Size Matters

My favorite part of writing this blog for 7 and a half years has been getting to interview some of the sensationally sexy stars of homoerotic wrestling. I’ve had to conduct most of those interviews remotely, so it’s a particularly rare treat when geography and timing line up for me to sit down for a face to face with a wrestler willing to let me toss a barrage of questions his way. Just such a fantastic alignment of circumstances recently occurred, and I sat down with an audio recorder and super lightweight rising pro wrestler Charlie Evans. I’m not sure if the transcript captures just how much fun I had. Charlie had me in stitches, and like Charlie says, what you see is what you get with him. So when he says, “jeepers” or “son-of-a-beeswax,” there isn’t an ounce of irony in his voice. And that makes this “scrawny” ginger phenom massively charming, adorably engaging, and a three-dimensional pro wrestling character in a category all his own.


5’8″, 130 lbs (soaking wet), Charlie Evans

Bard: Charlie, thanks for agreeing to meet with me and chat on the record. I know a lot of wrestling fans are interested in learning more about you. You mentioned to me earlier that you’re a big fan of indy pro wrestling, even more so than mainstream pro. Who are some of the indy pro wrestlers than you like?

Charlie: So I’ve always been drawn to the size difference matches, big versus little, David versus Goliath. And I’ve always liked the high flyers. Growing up, Rey Mysterio was easily always my favorite. So I’ve always been drawn to the same kinds of wrestlers on the indy scene, like Nate Wings, Ryan Kidd, Zack Sabre, Eli Everfly. Them against the big guys.

Bard: So who are the big guys that you like?


Charlie: Son of a beeswax (laughing, trying to come up with names). Terex, Brian Cage. Anytime you have the big giant guys versus the small, high flyers, that’s what I’ve always been drawn to because I’m a smaller guy, and I always thought that maybe I could take on some of the bigger guys.

Bard: I like it! And you and I have talked about this, that I think that is a cool angle.

Charlie: Before I got into this I always envisioned myself as the glorified jobber type. You know, I like seeing squash matches or whatever, and I figured that’s going to be my role. I never realized how hard wired my personality was. I’m not a pushover, and I do NOT like being humiliated in the ring. I do NOT like getting my ass kicked. I like to fight back with 110% of everything I’ve got, and I did not envision that to be the case before I started.

Bard: I think that’s awesome. I think that makes for good wrestling from a fan’s perspective.

Charlie: Especially since you start off thinking, oh, I’m going to be a jobber. And then snap, almost instantly, no, that’s not going to be me.

Bard: In the moment, I’m getting more into this.

Charlie: Right, it’s like, all right, I’m going to have a fifty-pound weight disadvantage, or a hundred pound disadvantage, and I am going to fight back with every ounce of strength, speed, agility, what have you. I’m not going to fight dirty, because I’m too nice for that. But I’m not going to give up. I’m not going to quit.


Charlie opens up a can of whoop ass on Chase Addams in TTT19

Bard: I think that’s fantastic. So thinking of you in the fight, getting provoked, getting competitive in the moment, I’m picturing your BG East debut in Tag Team Torture 19.


Charlie: First, I’ve got to say, that was one of the best AND funnest matches of my life, and I could not have been happier that that was my BG East debut. That was a kick ass match. I loved that one.

Bard: Nice! So I’m thinking of that opening sequence in that match. It’s both you and Christian Taylor, but you sort of go ballistic in that.

Charlie: Yeah! You know we get some good roll up pins, atomic drops, and I get to debut the Ginger Snap.

Bard: Tell us about the Ginger Snap.

Charlie: Oh, the Ginger Snap. First, you’ve got to brand everything, so that’s my first “patented” move. And that’s running handstand headscissors that flips the guy right across the ring. I kind of use my speed and size and stuff. You know, it can backfire though. I’ve been powerbombed a couple of times doing it.

Bard: I could see that.

Charlie: But you catch them off guard, and booya!

Charlie worked extra hard to make his tag team partner proud

Bard: Nice! Well it looks amazing. It’s very cool to watch. And it’s sort of along those lines of a real small guy who could probably easily be underestimated, who then pulls off something that is really devastating. It’s really cool.

Charlie: Just be on the look out for some other moves, like Ginger Bombs.

Bard: Excellent!

Charlie: Now, you’re going to have to wait to see what those are. You’ve got the Ginger Splash. I’ve been saying I need to go away from the “ginger” aspect.

Bard: I don’t know why. I don’t think you do.

Charlie: Yeah, well, I’ve been overruled on that one. I figured I could at least go with “scarlet” every now and then, but the ginger thing is sticking.

Bard: (laughing) Good! So, a tag team. Does that increase the competitiveness, the “I need to fight more, I need to pull my weight?”

Christian Taylor inspires tag team loyalty

Charlie: Oh gosh, yes. I’m a good guy, so I’ve got to be looking out for my partner. And when you’ve got Christian Taylor in your corner, that certainly helps.

Bard: Absolutely.


Charlie: He had my back. I had his back, and the opponents didn’t really have their own backs.

Bard: They did not have each other’s backs, which was definitely the tale of that match.

Charlie: Oh, they were a bit of a mess. And you can quote that.

Bard: (laughing) They were a significant mess. I think they, well, at least one of the two of them would probably agree with that.

Charlie: Maybe (sounding doubtful).

Bard: So, over at MDW I haven’t seen all of your MDW releases.

Charlie: Oh my gosh!

Bard: I know, I feel bad about it. I was trying to do my homework beforehand, but I didn’t get to see everything. But my first introduction to you was actually your MDW work as… wait, it’s not the Riddler. What do they call him?

Charlie: Riddle Man!

Revenge of Riddle Man

Bard: Riddle Man! Your Riddle Man takedown of Superman in the form of Damien Rush. Which was another example of you maybe picturing yourself as ending up a jobber in this business, and then your opening match…

Charlie: … I not only get to kick some ass, but I get my heel side on.

Bard: Yes! Was that fun?

Charlie: Yeah, I mean, when you get to portray someone like the Riddle Man, you kind of get to tap into your darker side a little bit. A side you might not be aware exists. But, yeah, anytime you can get Damien Rush’s ass…

Bard: Yes. It’s a nice ass to kick.

Charlie: It is.

Bard: And you spend a little bit of time paying attention to his ass in that match. Which I admire immensely.

Squeeze that super ass!

Charlie: Oh? I was not aware.

Bard: No? You spend, well, Riddle Man spends pretty extensive time going back and forth between trying to decide in the long run which is the best angle to go at him, from the front side or the back.

Charlie: That is right. He gave me a lot to work with.

Bard: (laughing) He does!

Charlie: Yes, both front and back. I had to give equal attention to both.

Bard: Yes, super sexy match, and again, I’m a big fan of Damien’s ass, so you gave it some hands on treatment there.

All hands on deck

Charlie: Yeah. What can I say? The Riddle Man really, really wanted to work that ass, in-between bashing some balls.

Bard: Absolutely. Anyway, fantastic to watch, very pleasing.

Charlie: And as a chatterbox, Riddle Man, he’s also a bit of a chatterbox. He had to be working with both riddles and puns on the fly. So I don’t think I stopped talking once during that entire match.

Bard: (laughing) And is that true to you?

Charlie: That’s true to me, though I’m not usually so mean! To all of the sudden on the fly realize that you have to fill up 20, 25 minutes of riddles and puns, yeah, it’s a challenge that I hope I rose to.

Bard: I think you did fantastic with it. I was recently having conversations with a couple other people about how much dialogue is too much, that kind of thing, and I’m pretty much always big on clever, on-point dialogue being a huge asset to a match. Not just sort of blabbing for blabbing’s sake, by any means.

Charlie: Well, you can’t be the Riddle Man without asking a few questions, including questions that don’t have any answers, but that give you a fantastic excuse to lay on some punishment for “wrong” answers.

Bard: Absolutely. Very good. So, most recently what I wrote a review about your most recent MDW appearance, which you did get a chance to see this review, as I remember, correct?

Charlie: I loved it.

Bard: Nice!

Charlie: I love them all. They’re always fantastic to read.

Bard: I’m incredibly honored to hear you say that. So as you probably read then, I’m a long time fan of Steel Muscle God, and I thought when MDW got him on this side of the pond, that that was a huge coup. And while I’ve enjoyed watching him, I still say he’s a little wooden, he’s not really like a natural wrestler, it doesn’t seem to me. But he’s got such attitude all of the time, that he makes it incredibly engaging.

Charlie: And he’s got those steel muscles that kind of make up the difference.

Bard: Exactly. So then, most recently, you come strolling out and find him in the ring at MDW, and get to spend about 20, 25 minutes with him. And I feel like I needed to say this isn’t exactly a wrestling match, but an incredibly compelling 20 to 25 minutes. How was it for you?

Charlie: Well, first it’s a little bit like a blur.

Bard: (laughing) Fair enough.

Charlie: What can somebody say when you take on Steel Muscle God? You are probably going to get your ass kicked. You’re a little bit in awe of the size and definition.

Bard: And you mention at the beginning, when he catches you…

“Cleaning the ring”

Charlie: I was cleaning the ring.

Bard: (laughing) Yes, you’re cleaning the ring, coincidentally with his sweaty shirt stuffed in your face.

Charlie: You know, he left it there lying on the ropes and I was just trying to be a good fellow wrestler…

Bard: (laughing) I saw that. I saw that. But you mentioned at the time, as you’re explaining why you’re there, you mention that you’re a fan. Had you been a fan? Are you familiar with his stuff?

Charlie: Oh, yeah! I was a fan of Steel Muscle God. Anybody who’s seen his work is probably also a fan.

Bard: He’s got a lot of fans.

Charlie: It doesn’t take much to become a fan of Steel Muscle God. So yeah, it was surprising, seeing him in the ring. So I did what any fan would probably do in that situation.

