When I was a kid, I loved muscle magazines.   I also loved Mighty Mouse, Popeye, Superman, Lil Abner, and Steve Reeves.  Later, as a wrestling fan, I saw Tony Atlas as the best of both worlds.

In my adult years I have known a few bodybuilders, not enough to generalize, but enough to know that there is some basis for the terrible stereotypes--musclebound to the point of immobility, witty as cinderblock, tiny weewees--and yet, too, enough to know that, like most stereotypes, the exceptions outnumber the generic types.  Many of these guys look hot even when they are not ripped to 3% body fat.  Some of them can move like lightning.  One or two are as witty as Jon Stewart.  And at least one I've known had a schlong that almost caused me to pass out.

Case in point: Cage, 6'0", 215#, at Thunder's Arena.  Big guy.  Strong.  Sexy.  Funny as hell.  I can't speak to the size of his dick, but then I'm no size queen either.  Now that I have become acquainted with Mr. Mike, head honcho at the Arena (and the original "Thunder"), I have learned that the wrestlers there come up with their own repartee 99% of the time, so Cage's quick and sometimes withering wit must be his own--quipping recently that he is too pretty to get a job at UPS or the US Postal Service, for instance, or slamming Z-Man for being "ugly," dubbing him "Weasel-Man"--deadpan, cracking wise without once cracking a smile--and much funnier the way he delivers it than I can replicate in writing.

Cage is the kind of big lug I like.  Beating up or getting beat up, he does it with style.  And he makes me smile--the way Exavier at BG East does, the way Steve Austin used to, back in his heyday.  Sharp as a tack, bombastically vain, but not really taking himself too seriously--and, most important, a fearless performer on the mats and a taker of all manner of risks.  His just released video Bodybuilder Battle 34, against a very game Z-Man, has made me a huge fan.  


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