Thursday, February 26, 2015


Effective March 23rd, Blogger is stepping up its censorship* of "blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video." No mention of sexually explicit sentences or photos of boners stretching wrestling trunks, so perhaps this blog does not actually cross the vaguely defined line, but I am taking the recent announcement as the writing on the wall for Ringside at Skull Island. Very soon I will be discontinuing regular posts to this blog. On or around March 23rd, I will shut the blog down completely.

This is my decision. Blogger provides the option of voluntarily turning the blog private, allowing entry to only specifically named visitors whose email addresses I would have to record one at a time, but since this blog is viewed by thousands of individual readers a day from around the world (I have been very grateful for the attention too), I can't see me being ambitious or attentive enough to keep up such an effort. The other option, to self-censor potentially offensive material is too depressing to consider, since, let's face it, pretty much everything is potentially offensive to somebody.

I'm pretty well blogged out anyway. I still have the kink, mind you, just no drive to write about it any more. I'm repeating myself and have been for a couple of years. I've even written this good-bye before. That said, I thank all the readers, visitors, commenters, wrestlers, promoters, photographers, and fellow fantasists who have supported Ringside over the past six years (plus a few months in change). It's been rewarding hearing from you, in some few cases meeting you, and in other cases working with you. There are still plenty of other sources of opinion and reverie on the homoeroticism of wrestling in all its varieties. Great ones. This one, however, is about tuckered out.

*NOTE: Google reversed its decision on Friday, February 27th. Good news. I will still be closing the blog on or around Monday, March 23rd.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Best of Three

In their fourth showdown (their third in the past year), Krush and Johnny O fight a two-out-of-three-submissions contest. Technically the match is a showcase for Krushco's new style: high key natural lighting, a camera that moves with the action, sharp hi-res video, and professional-strength graphics. Scrap-wise, this is one of Krush's most dynamic and dramatically intense battles. Johnny O is physically Krush's best match as an opponent, and he expresses more "character" than most previous adversaries--and doesn't mind playing the bad guy when he's cornered.

The match goes for three falls, which means that the last seven minutes is amazingly robust and aggressive. There's no disqualification, draw, or loose ends. Both are totally exhausted at the end of the 18-minute ordeal. Both wrestlers can be sore losers, adding fuel to the fire as the two struggle to break the climactic tie. Krush may have been way too much for Johnny when they first clashed almost four years ago, but things are different now: Johnny's wised up, manned up, revved up. For once it's Krush we're worried about--though, to be honest, Johnny is not putting out anything that Krush can't handle.

Lots o' punches, chokes, scissors, tendon-busters, and grunts. This one is classic 40-carat Krush.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015


Well-scrubbed and clean-cut heartthrob Kip Sabian (formerly "Sabin"), 5'9", 172#, goes after snobby blue-blood Richard Parliament, 5'9", 182#,  in this match (see screen grabs below) from Falling Starr Wrestling last October. Both are irresistibly lovable in their own ways. I'm drawn to Kip's bouncy pugnacity, but also have a warm spot for Parliament's desperate egoism and clownish bid for the fans' adoration. The camera seems to be in the wrong place for the best moments of a too-short contest, but there's no getting past the energy the two wrestlers spark in each other. No surprises here. The match is textbook babyface versus heel, as slight yet reliable as an after-dinner mint. Worth enjoying for what it is. 

Monday, February 23, 2015


I think of Kid Vicious, in all his later work, as a performance artist whose art consists of digging into rather important, though typically taken-for-granted questions, such as
  • What is and is not sex?
  • Is love a power, a survival instinct, or a romantic sentiment?
  • What does it mean to be a man? or, for that matter, a human being?
Words and logic are inadequate in conveying these kinds of truth. Perhaps such questions have no answers beyond personal experience. I am talking about the notion of eros (particularly m4m eros), the idea that erotism involves power, submission, creativity, nature, instinct, friction, frenzy, and the abhorrence (but not fear) of death. This notion originally shaped Western civilization, by way of the ancient Greeks who viewed Eros (lust) as a life force in constant opposition to Thanatos (death).