Bard: Right. Grab his shirt. And smell it.

Charlie: Yeah, and then maybe try to get out of there before he gets his hands on you, yeah.

Bard: (laughing) Fair enough. So along those lines, I was struck by the five senses of that match, because it starts with you getting caught smelling the shirt. Tell me about smelling the shirt.

Charlie: Oh, boy. It was definitely all Steel Muscle God.

Bard: He said he was recently back from the gym.

Charlie: Yeah, I could tell.

Bard: Good stuff?

Charlie: Oh yeah, great!

Bard: So let’s keep going. I have to say, I’m always a little enthralled with his accent. So the sound of this match…

Charlie: His grammar structure is always a lot of fun.

Bard: I love his English. It’s like, there’s never anything technically wrong. It just isn’t the way that I’d expect to hear someone say it. But he’s fluent, so it’s very cool. So, as a fan, is there anything sound-wise that struck you from that time you spent with him?

When Steel Muscle God speaks, people listen.

Charlie: Well, he’s very commanding.

Bard: He is!

Charlie: He tells you to do something, and you kind of have a hard time resisting doing it.

Bard: I got that impression.

Charlie: And if you don’t listen, he’s got the size and the muscles to make you listen.

Bard: Absolutely. And speaking of the size and the muscle, you got some up close time spent with those muscles. So let’s talk about the tactile nature of what turns into a muscle worship session. Anything that you can share?

“You can understand why this person gets his way.”

Charlie: The first time I felt the muscles and the strength I was outside the ropes and he grabbed me and literally just chucked me into the ring. It’s almost as though throwing 125 pounds is just no big deal for Steel Muscle God. Who woulda thought? And then from that point on, I resisted at first, but he kind of just pounded through it. And then when you’re actually feeling those muscles, you can understand why this person gets his way. He is a VERY solid individual.

Bard: He looks it!

Charlie: He’s got a well earned name. It felt hard as steel. Biceps all the way down to the legs. There was no give or take in the muscle. He is one of the hardest individuals I’ve ever met, and no pun or innuendo intended.

Bard: Understood. Along those lines, as much as I was impressed with him as always, I have to say I was really fascinated and giving you tons of credit for using almost every opportunity to get another feel of another angle on him.

Charlie: Well, he brought me in there, so at that point, all bets are off.

Bard: True enough. And he wasn’t exactly hating it along the way, clearly. I was really pleased with how he was getting into the pleasure of being worshipped.

Charlie: I think he may have smacked me around when I resisted a little.


Bard: This is true. But even when he snaps you up in a bearhug early on and you’re sort of resisting and pushing back, and I’m thinking I’m not reading into it, that you’re enjoying the feel of his pecs in your hands. Would that be fair to say?

Charlie: Uh, they were pretty good pecs (laughing).

Bard: (laughing) And then, my favorite moments from the match have to be you in those standing headscissors. In which case your hands aren’t stopping moving the entire time, up and down his legs.

Charlie: And funny thing is, if he told me to do that, I probably didn’t hear, because my head was being crushed between those steel thighs.

Bard: It looked like it!

Charlie: So that was all me getting touchy feely.

It helps to be bendy.

Bard: I was a little worried about your neck in the face-to-crotch, the upside down standing headscissors. I was thinking, that can’t be comfortable, and he had you hanging there for quite a while.

Charlie: Well, I’m very bendy.

Bard: Which would come in handy.

Charlie: It definitely helps. But it was like being in a steel vise.

Bard: So we’ve done smell, sound, touch. Now, I didn’t know, but my sense was that there are several moments when he’s shoving your face into his muscles, biceps, chest, lots of that. And I don’t have a great camera angle on it, because, trust me, I was pausing, reversing, pausing reversing, that kind of thing, but my sense was that you might have gotten a little bit of a taste. Can you say anything about that? What does Steel Muscle God taste like?

Charlie: Oh, boy, yeah, my face was shoved pretty much all over.

Bard: It was!

Charlie: You know, I’m probably going to let the viewers’ imagination run with that.

Bard: Oh, no! Denied!

Different tastes

Charlie: (laughing) Sorry. You know, he might have different tastes for every part of his body, is all I’ll say.

Bard: Oh!? That’s a little provocative. All right, I’ll take it. And then finally the sight. He is just a pretty, pretty man. And like I said, you pretty much had a close up on every single angle of him. Anything you can say about the sight of him? What it is to take in the sight of him that close?

Charlie: Well, first, one of my biggest advantages that I think I bring to the table in a match, is that I make anybody look pretty damn good next to me.

Bard: (laughing) Really!?

Charlie: Yeah, his size, his muscles, I’m guessing everything looked even more impressive next to little me.

Bard: Huh.

Charlie: And then up close and personal, he’s not somebody you’d want to pick a fight with in a bar or on a wrestling mat or pretty much anywhere, because you’re probably going to get your ass kicked. And up close and personal, that’s just an inescapable fact.


Nailed it.

Bard: I hear that. So, in that last face-to-crotch, the bendy-required move near the end there, I was just trying to picture as I was reviewing that for the blog, and I was thinking you’re looking up. Your head is between his thighs. Great position. So his crotch is right in your face. He’s got sensational abs, big, round, hard pecs, and he was staring down at you, insisting that you look up at him. What was that sight like?

Charlie: Well you pretty much just nailed it.

Bard: (laughing) I’ve placed myself sufficiently in the moment?

Charlie: Yeah, you pretty much nailed it. It’s just one, two, three, four. You’ve got that package, right above your face, pretty much eclipsing everything else. But then you see the outline of that six-pack, or eight-pack, or whatever you want to call it. And those big, giant, mountainous pecs, and then that cocky, very alpha look, staring down at you just pretty much making eye contact and telling you, “you want to look everywhere else, but you look at me right now.”

Bard: Like I said, I thought that was very compelling, and since you said you read the blog post, you kno what I had noticed that he’s looking for your friends to join you next time. And I just wanted to clarify that I’m willing for us to be considered friends, just so you know.

Charlie: (laughing) I have lots of buddies who got very, very jealous, and would love to meet Steel Muscle God, but I will absolutely put you at the front of the line.

Bard: Nice! I appreciate that! Good, well then maybe this interview will see the light of day.

Charlie: (laughing) There’s got to be blogger perks.

Bard: I’ve been doing it for, what has it been, six, seven years? Eight years now?

Charlie: I think you’re due.

Bard: I’m due for some blogger perks!

Charlie: You’ve put in your time. I think it’s time.

Bard: (laughing) That is so funny. I appreciate that! You mentioned you making opponents look good. What do you mean by that?

Charlie: I want to carve out a niche. Every roster needs a little guy. And I want that spot. I want to be the go-to little guy in any roster I’m on.

Sometimes, size matters in unexpected ways

Bard: I think that’s fantastic, and I agree. I like that, the sense of there being something particularly engaging about a size differential, you looking uphill, and then battling uphill. I think that’s very cool. I’m interested in the idea, though, that you make someone else look good. Do you not like the way you look? Do you think guys are just looking at your opponent and thinking “that guy’s hot,” because he’s in the ring with you?

Charlie: I think you’ll find a lot of wrestlers have body image issues.

Bard: I’ve gotten that impression, sure.

Charlie: Personally, you will never find me raving about the way I look. It’s one of those things where anyone who looks in the mirror is going to see flaws in themselves. You have to have enough self-awareness to take a step back and go, even if you might not care for your own personal appearance, other people might. And now that I’ve been out there on the scene for a little while now, the feedback has been fantastic, and for a kid like me, it definitely makes it easier to keep putting yourself out there when you might not have the highest opinion of your look, but you seem to be picking up fans left and right.

Bard: Yeah! Good.

Charlie: But like I said, I’m perfectly content to be the little guy. I don’t want to become some jacked muscle beast. That is horrifying to me. In fact I keep trying to lose a little bit of weight here and there, and everyone is telling me I’ve got to put on 5 or 10 pounds. But I personally think you’ve got to play up the size difference. That’s my one big advantage. You stick me next to a middle weight, and they look like a heavyweight. You stick me next to a heavy weight, and they look like Godzilla.

Bard: Right. And like I said I think there’s a ton of potential in those differentials. There’s a ton of cool potential on the side of a middle weight who can hoist you up over their head, when they can’t necessarily do that with most opponents.

Not necessarily breaking a sweat

Charlie: Absolutely. Let’s just say a lot of wrestlers don’t necessarily break a sweat when they’re tossing me around. And now one of my go to functions sometimes behind the scenes, I’m pretty much a living, breathing wrestling practice dummy for some of the guys. If we have to be planning matches, some logistics, you don’t necessarily want to tire the wrestlers out. So, let’s send in Charlie. You aren’t going to tire anyone out. They can practice some suplexes, powerbombs, gorilla presses. Make it look good, and then they can kick ass for somebody a little bigger. I’ve got lots of talents and uses in this business.

Bard: (laughing) Very cool! I’m not going to let you go on your body quite yet though. What kind of feedback do you get? Have you got fan feedback? Do fans of Charlie Evans reach out and tell you, “I like what you did?”

Charlie: Yeah, and I don’t always know how to respond. I have a very hard time seeing it. I never even liked my red hair growing up, but now I kind of love being a ginger.

Bard: Oh, wow! Of course, I bet you get feedback on that.

Charlie: Yeah, I’m kind of like a unicorn on the wrestling scene. There’s not a lot of small, twink-like gingers running around. So I’ve got the little guy space carved out, and now I’m trying to make inroads and claim my top ginger status. I know there’s another contender by the name of…

Bard: …Kid Karisma. Yes, I love that you’ve got your eye on the top ginger title. And I will agree with you from your summer match with Blaine that regardless of how that match turned out, I don’t think he made inroads into legitimately claiming top ginger status.

Who is the gingeriest of them all?

Charlie: Not even close. But Kid Karisma, though, he’s got a shot.

