequently naked, stunningly gorgeous men, and I’m like Pavlov’s dog. Just the initials TB make me salivate.

Joe Manganiello is sculpture!

Season 5 is working me harder than ever, with the undisputed leader of the pack of muscle hunks being big, and I mean BIG Joe Manganiello. The last couple of episodes have finally featured him shirtless and hinting at the thought of him dropping trou. Even in shadows and half-clothed, the sight of this man makes me swoon like an antebellum Southern Belle.

Joe just has to reach for hit pants and I break out into a sweat!

Big, BIG Joe’s superhuman physique has inspired two appearances in my homoerotic wrestling fiction. He crushed two opponents at once in a 3-way barnburner to start, coming out on top of werewolf also-rans Taylor Lautner and Russell Tovey, and walking away with the undisputed title of Top Dog as well as tasty morsel Russell slung over his gargantuan shoulder. He went down in a shower of shame as tag team partners with fellow TB alum, Mehcad Brooks, unable to handle the offense of Gerard Butler and Henry Cavill (with outside assistance from Sean Maguire). Joe inspires about a dozen different homoerotic wrestling fantasies in me every day, so count on seeing him again, and again, and again…

Alexander has Joe under his control. Now there’s a fantasy!

I’m going to discuss the current season now, so if you’re going to go into a tizzy because I might spoil it for you, stop reading. Enough said. You’re big boys, so let me just say that seeing Alexander Skarsgård’s character “glamour” big, hunky, shirtless Joe in this week’s episode set off all sorts of explosions in my mind (and pants). Alexander has appeared in a couple of homoerotic wrestling matches in Producer’s Ring as well, but unlike Joe, Alex has climbed his way to the top both times. If I had to guess, I’d say that these two will show up in the ring together before too long, either in opposite corners or as another tag team. I don’t know which, yet.

Ryan Kwanten looks ready to rumble.
I know I’m not alone in picturing Ryan Kwanten as a homoerotic wrestling god either. Just check Sunday’s interview with homoerotic wrestler of the month, Cage Thunder, in which he names Ryan as the one piece of meat he’d put at the front of the line to get the full Cage Thunder ring welcome!
Even Ryan can’t keep his hands off his hot, naked ass!

I’ve pictured Ryan’s sweet ass in private matches three times in my homoerotic wrestling fiction. The first time, he couldn’t control his cock when faced with the mouthwatering muscle of Jamie Bamber (and really, who could blame him?). His second match saw him fare little better, getting jacked off into a damp pool of loser-hood by the powerful thighs of Shemar Moore. But although it may take him a little while, Ryan learns his lesson and takes down a big boy when he faces Justin Bruening.

Christopher Meloni is a beast in my homoerotic wrestling imagination!
But if there’s been a sexy hunk of beef who’s haunted my homoerotic wrestling fiction more than any other, it has to be season 5 TB newbie, Christopher Meloni. Sweet god almighty, they simply had to have sewn him into the blue polo shirt he wore in this past episode. His bulging shoulders and back look like their about to split the fabric every time he moves. In TB, he’s a sadistic, power-hungry, psychologically domineering and physically dominating force of nature. In other words, he’s exactly like I picture him in the ring!
I’ve got plans for those luscious pecs!
And here’s another spoiler. His abrupt exit from the show made me throw stuff at my television. Getting staked by an ugly, skinny super villain transported me back to watching pro wrestling as a kid. I used to get so turned on by the physically dominant, gorgeous muscle boys in the ring, and then find myself provoked nearly to tears to watch the clearly physically inferior heel lie, cheat, and steal his way to crushing my muscleman hero. Classic. And as bitter as I feel about seeing big Christopher shrivel up into a pile of ashes, there’s something beautiful and nostalgic about being taken back to that place right at the root of my homoerotic wrestling kink.  Happily, Christopher lives on in my homoerotic wrestling fiction, due to make a record setting 5th appearance in the Producer’s Ring, flexing those guns and bringing the pretty boys to their knees. Damn, TB works me so hard!