Instead of words, Vicious and his cohorts use partly choreographed gestures and emblematic props (including their own bodies) to explore and dramatize the dynamic interactions between men, in a word, "ritual," perhaps a ritual that's at the extreme of "male bonding." Wrestling, likely the first game in human history, has its roots in pagan ritual. Brutal and high risk, wrestling was originally about hierarchy, patriarchy, heroism, and justice, attributes of the god Zeus. Greek religion begins with a wrestling match between Zeus and his father, the Titan Cronus. Wrestling was later refined in the ancient Greek gymnasium, a facility for combat training, in the nude, also used for socializing, cruising, and the debating of new ideas (all considered manly, back in the day).

Wrestle X (BG East, 2005) begins with a closeup of Rick Hunter's boner vividly outlined against his pink and black bicycle shorts. He is stretching his limbs in a motel room, ostensibly to loosen up for the upcoming fight, but also doing everything in his power to keep himself firm and erect. Vicious enters, mutters, "What have we here?" and strips off his black shirt. Without prelude or fanfare, Vicious throws Rick down on the mattress and applies a series of wrestling holds, sexy ones that maximize body contact: body scissors, thigh stretches, face locks, full nelsons--forcibly applied as Vicious controls the jobber by chicken-winging the right arm. Rick's moans are as ecstatic as they are agonized. KV mixes wet lip-locks and crotch-fondling with the wrestling moves and calls for the boy to submit, to which Rick responds, when he's good and ready, "Yes, sir."

After a number of submissions, already too many to count (as if I would even think to count), Hunter dares to fight back, wrapping his legs around Vicious's waist and squeezing tight. The gesture is feeble, intentionally so, a sign of the boy's swooning weakness, overcome with lust. The attack barely fazes Kid Vicious, who snarls "you fucking bitch" before landing a series of forearm chops to the jobber's smooth chest. KV lifts Rick off the mattress, daring him to "give it your best shot," before dropping himself on top of the boy, landing (no accident) in the missionary position. Pelvic thrusting ensues and more juicy kisses, just in case the viewers have forgotten that this is something more than an athletic contest.

Hunter's mouth tries to envelop the nightstick now stretching the front of Vicious's yellow trunks. "You think you've earned that, do you?" Hunter says yes, but Vicious doesn't buy it. He teasingly pushes Rick's head away and traps him in a reverse bear hug, forearms to the ribs, cock to the butt, as he backs to the wall. Hunter squirms like a worm on a hook. Released, he drops on his back and Vicious rests the sole of his boot on his cock--a sign of absolute mastery as easy to read as a boot on the head or the heart. He pulls Hunter up to his knees, face to Vicious's crotch, both arms cinched behind him. Rick's mouth lunges for the bulge again, but Vicious tantalizes him, keeping the rookie's face a few unbridgeable inches from the goal.

Later, Hunter submits as Kid Vicious bends him backwards in a Boston crab hold. The heel releases only one of the legs, using his free hand to grope between the jobber's thighs. Touch signifies authority and command. In undemocratic times, underlings could not touch (often, could not even gaze upon) their superiors, though respected superiors could touch them freely--a friendly hand upon the shoulder or, despicably, rape. It's worth noting that this passionate game is BY NO MEANS a so-called "rape fantasy." Hunter is vocally consenting every step of the way, even pushing for more body contact than Vicious will condescend to give ... not just yet anyway.

Vicious peels off Rick's shorts but lets the purple briefs remain (for now). The deepening of color from pink to dark purple signifies a surrender to darker, more primal urges. He grips and massages the jobber's cock, pulling it up over the waistband, while resting his own crotch on Rick's mouth, which meditatively laps at the lycra covering the master's balls. Vicious's cock remains covered as he strokes it over the boy's face. After the jobber says "I submit" enough times, KV pulls his cock out and feeds it to the boy. Meanwhile, the master heel clenches his fist and studies his biceps, as if disinterested in the rookie's insatiable lust. 

