I was holding vigil all weekend in anticipation of the arrival of summer. It still hasn't arrived, as evidenced by my pasty white skin and layers of clothes, but the hot morning weatherman on my local television news station promises me that I'll be in short sleeves tomorrow, just in time for the solstice.
So there's no quiz for you this week. Considering school's out and the grads are still hung over, I figure you deserve a break from test-taking. I've also been abundantly distracted by my first taste of the juicy new releases from BG East. I've been trying to pace myself and drink plenty of fluids, but one moment in Fantasymen 33: Muscle Pros keeps grabbing my attention. At one key point in the development of the match, Z-Man is appropriately taking a well-earned, nasty beating from Kid Karisma. They've both given and taken their fair share of pounding, but now Kid K has beaten the mocha-skinned muscle model into submission, and then added a gratuitous ball claw on the pretty boy just to seal the deal. Z-Man is finally writhing on his stomach on the canvas, clutching his balls in agony, when Kid K bends over (just linger on those last 4 words a while.... okay, now continue), grabs Z-Man's pink trunks, and wedgies them high up his ass.
So a couple things speak to me here that probably don't need mentioning (but that's what I do around here, isn't it? I mention everything I think). Z-Man's bare ass is beautiful. A work of art. I'd go so far as to say his ass is even pretty, and I mean that with all due respect. I'd frame those golden glutes and hang them on a wall. Yanking the fabric away to give a less-obstructed view is nothing but an act of politeness from Kid K to you and me, as far as I'm concerned. Sure, it seems to dial up the agony in Z-Man, but seriously, that wedgie is a thoughtful gift from Kid K to us. "Take a look boys," Kid K could have just as easily said out loud. As Kid K himself remarked earlier in the match, examining Z-Man's vulnerable ass in a compromised moment, "Oh yeah, definitely very, very pretty!"
But then Z-Man does the unforgivable (as far as I'm concerned). As soon as he catches his breath, he quickly reaches behind him and digs the pink fabric out of his crack, re-covering those dessert-like cheeks. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you, I yelled at the screen the first time I saw this. That punk-ass bastard (said lovingly)! When the trunks get wedgied, ripped, yanked or stripped, in homoerotic wrestling they need to stay that way. Screw your decency and sense of humility or dignity, Z-Man! Those went out the door well before you were screaming like a baby, trapped in the ropes, with Kid K's claw crushing your testicles from behind. When your ass gets displayed by someone as generous and thoughtful as Kid K, you should just take it like the babyface muscle model rookie that you are (at least in these parts).
Before anyone gets the wrong idea (though I have no control over that, I'm reminded often), let me clarify that I love this match. I love Z-Man in this match. I LOVE Kid Karisma in this match. I can't quite make it 10 minutes into this match before a dramatic cardiovascular event happens within me. It's not that I actually don't like Z-Man or his work here. I just feel like there should be some policy that says that homoerotic wrestlers that lose full coverage of their gear should have to just grin and bear it. There's sort of a justice about it. Once the skin is exposed, it should have to stay that way. Any homoerotic wrestler who readjusts his gear to cover back up should merit a merciless and humiliating beating and the penalty of losing ALL his gear before all is said and done.
This brings to mind (in my constant stream of consciousness sort of way), Christopher Bruce's "comeback" against Cole Cassidy in Demolition 10. Cole applies perhaps the nastiest wedgie I've ever seen as a defensive maneuver when he's trapped in Christopher's crushing bearhug. Unlike Z-Man, however, Christopher shows the instincts of a veteran. He and Cole deliver precisely what it is I'm tuning in to see here. He just keeps right on wrestling, his gorgeous bubble butt bouncing beautifully unencumbered by his trunks. I'm sure it wasn't comfortable, but Christopher didn't climb into that ring to be comfortable. He climbed in there to deliver what you and I pay for!
Naked Kombat's recent match illustrated that Phenix Saint has the same veteran instincts. I'm pretty sure that NK instructs the wrestlers to leave the gear wherever the action takes it. But some can't help themselves but tug the trunks back up, as if that was going to mean anything in round 3 and 4. But I enjoy watching Phenix completely un-selfconcious as he soldiers on after rookie farmboy Blake has yanked his red trunks three-quarters of the way down his ass. The trunks and the exposure clearly mean nothing to Phenix, and yet they mean so much to me. So his single-minded focus in ignoring his ass hanging out makes me root for Phenix that much harder.
And speaking of hard, and just to complete this stream of consciousness ranting, this makes me think of the truly remarkable rookie debut four months ago of seriously entertaining grappler, Adonis, running circles around Gianni Luca and tying the Italian up in knots. NK gives points for getting your opponent's gear off of him. They get special points in round 2 when they can yank their opponent's jockstraps over their heads, as opposed to just ripping them off. Adonis illustrates his tenacity and determination by working the "over-the-head" points in round 1, when Gianni is still in his speedo-style trunks. Cranking on Gianni's skimpy red trunks like there's no tomorrow, Adonis rips the crotch out of them and slowly manages to stretch them up and over the Italian jobber's head and eventually entirely off his body. Not only is this a feat, in and of itself (buy a pair of speedos and just try this!), Adonis doesn't skip even a beat as he performs this maneuver while simultaneously maintaining complete control of Gianni in one completely dominating, crushing, humiliating hold after another. We need to see Adonis and his gorgeous tool in action again!
I'm not entirely sure I'm finishing this post in the same spot where I started it, but let me just conclude by saying this is what gear is meant for in homoerotic wrestling: getting removed. Whether it's in the form of a vicious wedgie that reveals the gorgeous glutes beneath, or if it's in the form of ripping the extraneous garment off entirely, gear inevitably stands between me and the next level of homoerotic pleasure. While it's certainly true that I can be entertained with hot wrestling involving all gear staying firmly in place from start to finish, if there are any wardrobe malfunctions (and especially the intentional ones), it ought-a be a law! Leave gear where ever the action takes it, especially if that's stretched so high up Z-Man's ass crack that it makes the muscleboy gag!