Truly Sexier and Sexier!

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousands times: winner of “best casting on television” for all time is True Blood. Hands down. The show has fed my homoerotic wrestling fantasies since season 1. My celebrity homoerotic wrestling fiction has featured True Blood sex machine Ryan Kwanten being dominated and milked dry by the likes of Jamie Bamber and Shemare Moore, before pulling his act together and besting giant powerhouse Jason Bruening.

Ryan Kwanten in post-coital existential crisis in last night’s True Blood.

Vampire Bill, aka Stephen Moyer turned out to be quite the nasty heel in his underhanded tag team victory alongside Sam Trammel, risking an English backlash in London taking down one of my long-time personal favorites, Russell Tovey and soon to be Hobbit-dwarf, Aiden Turner.

Stephen Moyer checks out Alexander Skarsgård’s pecs (and who blames him?!)

I hold the belief that, in the aggregate, the sexiest men on the planet are the Swedes, and at the head of the pack is True Blood vampire sex stud, Alexander Skarsgård. This explains why Alexander crushed Ashton Kutcher into the mat, shutting the sexy funny man up for good in the Producer’s Ring (at least in front of the camera). Soon afterward, he settled a score for national pride, showing Chris Hemsworth precisely what he thought about the idea of an Aussie being cast as the Norse god, Thor.  I’m not sure who I could imagine besting the 6’4″ blond bombshell on the rise, but if there was one person in my homoerotic wrestling imagination who might pull it off, it very well could be True Blood’s newest resident hunk, Christopher Meloni.

Low rise is never low enough when it comes to the long, lean, gorgeous body of this Swede!

I simply cannot get enough of Christopher Meloni! He came roaring into my homoerotic wrestling imagination making erotic sculpture out of Milo Ventimiglia and Adrian Pasdar, with a little help from his tag team partner Sendhil Ramamurthy. The scene-stealer that he is, Christopher was quickly cast in a singles competition against fantasyman Teddy Sears, showing that Christopher is born to heel.  Still another match was scheduled that was supposed to see Chase Crawford bring badboy Christopher down a rung, but with charisma like Meloni’s, Crawford was destined to be broken (literally). With Christopher’s ego swelling dangerously, the production team in my homoerotic wrestling universe had to take matters into their own hands, and it was finally gorgeous fitness model Ben Godfre who brought the vicious heel to heel, followed by each member of Eli Brody’s executive team taking their shots and pent up frustrations out on the humbled hunk.

Christopher Meloni brings his Chippendales routine to TB.

Not one of these True Blood hunks has faded from my fantasies, and with Christopher packed so tightly into a muscle-bulging designer suit in the past couple of episodes this season, I was aching to the core to see him unleash the beast. Last night he finally gave a hint of what drives me insane, peeling slowly, teasingly out of his suit coat and tie and making me drool to watch him unbutton his dress shirt and slide it slowly, so slowly off.

Bulging shoulders, powerful pecs, a fantasy body sending imaginations exploding!

Fuck, this man is hot! He clearly worked out just right to get into True Blood shape.  He’s bulging in all the right places, lean and sculpted in the rest. He’s biceps and shoulders are huge, rock hard, and pulsing with vascularity.  Damn, I can guarantee we’re seeing now-company man Christiopher Meloni back in bulging trunks and climbing into the ring again in a homoerotic wrestling fantasy borrowing heavily from the brilliant casting of True Blood!

Christopher Meloni’s days in my homoerotic wrestling fiction are most definitely not over!

True Skin

Is there anything to be said that hasn’t already been said eloquently?
Squarehippies calls it the best premiere ever. Superhero raves, “Epic and hilarious and damn sexy!” Dlisted says that the season opener of True Blood was produced by his wet dreams.