Charlie thinks Kid Karisma “has a shot”

Bard: (laughing) A shot? Yes, he does!

Charlie: And there might be enough space for the big giant muscle bodybuilder Kid Karisma and little old me over here.

Bard: I would hope that you don’t always stay on opposite sides there.

Charlie: Oh?

Bard: I would love to see that match up. Have you ever thought about a ginger-on-ginger Kid Karisma match?

Charlie: What about a tag team?

Bard: Ahh! Fantastic! See!? My gosh, the ginger moves… you couldn’t stop naming ginger moves.

Charlie: The Ginger Express. We’d just be kicking ass!

Bard: I think that would be golden!

Charlie: I think it’s time for the gingers to rise up, you know?

Bard: Yes. Yes. So fans like the ginger.

Charlie: Oh, they love it apparently.

Bard: Fans like the lean, small guy thing.

Charlie: I call myself scrawny, but they think I’m more lean.

Bard: Anything else fans rave about?

Charlie: Apparently I come across as very earnest in the ring. I wear a lot of expression on my face.

Bard: You do!

this kind of wide-eyed thing

Charlie: I’ve got this kind of wide-eyed thing, I either wear a smile or I’m screaming in pain. And apparently, they do like how expressive I can be.

Bard: Absolutely. I’ve referred to that as presence. When wrestlers are present in the moment, and I get the impression they’re not thinking about something else, they’re actually experiencing this moment.

Charlie: I have a laser focus in my matches, on my opponent and what is coming at me.

Bard: I can see that.

Charlie: You know, what you see when I’m in a match, that’s me. That’s just 100% Charlie. There’s no filters or anything.

Bard: That’s how you come across. How many of your fans have mentioned your ass?

Charlie: (laughing, turning red) Ohhhhhh.

I’m not the only one who’s a fan of Charlie’s ass

Bard: I’m not the only one. No chance.

Charlie: Well, you know, this is an uncomfortable topic, because I know a fellow wrestler who has a very high opinion of his ass.

Bard: Uh-huh?

Charlie: And he doesn’t like competition.

Bard: I think I know what wrestler you’re referring to (laughing).

Charlie: And so when I’m getting complimented on mine, someone is feeling a little threatened.

Bard: I could see that. I would have thought that whole thing might have already been put to rest by the match record thus far, but no?

Charlie: He might not take win-loss records as an accurate commentary on his ass.

Bard: Fair enough.

Charlie: Honestly, I never had too much of an opinion about my ass.

Bard: Interesting!

Charlie: Yeah, but fans do seem to like it. So, you know what, I’m going to throw myself into contention for best ass. For the fans.

Bard: As one of those fans, I think that’s fantastic. I’m whole-heartedly in support of that. I think there are lots of fine qualities to different types of asses, and I think you definitely should own that, that you’ve got an ass that attracts attention.

Charlie: I will say, I don’t know for what reason, but a lot of wrestlers in the ring tend to like giving me massive wedgies. Or spanking my ass. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed that.

Lining up to get their hands on that ass

Bard: And for that, your fans are thrilled.

Charlie: I mean, my entire ass is on display. And that is not how I go into the matches, but boy, it is happening more and more frequently.

Is Ty feeling threatened?

Bard: I’m going to watch for that because I think that is something to watch for! So, how do you describe your wrestling style?

Charlie: I would like to think I’ve got speed and agility to my advantage. One of the other things though is my pain tolerance is through the roof. I am tougher than just about anybody my size. I have taken some insane beatings, from some of the biggest guys on the scene and you’ll never hear me complain or whine about any of the bumps or bruises or welts that I walk away with, and there’s been TONS of those! So my stamina, my endurance, my toughness in the ring are definitely some of my biggest advantages. And I’m trying to ramp up my high flying abilities.

Bard: Nice!

Charlie: Yeah, so in the future look for more hurricanas, flying headscissors, splashes. I want to be someone who jumps on the ropes and jumps all over the place and catches everyone off guard.

Bard: Fantastic.

Charlie: Literally throw my entire HUGE body weight at my opponent and catch them off guard. Or maybe they’ll just catch me. Who knows?

Bard: I will definitely look forward to that. And in underground wrestling circles, that’s definitely a rare breed, so I think that’s definitely awesome for you to have your eye on that.

All wrapped up

Charlie: I like to use a lot of submission moves that use my weight to my advantage. Like I already said, I’m pretty bendy, so I can literally wrap myself around an opponent, and they have to support my entire bodyweight as I’m cranking on their arms, their necks, their legs what have you, so it’s kind of the double edged sword.

Bard: Very good! Any wrestlers that you haven’t wrestled yet that you would enjoy, that would be on your list of “that would be a fun match?”

Charlie: Anybody on the online wrestling scene?

Bard: Yeah.

Charlie: I’d love an official match against Jonny Firestorm. He’s kicked my ass a few times behind the scenes. He’d be a phenomenal opponent. He’s a master of submission moves and he definitely knows how to throw out a beating. But maybe there’s a slim chance I could catch him off guard.

Bard: Nice!

Charlie: I would love to test my mettle against somebody like Brute Baynard or Guido.

Bard: You’re a brave, brave man.

Charlie: Maybe even a two-on-one match.

Bard: (laughing) Wow!

Charlie: I mean, with strictly enforced tag team rules, I’m not going to put myself too far out there and say I could take them both on at the same time, but maybe, that may be another match that I wouldn’t mind.

Bard: I think that’s fantastic, particularly since we’ve just seen Jonny and Brute and Guido in a 3-way match that for the most part ends up being a 2-on-1 that then goes into a melee. And Jonny got pretty much bulldozed, I have to say.

Charlie: Sure, and those two guys could pick me up and toss me back and forth like a bag of potatoes.

Bard: But you’d enjoy it?

Charlie: It would be fun.

Bard: That says a lot. I think we’re getting to know Charlie Evans.

Charlie: I think people underestimate Charlie Evans. So. Any other wrestlers that I would love to take on… You’ve got Kayden Keller. A little bit of a force of nature.

Bard: And another big guy.

Charlie: Yeah. I have a tendency to want to challenge myself against the best. Oh, and any time a certain Ty Alexander wants to try to take me on in a singles match, I’m game and maybe we can put other questions to rest.

Bard: I think between the outcome of your tag team match this summer, and between the potential that Ty could possibly even be said wrestler who we were referring to earlier as someone who really prefers to hold the best ass accolades all to himself, I think that could be a sensational grudge match.

Charlie: I will neither confirm nor deny that he was who I was referring to.

Bard: (laughing) Excellent.

Charlie: I’ve actually got a long list of guys, because I’m going to be around for a while, and I’m going to want to take on everybody. But another person is Drake.

Drake vs. Charlie? Blogger’s Delight!

Bard: Drake Marcos?

Charlie: Your buddy Drake. Generally I like to pick a fight with the big guys. But Drake’s been around, and he’s shown his chops. I’m a little threatened that maybe he could take a beating maybe almost as well as me. So I would kind of like to throw myself at him and see what the outcome might be.

Bard: Well, from first hand experience, let me just say he can definitely suffer. He suffers like a champ, in fact. And, because I feel for the guy, you know… take it easy on him.

Charlie: Oh? (laughing) I’ll keep that in mind.

Bard: (laughing) Good.

Charlie: We’ve already talked about Kid Karisma. So I’m just kind of going through the whole Rolodex of wrestlers, you know.

Bard: So who would Riddle Man like to size up in the ring based on their ass? Because we know Riddle Man is into that.

Charlie: Really? He wasn’t more of a ball person?

Bard: (laughing) He was back and forth. And I do think in the end he went for the balls as the primary target, but based on my own interest in Damien’s ass…

Charlie: All right, who would Riddle Man want to take on? Well, first, Bat Stud. Come on, now. That has to happen.

Bard: Yes. That and your muscle worship release recently, I would just have those on back to back, back to back constantly.

Charlie: Now I’m trying to think if I could cross the fed. I will say this, I’m a big comic book fan and into company crossovers. So, I think there would be a lot of potential for there to be inter-federation fights and challenges, and let’s leave it at that.

Bard: That’s fair. You have been wresting for a while, but you’re fairly new. Your first MDW match has been out just about a year. And then the 2 matches from BG East this summer. So fans are still getting to know Charlie Evans. So anything else about Charlie Evans, not just as the wrestler, but what would fans want to know about Charlie the human?

Do NOT apologize for that!


Charlie: I know wrestlers aren’t supposed to talk about how nice they are. We’re supposed to project a very tough, take no prisoners visage. But I am one of the happiest go lucky people you’ll ever meet. You’re not going to see me doing a lot of cheap shots. Maybe in desperation, but if I did, I’d feel really, really bad about it. I’m somebody who, if I lay out my opponent, I kind of have to fight the urge to offer him a hand back up before the match is even done. That’s something I’m working on.

Bard: (laughing) I think you’ll need to work on that. A pro wrestler who feels guilty along the way seems like a formula for disaster.

Charlie: How can I not feel bad when I’m kicking someone’s ass who’s 50 pounds bigger than me, and they’re taking a beating from the little guy. You know, you’ve got to feel bad.

Bard: I’m not sure “bad” is how I’m feeling when I’m watching you do it, I have to say. But whatever intra-psychic thing you’re dealing with in the moment, I guess I have to honor that what’s coming out on screen is pretty damn entertaining.

Charlie: Another thing, I will always push myself to get better. I would like to show my fans and fellow wrestlers that every single year you can see improvement. New repertoire of moves. Better physical fighting condition. Hopefully an even more impressive win record, although I’m doing pretty okay for my size as a newbie right now.

Bard: Absolutely!

Today’s grunt work for tomorrow’s marquee dreams

Charlie: And I’m in this for the long haul. So hopefully the fans are okay with that, because I’m kind of hoping to stick around for as long as I can.

