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.