I say Alan Ball is a genius. Nearly every sweet hunk regular on the show displayed significant amounts of skin. It’s like a hunting ought to be: no wasted flesh. To start with, I need to linger on my favorite scene of the night, and one of my favorite images of all time. 6’4″ Swedish adonis, Alexander Skarsgård, beautifully bare-assed.
The camera was making love to Alexander throughout this episode, which seems appropriate for the 6 hour fuck fest that his character was supposed to have been engaged in. The close ups, the naked rearview, the low-slung leisure wear later on… this man is incredible. The promise of even more explicit scenes to come this season is making me a little numb. He’s also amazing in this character (and not just for the skin). Alexander is skillfully playing both inhumanly cold and calculating with subtle twinges of vulnerability. Alexander has shown up three times in my wrestling fiction, twice in action, but never bare-assed. That must be remedied, and this is just the inspiration to make that happen.
Next, let’s move on to Stephen Moyer and Sam Trammell, co-starring in the homoerotic fantasy of Sam’s character. Pec to pec, this pair is indeed the stuff of fantasies. As Stephen’s character promises that a tandem shower will be a real good time, both Sam and I swoon just a little, entirely convinced. Like Alexander, Stephen and Sam have made an appearance in my wrestling fiction fantasies, appropriately enough in a tag team match taking on werewolf and vampire buddies on Being Human, Russell Tovey and Aidan Turner. There was no tandem shower scene in that fantasy, so True Blood yet again drives my imagination to new heights.
Finally, let’s linger a while on the ridiculously gorgeous bubble butt of Bon Temps favorite muscle slut, played by Ryan Kwanten. In the season premiere, Ryan is unable to get it up for two naked women working him over simultaneously. There’s a whole story line that makes this sensical, but I think a much better story line would be to see Moyer and Trammell show up after their steamy shower and satisfy blueballed Jason like only two big, hard hunks can. And just to round out my homoerotic wrestling fantasy fascination with the golden cast of True Blood, Ryan appears in three of my fictional wrestling matches, starting with losing all self-control as Jamie Bamber bearhugged Ryan into a frot frenzy.
Hell, True Blood is employing the talent so well, the real thing is starting to catch up with my homoerotic imagination! I predict that I will be up to the challenge, though, with more full contact, full frontal wrestling action to come for every single one of the True Blood regulars. And did I mention that Alan Ball is a genius?

True Anticipation

Work is a buzz saw for the next few days, so I’m going to try to pace myself on my posts. Small bites. Less phenomenology. More sane time for me. With that in mind, I want to concisely marvel in anticipation at a new promo shot for the third season of True Blood, which will premiere in a couple of months.

I’m still bitter about the completely unnecessary execution of Mehcad Brook’s character at the end of season 2. The promise of new hotties to come is sweet, though. Sweeter still is Alexander Skarsgård looking hotter than ever.
Thank God for Swedes. Thank God for a little less bleach in Alexander’s hair, also. And while we’re at it, thank God for his gorgeous, giant, muscled body, and in particular those rippled, mile-wide shoulders. As if True Blood requires any more fantasizing, I have been unable to resist writing in several of its stars into my celebrity wrestling fiction. Alexander, of course, has made two appearances, showcasing himself as even stronger and more merciless and sadistic than Eric Northman. Stephen Moyer and Sam Trammell tag teamed for a sweet match that garnered little attention from the fans, but it’s one that I actually enjoy quite a lot. Ryan Kwanten required some personal tutelage in the demanding world of homoerotic wrestling in the Producer’s Ring. What can I say? Alan Ball keeps picking the beef that I’ve got a hankering for. Can…. not… wait… until June 13.
Enough for now.

Thinly Veiled

Squarehippies, “the site for shirtless male celebrities,” has the ironic new posting featuring screencaps of Jamie Bamber shirted. Like Squarehippies, I completely agree that paying Jamie to appear in a movie in which he remains entirely clothed throughout is like hiring a prostitute to watch TV with. What’s the point?