Bard: When we start to see more of those wedgies happening, I think fans are going to be just fine with that, just so you know. And I appreciate you taking the time to let me pepper you with questions and get into a little psychoanalysis here and there and get to know you a little bit better.

Charlie: Well, how could I ever, ever not help out one of my favorite bloggers?

Bard: You’re too kind. And I’ll believe it when I get the invitation to be one of your friends when SMG is in town next.

Charlie: You keep writing amazing reviews, and I will make that happen.

Bard: (laughing) Excellent! Thank you very much.

I’m here for you, my good, good friend!


Face the Music

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

The Gods have Landed

I confess that Steel Muscle God (SMG) continues to be a sentimental favorite of mine. I remember the first time I caught glimpse of him. Someone had captured a brief clip for YouTube of SMG doing a private cam show, dressed in a sensationally tight wrestling singlet and glasses (I swoon).  In his eastern European accent, he flexed and snarled and promised to dominate and destroy any wrestling opponent with his godlike muscles. I wasn’t the only one to discover him and click “like.” His fan following grew, motivating a personality driven SMG muscle worship site. Oh, yes, and inspiring a series of fictional wrestling scenes that I wrote for this blog, featuring him in a magnificent muscle battle against another European cocktease muscle man.

Steel Muscle God has landed!

Back near the beginning of my SMG infatuation, I offered to pitch in to buy him a plane ticket to the US to hook up with one of our domestic producers of homoerotic wrestling products to really polish him to a blinding shine. Muscle Domination Wrestling teased just that a while back, producing and publishing MDW stamped wrestling videos starring SMG. But they were contract pieces. SMG was still in eastern Europe, facing, albeit sensationally sexy, local talent there.  But my way back fantasy of SMG hopping a plane and landing in the US for an all-American welcome to homoerotic wrestling stardom just came true. MDW brought him here (and I didn’t even have to pay for his plane ticket!), and he’s now available for viewing in Super Men 5.

Bat Stud promises justice all over bulging beefcake Riddle Man

“That prick will definitely get what he deserves,” and angry Batman Super Bat Stud murmurs to himself, his sense of justice tweaked. SMG is cast as the dark knight, driven with a passion for justice that frequently shoves him right over the edge of vigilantism. He’s in the MDW garage ring, in painted-on black trunks and boots. He flexes and monologues, like any good self-righteous superhero does, before donning his Bat Stud cowl and sucking down a little liquid courage to really pump himself up for facing the reigning bad boy in Gotham Boston, the Riddler Riddle Man.

I’m guessing Red Bull and vodka.

“Looking for me, Bat Stud?” Riddleman arrives, laughing ominously, as if he knows something the impressive Bat Stud doesn’t. Morgan Cruise has managed to yank the Riddler tights onto his massively muscled frame without ripping it to shreds, which I think proves that he is, indeed, superhuman. The last Riddle Man to don that suit was somewhere around half the man Morgan is. The sheer mass of Morgan’s out of control curly locks could probably pin Charlie Evans for a 3-count. I’m bitter that Morgan’s hairy body stays entirely suited throughout this match, but fans of muscle-stretched lycra will probably find this value added.

SMG thrills me from behind

“You’ve been doing your shenanigans for a long time, but you need to be brought to justice!” Bat Stud snarls threateningly. Bat Stud with an eastern European accent instantly grabs me right at the base of my balls. That mouthwatering ass of his squeezing out here and there from the confines of his too tight trunks doesn’t hurt matters, either.

Making muscle domination wrestling an art form!

I argue that MDW is the leading company in producing narrative-driven homoerotic wrestling, and particularly for that distinction, they keep me on the line. In this case, Riddle Man has spiked Bat Stud’s shot of courage that he downed moments before donning his mask (SMG fans will appreciate the homage to his muscle worship site gimmick of sucking down tonics that do all sorts of things like turning him into a giant). Bat Stud is weak, helplessly bullied by the boy in green.

“This is NOT happening!!!”

“I’m going to drain you!” Riddle Man promises, manhandling the masked muscle man with relish.  “I’m going to suck out all of your power, all of your strength, and I’m going to make it mine. And I’m going to get my hands all over that body!” Here’s the other strong suit that MDW brings to the table lately.  Some (not all) of MDW’s roster unflinchingly charge headlong into the explicitly homoerotic text that their audience enjoys. Some other companies are still producing matches as if the homoeroticism, the muscles dominated, the implications of physical intimacy and sexual foreplay aren’t on our minds. Of course, some other companies are specializing in wrestling-as-sexual-foreplay, with seemingly every wrestling narrative rushed through in order to set up two hot pornboys fucking each other’s brains out. MDW is one of just a couple that I can think of that charts a middle way, dabbling here and there in explicitly sexual content, but for the most part, dialing up the homoeroticism by simply overtly acknowledging erotic lust as a factor in the wrestling narrative. Not that I don’t get off on some g-rated fratboy, mainstream pro imitation hot bodied wrestling matches. And not that I don’t saddle up frequently for enjoying full, fuck stakes pornboy grappling foreplay (I usually don’t linger on the fucking). But I really appreciate the respect MDW (and BGE) are giving their audiences, at least at times, by just treating our lust as something other than their dirty little secret.

Suck on that pain, SMG!

“This is NOT happening!” Bat Stud groans in shock. Our superhero is accustomed to outmuscling his opponents. The vigilante hunk is used to flexing and sneering in the faces of rule breakers on the way to manhandling them right to jail. But his spiked tonic is making him raw meat for Riddle Man to torture mercilessly.

“… I must confess, I’m pretty excited.”

“Getting my hands all over these muscles, I must confess, I’m pretty excited,” Riddle Man confesses, again cementing my allegiance in the match to the forces of evil and injustice.  He strokes SMG’s torso. He slaps his ass. At this rate, whether on camera or off, I’m pretty sure Bat Stud is going to be getting his hot ass fucked for days just like Super Stud did to a red-headed twink Riddle Man not so long ago. SMG suffering long!? SMG dominated and humiliated, provoked and possessed!?! Oh, fuck, yes.


This is SMG, after all…

Long-time fans of SMG will not be surprised when I reveal the spoiler that Bat Stud miraculously, inexplicably (okay, so plot holes abound in MDW’s enthusiastic efforts to produce narrative-driven homoerotic wrestling) regains his super strength. Riddle Man’s punches to SMG’s rock hard core bounce off harmlessly (except for bruising Riddle Man’s knuckles).  Bat Stud spends the last third of the match bullying and preening. He backs Riddle Man into a corner and beats him to his knees.

“Wh-wh-what are you!”

“Wh-wh-what are you!” Riddle Man stutters, in a direct quote from the 1989 Batman movie, proving yet again, as if we needed further proof, that MDW is masterminded by the sexiest pack of muscle nerds to dabble in gay wrestling.  What he is is a decent nod to the dark side of the Batman franchise, the vigilante who starts to get a kick out of not just bringing badboys to justice, but bullying them first, dominating and terrifying them. This is a superhero who clearly is starting to get off on the highlight reel he’s recording in his head of making a hot, beefy, (too) hairy muscle hunk like Morgan Cruise cower and quiver and beg.

SMG glistens in total control of Morgan Cruise.

“You win, Bat Stud!  Send me to prison!” Riddle Man pleads for reprieve, begs for straight up justice under threat of the boundary crossing vigilante who’s starting to enjoy this delivery of corporal punishment too much.  How far might a steel muscle god in black go, with revenge on his mind and a growing sexual taste for turning muscle bullies into fuck puppets?

Really rub that victory in, SMG!

Okay, that last bit is mostly me extrapolating the juicy homoerotic wrestling narrative that Super Men 5 seeds. And, of course, that’s a skill I’ve learned after decades of enjoying the homoeroticism of wrestling, having learned how to take the barest thread of a storyline and add all the sexual heat and lustful intent that I need to to feed my homoerotic wrestling kink.  MDW doesn’t make me work so hard, though. They know it’s me (and you) tuning in and getting turned on, and they aren’t embarrassed to appreciate their audience for exactly who we are.j

I think SMG needs to find a daddy like Matt Thrasher.

Now, if I may make a request, let’s see SMG face Matt Thrasher in a Daddy’s Home episode, because I’ve been waiting to see SMG bent over some muscle daddy’s knee and spanked into weeping submission for years!

Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month

I’m still catching up on neglected standout wrestling studs who abundantly earned praise for their new releases thus far this year.  I believe it was March when Muscle Domination Wrestling released season 14 and their first collaboration with Steel Muscle God.  Based on that release, I was haunted by a particular hunk who I’m retroactively awarding the title as Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month for March 2015…

… ripped, rocking rookie Stefan Ramos.

Even the Steel Muscle God is irresistibly drawn to get his hands on Stefan’s hot bod.

Stefan is one of my more unconventional choices, I realize. By that, I mean that I’m guaranteed to get grief from die hard fans who will bitch and moan at me for making the “wrong” choice. But regular readers know that I march to the beat of my own drummer, and this is an instance in which I’m saying handsome Stefan not only grabbed me by the balls in Six Pack Bash 7, but he left me quite breathless for more of him. Some of the fans who started the hating about 15 seconds ago are the hardcore Steel Muscle God fanatics who are going nuts that I’m passing over SMG for his rookie prey. If you’ve read this blog at all, you know I have a long standing crush on SMG, including a favorite interview I had the chance to publish with the European phenom. But it was the rookie’s hardbodied suffering sell that made me swoon here.

Classic beauty brutalized.

The crystal cuts in his incredible physique and that ample, sculpted, luscious grab-with-two-hands-and-pound-him ass left me seeing young Stefan in my mind’s eye in intrusive waking and sleeping moments.  There’s something classically perfect about his breathtaking beauty twisted into horrified suffering, the mixture of disbelieving shock and terrified panic.

SMG serves up a feast of some of the finest cuts of rookie beef I’ve seen in a long time!

He has a look, a presence, and an athleticism that I think could make him a scorching hot commodity on the scene.  He has a fantasy man bod that makes it a sensationally easy sell to believe him as a self-obsessed narcissist. I know, I know, he was supposed to be background wall paper for the SMG show.  But taking a beating from start to finish, I was riveted by the rook, and I am completely infatuated with the severely deep cuts defining his flexed abdominals, and, did I mention that mindblowingly hot ass?  Way to go, rook (aka, March homoerotic wrestler of the month). I’m hoping to see a lot more of you.

Stefan Ramos – Homoerotic Wrestler of the Month – March 2015


Stefan Ramos sizzles as he strums his deeply creviced abs, seductively stating the obvious: “They’re so hot!”

I like a hot muscleman who knows exactly what he’s packing. Sizzlingly sexy Stefan Ramos doesn’t just appreciate the accomplishment of having chiseled a crazy fit physique.  He doesn’t just congratulate himself on the truly amazing aesthetics of his deeply creviced abs. Strumming his six-pack, unable to tear his eyes away from his own body, the impressive young rookie says what we’re all thinking, though not enough wrestlers quite so explicitly acknowledge. “Great abs,” he mutters, before adding enthusiastically, “They’re so hot!”

Steel Muscle God looks like he’s wondering, momentarily, if he may have bitten off more than he can chew in tall, ripped, dazzlingly beautiful Stefan.

The real reveal in Muscle Domination Wrestling’s Six Pack Bash 7 new release is not the dizzyingly beautiful specimen of Stefan Ramos.  It’s his opponent, none other than internet muscle worship phenom Steel Muscle God. I’ve been a fan of SMG for a long time. An occasional subscriber to his personal website (where Stefan makes appearances as “Mike”), I’ve followed the construction of his internet presence since he was just a sexy, snarling, indulgently self-adoring muscle man with a crazy hot accent and an occasional appearance on YouTube in a wrestling singlet (and specs!). I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing SMG for the pages of this blog in 2012.  I spilled several quarts of ink musing about the relative merits of SMG and another muscle worship self-promoter, Adam400m, penning a multi-chapter homoerotic wrestling fiction series on the pages of this blog, letting my imagination sort out who would put all of his mouthwatering muscles to work and come out on top and in control. For the record, I always saw SMG putting the competitive English bodybuilder on his knees, banking on SMG’s more passionate enthusiasm for appealing to the wrestling fetish crowd that you an I belong to.

SMG looks like he’s about to cum with the excitement of breaking muscle jobber Stefan in half.

I floated the idea years ago that a homoerotic wrestling producer ought to invest in a plane ticket and get SMG on this side of the Atlantic (that’s the North American side, for those of you reading from elsewhere on the globe) to exploit his wrestling enthusiasm and mouthwatering muscles to their fullest. He’s made some wrestling work trips across the European Union to take big, hot muscle boys of all shapes and sizes, mostly drawn from other YouTube personalities. I personally have a serious hot spot for his most frequent on camera wrestling companion/opponent affectionally known simply as “Wimpy Boy.” But when MDW announced a few weeks back that they were working with SMG directly, I thought my long-time fantasy was about to be realized. Six Pack Bash 7 isn’t quite everything that I’d hoped for SMG’s debut appearance with a fully mobilized homoerotic wrestling company.  But it is a distinct pleasure.

SMG grabs hold of the phenomenally sexy muscle glutes of the rookie.

SMG is significantly less impressed with smoking hot Stefan’s abs than Stefan is.  It’s long been SMG’s shtick, finding every other man inadequate in comparison to the Steel Muscle God’s physique. Truth be told, entirely objectively speaking (just kidding), Stefan is arguably a more impressive physical specimen than SMG. He’s taller, leaner, more cut. His legs and, in particular, his ass are fucking world class. Did I mention his ass? Holy fuck.

Stefan’s amazingly ripped muscles seem to bring out something new and darker in SMG.

The rookie’s dizzying pretty quotient inspires a furious assault to his gut from SMG. Almost 24 minutes and pretty much a squash from start to finish, this match is a lot like SMG’s self-produced matches over the years.  But if you’re familiar with those matches, this is probably good news for you, since you’ve followed his body of work in the past. In many ways, it’s classic SMG, really, with loads of sexy, growling trash talk, self-narrating the action, but even more, narrating his physical superiority. SMG fans dial in to watch him in equal parts for his beauty and his personality, which is a fantastic asset profile for a professional wrestler. In MDW’s Six Pack Bash 7, he delivers what he does best with perhaps a smidge more finesse, seemingly raising his game to live up to high expectations of Muscle Master Kevin back in Boston, or the wider audience of homoerotic wrestling fans this platform will introduce him to.  Or, just maybe, sensationally sexy Stefan is genuinely making SMG feel a little… short… on muscle definition, proportion, skin tone. He doesn’t throw down something entirely novel that would really take SMG fans by surprise, but the marginal upping of SMG’s game makes me wonder about halfway through whether beautiful Stefan’s lovely narrow waist, amazingly muscled ass, and razor sharp cuts may be making the Steel Muscle God feel a little insecure by comparison. Did he bite off a little more than he could chew, debuting with a homoerotic wrestling company side by side with a froth-worthy Adonis like Stefan?

Stefan’s physique makes SMG bite his lower lip anxiously.

I must admit to being sorely disappointed that SMG’s MDW debut takes place not in MDW-land.  I’m fairly confident that Stefan and the mat room in which they tussle are back in SMG’s backyard in Romania. Rather than integrating SMG into the world of MDW, this appears more of a franchising of MDW, putting Muscle Master Kevin’s imprimatur on a largely pre-existing script and cast from Europe. My fondest fantasy, of course, is seeing SMG climb into a pro wrestling ring and stand face to face with the likes of MMK or Damien Rush, or better yet, give him a week of training with an experienced wrestler like Morgan Cruise or Lon Dumont, or best of all, put him through full-on homoerotic wrestling bootcamp with Kid Leopard, Kid Vicious, and Sailor Rob. Yeah, film that, and I’ll buy two copies. And then line up the likes of Trey Dixon, Kayden Keller, Kid Karisma and Drake Marcos to really enable SMG to live into his fullest potential as a homoerotic wrestling steel muscle god.

Six Pack Bash 7 gets up close and intimate with the muscle destruction!

What MDW does accomplish with their SMG franchise pilot is notable.  The camera work and video quality is considerably higher than I ever remember seeing from SMG’s past wrestling exploits. Whoever is operating the camera has a sweet eye for it, zooming in to capture the intimacy of Stefan’s throbbing muscles quivering in SMG’s grasp. I personally find stationary cameras (which is what I’m used to from SMG’s body of work, though I admit it’s been quite a while since I sampled him) lacking, but a handheld can be even more distracting if the action isn’t framed skillfully, if the transitions from one perspective to another are too fast or jerky. The quality of Six Pack Bash 7 is high, though, making this definite value added for SMG fans longing to see his wrestling in a more professional light.

Stefan suffers mightly trapped and impotent, locked between SMG’s amazing thighs.

I’m also delighted to report that gorgeous Stefan sells like motherfucker! As much as I nurse a guilty little infatuation for SMG’s regular punching bag, Wimpy Boy, I fully admit that an SMG squash can feel a little tedious to me. Six Pack Bash 7 does not feel tedious at all, and I give jobber Stefan’s sell at least 75% credit for that. When SMG sucker punches him in the gut, the Adonis doesn’t just double over, he drops to a knee and chokes on the pain, sucking down air, reeling. When various parts of his body are locked up in the vice of SMG’s steel cabled thighs, the rookie jobber’s straining muscles and contorted face, paired perfectly with gasps and grunts and whimpers, are absolutely riveting.  He looks truly stunned to be out muscled and so completely humiliated, which makes this genuinely work.

Hot stuff Stefan sells and sells!

Well done to MDW for collaborating with a hard, hot fantasy man with a proven track record and an army of devotees.  I have to think this is going to be mutually beneficial to both Muscle Master Kevin and SMG, introducing each other’s fan bases to a new potential outlet. Fans of mat wrestling muscle squashes, saddle up for this ride right away. Those with a little value added kink for hot wrestling hunks with sexy accents, run, do not walk, to download this beauty immediately. But the real winner here, as far as I’m concerned, is a certain breakout star muscleman with the body of a Greek god and the suffering sell of a much, much more experienced muscle jobber. If SMG isn’t ready to sign up for that week of  homoerotic wrestling training with the pantheon of kingmakers that I mentioned earlier (and I wonder if he’d be willing to dip his foot into the vulnerability of honest to god give and take of a multidimensional homoerotic wrestling narrative), can I suggest that a certain silky smooth, deeply creviced, bulging, beautiful muscle jobber with a 27″ waist and stunningly shelved muscle ass would make an absolutely sensational addition to any homoerotic wrestling producer’s stable? Perhaps geography is just too big an obstacle to overcome, but I’ll count it a profound disappointment if I never see Stefan Ramos in a pro ring, dripping with sweat, muscled arms trapped in the ropes and shoulder blocked for days (naked) by an accomplished, sadistic hunk with an arsenal of pro wrestling and submission holds and just plain dirty tricks to make him choke on his own humiliation.smg


I foster an ongoing low boiling lust for Dan, better known as SteelMuscleGod.  SMG has been the subject of several brief homoerotic wrestling fan/fantasy fiction pieces I’ve written for neverland, and the sexy stud was awesome enough to give me an interview last year that gave us all a glimpse into the mind of an online entrepreneur in the muscle worship/gay wrestling kink world.  I’ve also mentioned around here a guilty little pleasure of mine in the form of a recurring supporting character in SMG’s muscle worship and wrestling video collection who SMG affectionately refers to as “Wimpy Boy,” or on special occasions, “Bitch Boy.”  After a hiatus of a couple of years from appearing with SMG on camera, Wimpy Boy returned last autumn for some bedroom wrestling scenes that made me join the chorus of SMG fans pleading to see SMG receive a full-on muscle worship treatment at Wimpy Boy’s hands.  A couple of months ago, the god and his sidekick posted a very fun commissioned muscle worship piece they did for a certain, unnamed German benefactor of the ars erotica.  Like most of SMG’s work, it’s as much performance art as it is in the family of kink or porn.  Nevertheless, it provokes me… hard… like good art is supposed to.