Still, despite the un-evocative caps of Jamie from Pulse 2 (what the…?), I do admit that I’ve seen some mighty arousing pics of Jamie with clothes – albeit, in skin tight, soaking wet shirts. It’s hard to disguise that stunning Brit body in a painted on T. I’d prefer to see some of his bare-chested deliciousness, but hell, it’s not like this is bad:

Which makes me think… when is it not all bad to see my worship-worthy objects of lust fully clothed? Sometimes, I think, an occasional shirted shot is nearly as drool-worthy as all skin… nearly…

Ryan Kwanten has spent the first two seasons of True Blood primarily naked, and secondarily clothed only from the waist down. On those rare occasions then he’s donned a shirt, it’s hugging that 0% body-fat-bod like a layer of sweat. His chest straining the fabric, his biceps bulging, popping out of the short sleeves… okay, so this is certainly a tasty treat. It’s not like I wouldn’t stumble all over myself if I saw Ryan in a skin-tight T walking down the street.
Speaking of stumbling all over myself, one of my newsboy crushes is making me feel all flustered in this pic of him in an urbancouture t-shirt. Rob Marciano can’t look ugly. He’s simply not capable of it. But this white t-shirt accentuated that massive, gorgeous chest leaves so very little to the imagination. His nips showing through are mindblowing. Any wonder why Rob features prominently in my first newsboy wrestling fiction series?
Hugh is looking more and more beastly as he ages, which is simply sexy as hell. His vascularity is jaw-dropping. This shirted pic of him hardly competes with his Bondi Beach shirtless romps in the waves, but look at the way his pecs stretch out that fabric. A little nipplage is icing on the cake, and those rock hard shoulders squeezed into that polo are… what, the ice cream? Whatever the metaphor, I want to eat him… I mean, I want to eat it.

And along the lines of edible, I’ve never seen a boy in long sleeves as sssssexy as this pic of Chris Evans. Hell, he even has two shirts on, and still his rocking body is on stunning display. The pecs, the shoulders, the biceps…. Sweet God, I definitely want to see this man with a shirt on…. so that I can slowly rip it off of him. Come to think of it, all of these shirted studpuppies show up in my gay wrestling fiction. With bodies that can’t look bad, naked, clothed, or any variation thereof, my imagination kicks into overdrive at the sight of these hunks.

Eulogy for Eggs

I feel the need to reflect on the season 2 finale of
True Blood, so if you didn’t see it and prefer not to know more about it, you should skip this post.

There was just too much male hotness in that cast. I’m not surprised that they needed to off someone, because frankly, that show has a massive cast and very complicated, multiple plots. One of the recurring hunks was bound to die (it is a vampire story, after all), and I’m sure the writers needed to make room for new characters to be introduced next season.

Moreover, I think they’re having a tough time managing the mind-boggling gorgeousness of their hunky cast. Seriously, there’s been hot male nakedness in at least three out of every four episodes from the start, but the season finale last night gave us little more than Mehcad Brooks and Sam Trammel shirtless.
We saw no more of Ryan Kwanten than the skin-tight sleeveless-t and painted on jeans that he always wears. Alexander Skarsgård was woefully underused. Seeing him thrown to the floor and mounted (plus, plus!), was neutralized by the fact that he was fully clothed and the mounter was a woman (minus, minus…). Stephen Moyer, the weakest link in my opinion, was overdressed throughout the episode. We got a glimpse of Nelsan Ellis, but I’m totally turned off by the “tragic gay” character they’ve written for him so far.
So someone had to die. With Moyer’s weak acting and news that Trammell’s got a new gig, I was so sad to see that it was Mehcad voted of the island. And essentially the ONLY scene in which Mehcad and Ryan Kwanten co-starred was the three seconds it took for Kwanten to off him!? I have a whole different scene in mind starring the two of them, including speedos, lots of sweat, and someone getting tied up in the ropes of a wrestling ring.
It looks like we won’t get to see any more of Eggs in Bon Temps (though, thank God, we got to see everything but full-frontal before he was killed off). My eulogy for him is simple: My sincere prayer is that he’s reincarnated into another HBO series with lot’s of nudity and ass grabbing set in another humid and sweaty climate. The End.