“He’s just one-third of my size!” says SMG.

The context isn’t entirely clear until partway through the video, but there’s apparently a German sugar daddy online with SMG and Wimpy Boy telling the boys what he’s into.  Unsurprisingly, he’s into much of the same things I’m into when it comes to SMG, including SMG playing the role that he’s strongest at: the steel muscle god narcissist.  “Even though he’s taller than me,” SMG explains as the scene opens, referring to Wimpy Boy in a white t-shirt behind him, “he’s just one-third of my size!”  SMG flexes straining the seams of his skin tight white underarmor sleeveless top.  “Yeahhhh,” he groans/growls, “look at that.”  He kisses his own biceps.  “Tastes goooooood,” he nearly purrs.  “Damn, look at that!”

“Yeah, come on, kiss those biceps!”

I’m looking.  You’re looking.  Wimpy Boy is looking.  “Oh yeah….” SMG mutters, in awe of his own power, “so pumped up!”  As always, that accent, that deep rumbling bass of a voice is a large proportion of the total package that makes SMG such a turn on to me.  Finally, he addresses Wimpy Boy when he commands, “Yeah, come and kiss those biceps!”  Wimpy Boy obeys immediately.  SMG muscles the tall drink of water down.  “Yeahhhh, get down on your knees, man! … Oooo, yeah, that’s big!  Watch me put his face right where the bicep is, yeah.  Grab his head, just like that!”  He smashes Wimpy Boy’s nose into his bicep humiliatingly.  Wimpy Boy keeps planting his lips on the mountainous peak of SMG’s right bi.

“Scheisse!… Unglaublich!… Stein hart!”

“Yeah, talk in German, bitch!” SMG commands, apparently filling a special request from the benefactor online with them.  “Tell him how good and strong these biceps are!”  The first words out of Wimpy Boy’s mouth are entirely muffled by the peak of SMG’s left bicep shoved against his lips.  But eventually he mutters, “Scheisse!  … Unglaublich… Stein hart!”  (Shit! … Unbelievable…  Rock hard!) There’s more German, but that’s as far as my memory of my high school German classes go.

Wimpy Boy is still “in training”

There’s a fascinating (for me) subtext in this 22 minute session.  Apparently like me, the German benefactor wants to see tongue on muscle worship action.  However, Wimpy Boy has said no to that.  SMG tries to make up for it by hungrily sucking on his own biceps extensively.  He spits on his muscles and makes Wimpy Boy rub the saliva across his sculpted physique.  But although the German on the other end of the line asks repeatedly for it, Wimpy Boy adamantly refuses.  No licking.  Frankly, it’s a point of near crisis in the fantasy, I think.  Worshippers don’t clench their jaws and say, “Nein.”  Awed, devoted worshippers don’t refuse their gods.  SMG, however, does a delightful pivot, explaining to the camera conspiratorially that Wimpy Boy is still “in training.”  “He will learn how to do it!” SMG explains with a twinkle in his eye, building the tension between his defiant worshipper and the promise of divine intervention.

“He’s nothing but a puppet to these strong biceps!”

“Yeah, rub your face into that fucking bicep!  Grrrrr.”  I don’t know how to put into text the extremely sexy groan, growl, rumble SMG produces from deep down inside that big chest of his.  It’s insanely sexy.  “He’s nothing but a puppet to these strong biceps.”  Not a moment too soon, SMG takes off his skin tight underarmor top.  Wimpy Boy’s eyes go wide, fixed on his god’s gorgeous pecs.  SMG commands his worshipper to stand behind him, giving us/the German an unobstructed view of SMG’s incredibly lovely body. Wimpy Boy’s hands reach out and begin stroking and massaging SMG’s biceps, shoulders.

Wimpy Boy gasps: “Scheisse!”

At one point, just as Wimpy Boys hands roam forward to cup SMG’s pecs, SMG flexes a most muscular, his pectorals flashing rock hard (stein hart!) in the worshipper’s hands.  “Scheisse!” Wimpy Boy gasps, feeling the power pulsing in the palms of his hands.

“Rub it good.  Feel the massive strength and power.  Fuck, yeah!”

Despite their German sponsor pleading again for Wimpy Boy to suck on those biceps, he won’t do it.  He will, however, join SMG in spitting on his god’s huge biceps.  He’ll obediently massage the spit lubricated muscles of SMG’s arms, shoulders, pecs and abs, his long, lean fingers caressing and squeezing every bulge and crevice.  “Rub hard,” SMG instructs his worshipper.  “Rub it good.  Feel the massive strength and power!  Fuck, yeah!”

Hell.  Yes.

I think it’s the German’s idea, but SMG demands that Wimpy Boy take his shirt off.  Hell, yes!  Their German benefactor wants to see a side by side comparison of Wimpy Boy next to SMG.  Both men chuckle at the thought.  And sure, Wimpy Boy is skinny.  He’s incredibly lean.  He’s flat as a pancake.  And still, there’s something about the combo of the two of them, bare chested, side-by-side, that seriously tweaks my kink more so than a solo session of SMG making love to the camera.  I absolutely nurture my own little personal fantasy of some 1-on-1 with SMG, but I’d give that up in a heartbeat for a full-on session of 2-on-1 with SMG and Wimpy Boy in tandem.  SMG groaning and growling and rumbling; Wimpy Boy muttering awe and adoration in Deutsch; me working some tag team action with Wimpy Boy on SMG with me going absolutely anywhere and everywhere Wimpy Boy isn’t ready to, and then perhaps SMG wrapping up Wimpy Boy is some completely dominating holds for me to let my fingers do the walking all over the long twink’s bod.  SMG would be barking instructions to us both, of course.  Yowza.

“This is getting so hot! Ready to finish you off!”

Wimpy Boy won’t go some places, but he’s delightful where he does go.  Obeying their German sponsor, he rubs his long, lean torso against the rippled topography of SMG’s abs and pecs.  Because SMG is a wrestling fetish object at heart, he grabs Wimpy Boy in a bearhug and makes him suffer.  He drags Wimpy Boy to his knees, grinding his pecs into the flat torso of his overwhelmed worshipper.  “This is getting so hot!  Ready to finish you off! Rub… it… in, so … fucking… goooooood!”

“What, you don’t like it?  I’ll make you like it!  I’ll make you love it!”

When Wimpy Boy drops to his knees and kisses SMG’s 6-pack, ripple by ripple, again there’s more than a nod to the wrestling kinksters among us.  SMG crushes Wimpy Boy’s face into his abs to teach him not just to peck, but to linger.  “That’s it, bitch boy.  What, you don’t like it?!  I’ll make you like it!  I’ll make you love it!”  He swallows him with his muscles, smothering him between his pecs, then shoving Wimpy Boy’s face deep in his armpits.  Wimpy Boy’s scalp turns dark red underneath his pale blond hair as SMG crushes his face into his muscles.  He pounds Wimpy Boy’s forehead against his chest and then drags his nose back and forth.

Wimpy Boy is due for more discipline!

As I said, this is beautiful performance art and it totally gets me off.  SMG’s physique is a wonder, and his exhibitionism is truly entertaining to watch.  His body is, indeed, astonishingly developed and noticeably bigger and more defined since his early days mattress wrestling with Wimpy Boy a couple of years ago.  I’m also struck with the unseen character in this video, the German online typing instructions, commands, pleas.  I love this guy, despite knowing absolutely nothing definitive about him other than that he speaks German.  But as is so often the case, the element that catches me by surprise in its provocativeness for me is Wimpy Boy.  He may be a Wimpy Boy (I’m beginning to suspect he’s definitely not), but he’s definitely a stud who persistently catches my eye and turns me on.  30 seconds left in the video, he’s watching up close as SMG spits on his arms again.  One last time, the German pleads for him to open wide and taste his god.  SMG backs up, shoving that gorgeous bulge into his face, and playfully asks if Wimpy Boy is ready to take the next step.  “Wanna lick!?” SMG probes.  Determined, with a defiant grin on this face, Wimpy Boy adamantly and immediately states, “No.”  SMG laughs again.  “Train him, bit by bit,” SMG promises.  “He… will… do it!”

“Wanna lick?!”

Let’s keep working on him, SMG.  I predict you can wear him down into total submission, or you possibly could awaken a surprisingly fierce twink badass.  Either way works for me.

“Train him, bit by bit.”

Oh, and two words: baby oil.
Oh, and three more words: wear your glasses.

On the Third Day of Christmas, Santa Brought to Me…

Just how good is this big, bearded bear-daddy in a red suit who promises me treats for being his good boy?  On the first day of Christmas, Santa brought me a truly jaw dropping wish come true in the form of an entire photo shoot of Kid Karisma’s glorious glutes shot especially for me!  On the second day of Christmas, Santa brought me another wish come true: Ben Monaco’s furry pecs flexed specifically to warm me up this festive season!  Okay, so I’m not ashamed to admit I high-tailed it downstairs to check under my tree this morning to see if the old elf was still checking my fondest fantasies off of my wish list.  Holy hell, yes indeed!  Another shot of ecstasy was waiting for me there pulled straight off the list I whispered in Santa’s ear as the horny bear-daddy popped wood with me on his lap.
“On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought to me…”
My friends, Santa’s got reach, because wrapped up with a bow under my tree this morning was a slice of heaven itself from Eastern Europe.  On the third day of Christmas, Santa brought to me not just a photo feature, but a whole profoundly arousing series of pics of knee-bucklingly sexy legs sent to me personally from recurring wrestling fantasyman and divinely sculpted muscle worship object of lust, Steel Muscle God!
SMG’s tree trunks encased in spandex… never has so little visible skin topped me off so satisfyingly!

SMG has been pounding the hell out of his legs lately, and watching their mass and definition grow steadily has made these beauties stars of my wet dreams lately!
These steel muscles wrapped around a wrestling opponent are erotic wrestling perfection!
Heads, torsos, stray limbs of any sort… there’s nothing that won’t instantly make me hard once it’s trapped in this divine steel trap.

Just a little fur and mountains of layered quad muscles make these legs one of the sweetest Christmas gifts I’ve ever received.  Santa, you’re an angel, and SMG, you are an infinitely generous muscle god!

As the World Watches

I actually wasn’t going to post today, but a very sweet, direct appeal from a reader for something to divert his attention from election day anxiety convinced me otherwise.  I’m not sure what topic is appropriate for a day like today, as Americans go to the polls to cast votes with such big potential to impact people around the world.  We have way too much influence on the well-being of people worldwide, those of us who live and vote in the US.  So many people may prosper or suffer based on the (let’s face it) fickle and often superficial election choices of Americans.  So today, I honor those who have to sit on the sidelines and watch the wingnuttery of American politics play out yet again, just hoping that those crazy Americans won’t elect a(nother) nutjob who will start yet another war of expedience, exploit more of the earth’s resources while ignoring the impact of our exploitation on the global climate, or arm more wingnuts worldwide to fight wars of ideology that ultimate do nothing but increase overall human suffering.  So here are a few of the fantasy men I lust after who today, as far as I know, don’t get to vote in the 2012 US election…

Even armored in newly minted, mouthwatering muscle, high impact x-wrestler Gabriel Ross can only sit back and sip his tea, hoping that those crazy Americans get it right.  Then again, Gabriel and his UK buddies have their own political insanity to sort out on their side of the pond…

Monstercocked leatherboy Rob Chandler and dizzyingly handsome x-wrestler Chris Xaos both command my lustful adoration.  These gorgeous, nasty battlers do such things to me! But one thing that they can’t do: cast a vote for the American politicians who will undoubtedly have undue influence over the world economy and their own local well-being in the UK.  Truly, I’m sorry boys.

Ben Monaco and his hot and hairy pecs are Canadian, which is a particularly hard place to be on a day like today, I’d think.  There’s so much American shit that rolls down hill and across our northern border.  Again, Canada’s got their own bizarre politics to cope with, but at least they have universal health care.  And if it’s any consolation, at least Ben and his compatriots will have another 3 years or so before they have to hear completely ignorant and misleading American political ads warning against being “too much like Canada.”

Rio Garza compete for Mexico in fitness competitions, though his livelihoods seem intimately tied to his commercial success in the US.  I can’t imagine what the US campaign season looks like from south of the border.  Even worse than for Ben and the Canadians, Rio and his countrymen can almost certainly count on being continually demonized as the barbarian hordes beating down the gates of America, all of them drug dealers and mafioso murders who want nothing more than to sneak across the border in order to sit in their lazyboys and soak in all the free shit American’s mistakenly think we provide anyone, much less undocumented immigrants.  It’s guaranteed that U.S. policy makers will bat around Mexican interests like a cat with a ball of string, but do Mexicans get to have any voice in directly influencing their overly wealthy cousins to the north? Despite wildly misleading allegations of voter fraud (always implicating Central and South American immigrants), the answer is no.

Vlad Varek is billed a Russian cage fighter who made just one trip to this country to beat the living shit out of a few weak-assed Americans.  True story or promotional gimmick, I can’t actually attest, but if Vlad is indeed from the motherland, he’s also got to be wondering just how much more saber rattling American politics will get based on who we elect today.  The right wingers in this country still try to dabble in resurrecting Cold War terrors to motivate the electorate, and let’s face it, Russians have more than their fair share of both widespread corruption and undue influence over their neighbors, near and far.  But whether the US will keep trying to put the boogeyman mask on them or, conceivably, deploy actual diplomacy that doesn’t come at the point of our over-estimated sword, Vlad and his peeps can only wonder.

I’ve got a crrrrazy infatuation building for the particular combo of Dan the Steel Muscle God and the return of his plaything, Wimpy Boy.  These Hungarian beauties have managed to reach halfway across the globe and grab me by the balls with the intoxicating chemistry that they’ve got going.  I sweat to god, I’d do a lot of things for the chance to get my hands on SMG, but I’d give my left kidney to round out the entirely naked threesome with BOTH SMG and Wimpy Boy.  I have no idea what their politics are, but if they know what’s good for them, they’d better be hoping for increased prosperity for their army of gay US fans.  Whether they think that would come from re-electing President Obama or siding with $Romney$ and Ayn Rand budget slasher, it doesn’t really matter, does it?  Because Hungarians don’t get a vote in our crazy hot mess of an election in the US.

I’m sure there are more citizens of the world in our homoerotic wrestling universe, but those are the ones I could come up with on short notice.  Whether this little jaunt across the globe actually serves as a distraction or not from the insanity of election day in the US, I don’t know.  But for those of you like me feeling extremely tense and at least a little nauseated today with worry about the future of the US and our social and civil rights, I encourage you to pop in a homoerotic wrestling tape, lay back, and pound yourself into a stupor until the political ads start to fade.  After you’ve voted, bitches.  But then, let your favorite wrestlers take you far, far away.

Winning the Hard Way

Jake Jenkins is stunning to watch use those muscles to choke out Eli Black

Sometimes I think of myself as a homoerotic wrestling kink therapist.  I often hear from wrestling fans who have questions and problems they want solved with regard to homoerotic wrestling.  “Tell BG East to…” or “Why does Rock Hard Wrestling always…?” And not uncommonly, I get messages from readers who tell me that they “just need to vent.”  For example, a reader and homoerotic wrestling fan recently “vented” to me in an email regarding a recurring frustration.  Like me, he’s a major Jake Jenkins fan. And like me, he enjoys watching Jake kick ass.  So when he sees a lot of JJ’s new releases in which the stud puppy clearly gets squashed, he’s irritated.  This reader knows my recurring answer to these types of questions: tastes vary.  Some of us likely get more kink for the buck to see a hot muscle kid like JJ dominated, while others of us get a harder push over the edge by watching handsome Jake on the conquering in of the equation.  But this reader still questions what makes those on “the other side” tick, and what makes them want to see more and more of JJ getting owned.

Jake goes down in a puddle of sweat beneath a victorious Kid Karisma

This exchange brought to mind a similar brief correspondence I had with a reader several months ago, who asked me to exercise influence over Steel Muscle God to convince him to tape some wrestling action in which the godly one gets dominated.  This is hardly the first time someone has vastly overestimated my influence. And it’s actually not the first time I’ve heard this particular plea.  Personally, I LOVE watching SMG totally use an opponent, particularly one of those hot muscleboys he’s pummeled lately.  There’s an absolutely intoxicating scene in SMG’s recent release of a ring “bout” in which he repeatedly sleepers a hot, hard hunk.  He puts the fiesty stud out flat on this stomach, and I’m 110% on board with the sell that this is an actual choke out.  The hunk goes limp like a noodle.  And when SMG shakes and shoves him and rolls him over, the hottie looks absolutely out cold.  SMG prods and pokes the unresisting hunk, standing over top of him and flexing his guns, leering down into his slack face, until finally after a half a minute or so, the vulnerable hunk of meat comes to.  Fuck me there something so erotic about that little exchange!

Steel Muscle God wreaks divine justice all over another hot muscle buddy

But ripping myself back to my topic for today.  Some readers have repeatedly complained that SMG “always wins.”  Why doesn’t he star in a muscleboy-in-trouble-scenario for those desperately waiting for him to stroke that g-spot where many fans get topped off by the powerful muscle stud shocked, laid out and humiliated?  For the record, SMG has said that he does have a wrestling match in which he “loses,” but I haven’t actually seen it (I think you have to buy it separately from the membership site, and I’m too frugal).  But the issue seems to be repeated from many of my kink therapy clients: “my getting off on a homoerotic wrestling match requires that my primary object of lust win (or lose).”

Brad Rochelle wrote the book in making a muscleboy loser epically homoerotic.

And both of these conversations call to mind still another set of exchanges I’ve had with a long-time commentator and avid student of homoerotic wrestling who more than once has chided me that I’m too focused on who wins and who loses.  What tweaks the subconscious wrestling kink, he argues, is almost entirely unrelated to specifically whose shoulders are pinned to the mat or which hunk sobs, “I give!”  The passion play that homoerotic wrestling presents us is about themes broader than the specific “winner” or “loser,” like broken egos, revenge on bullies, the battle of might versus right, or our personal secret longings to be dominated or to dominate.  And, this commentator has also argued, it’s about much more specific elements than the literal “win” as well, such as the particular sell of suffering, how persuasively we’re sucked into longing to see someone punished, the precise angle at which a wrestler’s lower back is pried backward in a Boston crab that convinces us he’s hurting while simultaneously displaying is gorgeous body and bulging package so tantalizingly.  There’s definitely the school of thought that literal “winning” and “losing” is almost entirely beside the point.

Brad Rochelle also looks GORGEOUS milking victory out of Patrick Donovan’s withering body!

I’ve pushed back against that hard line.  I think the drama of coming out on top is very central to what strokes my homoerotic wrestling kink.  The notion of two powerful men, both fully expecting to be top-stud as they climb into the ring is precisely the tension that thrills me.  One of them will end up defeated, knocked down a peg, put in his place, while the other will stride out of the ring victorious, top dog, in control.  Turn this into a non-competitive, everybody wins, nobody loses, passionless dance of pretty bodies, and I might as well be watching a yoga class, which even when the bodies are smoking hot, it’ll never do for me what a hot wrestling match does.

Pectacular Patrick Donovan also looks dizzyingly hot slapping down a humiliating victory all over Z-Man’s  beautifully vulnerable muscle-bod.

And then there’s one last mental association I’m having with all of this talk of winners and losers. At the BGE Headquarters discussion group, someone who has frequently commented on this blog wrote a seemingly straightforward opinion, suggesting that he’d prefer the initial photo galleries in the membership site of BGE not “give away” which wrestler wins and which one loses.  He suggested that he’d prefer to maintain the suspense, particularly for those matches that he’s planning on purchasing.  Give him enough time to get the new release shipped to him before revealing who ends up top dog.

Z-Man can also delight in victory as he rips apart loser muscle boy Brody Hancock

Personally, I think this sounds entirely reasonable and well-reasoned.  However, another commentator left a bizarrely mismatched diatribe mocking anyone who could “believe these matches aren’t fake.” This commentator prejudices his own oddly aggressive response by tying them to appalling politics, but my point is actually not his apparent political self-hatred.  My point is really that he misses the point entirely.  The point is not how choreographed wrestling-for-pay may be in any given example.  The question of wanting to milk the suspense of not knowing who wins is wholly unrelated to whether the wrestlers or promoters are staging the matches as melodramas rather than as Olympic sport.  It seems to me that the investment many of us have in winners or losers in homoerotic wrestling is entirely about how wrestling speaks directly to our erotic fantasies, not some “objective” evaluation of who, in a fair fight, would kick whose ass.

Babyface Brody Hancock also make victory look so, so sexual when he puts magically nippled muscle hunk Cody Nelson on his back for good.

Suspense, anticipation, the establishment of tension in the plot, the development of compelling characters who establish motivation and commit to their particular roles… these are essential elements of satisfying homoerotic wrestling as far as I’m concerned.  However much a pretense it appears in any given match, the context of combat is a core component of what turns me on and tops me off as a homoerotic wrestling fan.  It isn’t so much who would win in an actual barroom brawl (not at all, really), but who tells a provocative story about passion and heat, power and strength, skill and strategy, muscle and beauty, and, without a doubt, winning and losing.

Sweat soaked and savoring victory, Cody Nelson titillates musclebully fans when he crushes handsome, lanky, lovely Christian Taylor aka Chris Cox.

So why do some JJ fans never seem to get tired of seeing him humiliated and defeated?  Why are others desperate to watch him use those gorgeous muscles of his to pick apart and make another hunk his bitch?  How are some fans filled up on a steady diet of SteelMuscleGod owning one opponent after another, while others are insanely aching to see SMG crushed and dominated?  I think this state of affairs is simply the landscape in which we live as homoerotic wrestling fans.  Our fantasies vary, even as we share a common passion for the eroticism of wrestling drama. It seems clear to me that winning and losing is far from beside the point, and who wins and who loses is directly and intimately tied to what strokes many of us hardest.  It’s not that we’re naively buying into the competitive pretense of wrestling-for-pay. I for one love watching Olympic wrestling, but the hottest amateur match is only a fraction as sexy as even the average homoerotic wrestling product as far as I’m concerned.  Explicitly homoerotic wrestling is much bigger than the raw rules and tests of strength and skill of amateurs, and more importantly, the point is entirely different.  The point of amateur wrestling is entirely winning and losing.  But the point of homoerotic wrestling is to get you and me off, and while it’s not the whole story, the drama of winning and losing is one of the elements that makes wrestling the kink that defines me (and many of you!).

For my tastes, Christian never looked hotter than when he brutalized his lover and rumored-to-be tag team partner Skip Vance, tying together homo, erotic, and wrestling in as beautiful a bow as any victory ever has!

Dinner Date Chosen

Cam’s the dinner date of choice!
The commanding winner in the reader’s choice poll to determine which homoerotic wrestler readers would most want to have visit their homes for dinner was none other than wrestling hunk extraordinaire Cameron Mathews.  He crossed the finish line with 36% of the vote, which is a decisive testimony to the loyal fans he’s earned from working that gorgeous bubble butt of his off from coast to coast and production to production over the past decade.  He held steady at or around 50% of the vote through most of the two days that the poll was open, in fact, looking like he was going to blow away his next closest competition by more than double.  However, just this morning, with mere hours left to vote, shit got interesting!
Skip convinces Christian that he’ll show up for dinner with a fan too!
That’s when fierce little scrapper Skip Vance put out a message on Facebook lobbying his fans to mount a come from behind maneuver on Cam (and who among us haven’t fantasized about a come from behind maneuver on Cam!?).  Skip offered one fan selected at random to be treated to a dinner made by his own hands if he ends up on top of the polls once all is said and done.  He instantly got a bump, pulling ahead of Kid Karisma for second place.  When Skip added that both he and former homoerotic wrestler of the month and Skip’s lover, Christian Taylor, would sit down to said dinner with the randomly selected fan, the sprint to the finish line was on! He began to close the distance with Cam at such a pace that I was seriously beginning to suspect a photo finish.  While Cam limped across the line with the decisive victory, nobody was stronger around the last turn than hot and eager Skip! As to whether he’ll still auction off a dinner date, we’ll have to wait and see.

Kid Karisma can’t believe you left him in 3rd place!
Third place winner and party-boy muscle stud Kid Karisma has got to be scratching his head right about now wondering how he not only got outpaced by Cam but blown-by flat footed by late bloomer Skip! Somehow, I’m guessing with his life-of-the-party karisma and astonishingly sexy body (look… at… that… ASS!!!), Kid K has never been short of dinner invitations. If he’s ever in need of a hot meal and adoring company, he’s got a place at my table anytime.  As for restraining myself from putting my hands on those glutes, no promises, Kid K.
Dinner? Steel Muscle God Dan may be too busy being worshipped!
Not surprisingly, Steel Muscle God Dan had a very solid showing in the poll. It’s not surprising because if you spend any time at all at, you pick up on the fact very quickly that Dan’s got a worldwide following of extremely rabid fans who are very, very loyal to SMG.  If he’d put out the call to his worshippers to really mobilize the vote, I strongly suspect he’d have put some hurt on even Cam.  I’m not too worried that SMG’s ego will take a hit for not winning the reader’s choice poll here. He’s got muscles of steel, for god’s sake, and the self-confidence to strip naked and demand to be worshipped.  However, if he’s ever in the neighborhood and feeling peckish, he can take solace in the fact that I’ll be more than happy to set another place at the table.
“A Fabulous Dinner Date!”
Through back channels I was delighted to hear that Lon Dumont had an opinion on the matter.  His opinion was, of course, that he’d make a “fabulous dinner date!”  He also mentioned that since he’s been dieting like a fiend in preparation for the bodybuilding season about to commence any minute, he could seriously put 2nds and 3rds away right now, so plan ahead if you invite him to dinner. Lon knows that he has a standing invitation to my table, and I’m also ever ready to apply his instant tan all over every inch of his body before any and every competition (which wasn’t up for consideration in the poll, but I just wanted to make that point clear).
Not everyone could handle an evening with Eli Black
I’m guessing Eli Black knows full well why he didn’t win.  You were too fucking scared of him! Truth be told, despite his expansive ego and fiercely competitive spirit when it comes to absolutely everything, I just bet that the Shutdown would completely charm the pants off you if you had him over for dinner.  Of course, the poll wasn’t about who you’re ready to take your pants off for, but even keeping my pants on, I’d be delighted and honored to pass Eli the mashed potatoes.
Darius “BMG” is looking for a taste of SMG!
Darius had a solid showing in the poll, reflecting what I happen to know is a loyal base of fans who’ve been wanting to see more of this Black Muscle God – more screen time and more skin! Darius let it be known that he doled out his vote for Steel Muscle God, because despite SMG being a no-show to face Darius stateside, Darius still has his sights set on an epic showdown between the Steel Muscle God and the Black Muscle God. Fuck the poll! I’ll push my furniture to the walls to watch that battle of the gods live!
Is that Chris Isaak? No, it’s hot jobber Ken Canada!
Long-time friend and contributor to this blog, Stay Puft, let it be known that he simply had to register his vote for energizer bunny and possessor of endless hotness and stories of hotness, Ken Canada. He never picked up traction in the polling, but I have to agree with S.P. when he points out that Ken’s sense of humor and enthusiastic understanding of the eroticism of wrestling would make him a truly entertaining dinner date!
Cage Thunder is busy serving up some meat of his own
I happen to know that Cage Thunder registered his vote in the poll for Lon. Get those two bull dozers on the same page and I can’t imagine what tag team would dare step foot in the ring with them.  But around the dinner table, I can’t help but figure that meal would go into the wee hours of the morning as these two profoundly reflective men trade wit and wisdom from never-ending reserves.  Personally, I’m a little astonished Cage Thunder didn’t show better in the polling, and I have to chalk it up to Eli’s theory that there were just a whole lot of you too damn frightened to sit across the table from him.  Not me.  He’s got a standing invitation at chez Bard.

Don’t bother Ben with dinner invitations.  He’s building a wrestling career, people!
The rookie sensation with magical lips, Ben Monaco never managed to build a head of steam in voting.   Big Ben is brand spanking new to the industry, of course, so pitting him against absolute fixtures in homoerotic wrestling like Cameron Mathews was always going to be an uphill battle for him.  My educated guess is that Ben isn’t surprised at all that he wasn’t the top vote-getter, and if anything he’s just that much more eager to plant his hot ass on another opponent’s face and absolutely make you forget all about the rest for a moment and marvel at him as he tests what he’s got against the best at BGE.  Ben knows he’s just at the beginning of an incredibly sexy, demanding journey into our hearts, but as for me I’ve got a casserole and a bottle of wine just waiting for him.