We are a third of the way into this feature-length "match" when Vicious puts on a leather glove. He announces the glove, the way a physician tells the patient what is about to happen next, or the way a narrator leads the reader to the next scene.  KV punches the rookie on the navel as the brimming boner wobbles just out of striking distance. "You're in trouble, boy," Vicious murmurs, "big ... fucking ... trouble." Hunter breathes a deep sigh that seems to rise up from his nuts. Vicious backs the jobber to the wall, holding his fist to the kid's jaw as he kisses him wetly. He holds the cock with his bare hand, protectively, as his gloved fist slams the abs. Then the glove covers Rick's mouth as if to silence the boy's screams. Vicious kisses the back of his own hand, and, presumably, Hunter licks its palm. Vicious lays Hunter back on the mattress, straddling his neck. "Yeah," he coos. "That's what you want, boy. You know what's good for you. I could have knocked you out an hour ago, but instead I took you for a ride, yeaah." Sure, this is smut talk, but what's amazing is how classy and passionate KV makes it sound.

So far most of the sexual pleasures have been oral (and manual). Halfway through, though, Vicious mounts the rookie from behind, his cock pressing the seat of the boy's purple briefs, a ritualized dry hump thinly disguised as wrestling at this point. Though the motions of combat persist to the end, the fight is over. The victor of this match has already been identified. Every sexual advance from now on is stylized as a coercion of the (voluntarily) disempowered by the super-empowered master, who wants to give pleasure no less than to receive it.

Only in the final act are the wrestlers stripped entirely bare, the jobber first, of course, forcibly by the heel, who states literally, without exaggeration, unlike in pro wrestling, "Your ass is mine." The gloved hand applies the iron claw hold to Hunter's face as the jobber falls in slow motion to the mattress. The two veiny cocks coast against each other, thrusting together like the horns of rutting rams. Kid Vicious commands the boy to undress him, which the boy does willingly, sliding KV's yellow trunks down thighs, knees, calves, pausing briefly to stroke his cock against the side of the master's boot.

The buttfucking, when it happens, is surprisingly tender and sweet, in contrast to the practiced tone of menace up to this point. For gay men, the tenderness of a buttfuck is no surprise. Porn tends to depict the act more aggressively and noisily. I like the slappy, punishing fuck as much as anybody. Perhaps this is the way some porn stars signify their macho virility. But after an hour of sweaty wrestling, Kid Vicious has nothing left to prove. He slides into the boy the way he previously slid into his leather glove, confidently and a little in awe of the power he wields. He is the conqueror and a life force. He is taking a prize not only that he has justly won but also that Hunter willingly surrenders to him.

Sunday, February 22, 2015


Setting a goal for 40 new and original matches in 2015, Movimus has not only sped up its output of no-holds-barred submission matches but also introduced exciting new talent. This weekend Salvatore Landow, 5'3", 153#, hit the mat against Dave Markus, 5'9", 172#, already, after seven months and eight matches, the company's star attraction. Movimus must also keep him busy scouting for new wrestlers, as he hauled in its latest recruits, Landow and (last weekend) Julio Vargas.

Given Markus's rep for wiping the floor with his opponents, Salvatore better have more than a pretty face and a hot body. He does. With high-school wrestling experience in his pocket and sharknado speed on the mat, Sal is two handfuls for Dave, who no sooner muscles his way out of one hold than Landow snares him in another. Reportedly, little Salvatore demanded this match, so the new guy also has balls the size of melons going in his favor. 

As expected, Dave takes command from the start but soon finds Salvatore's low center of gravity a major obstacle. Landow gives him almost nothing to hang on to, and when he's on his feet, the newcomer swoops in from below and topples him, clasping his long limbs like a wheel clamp. Still, experience and conditioning count for a lot, and Dave claims the first fall with his infamously cutting body scissors, to which Salvatore submits in less than a second. Also, Marcus is a severe challenge to most wrestlers' endurance, sticking on his opponent and letting the guy wear himself weak in the long struggle to escape.

It's great to see two fighters this in-touch with their strengths employ them with such apparent ease and grace. Movimus did itself and us fans a great service with the hiring of Markus, a capable submission wrestler with star appeal and a magnet for other promising talents too. Tense, close matches like this one are the keystone to the company's future and the reason my interest in Movimus continues to rise. 

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Rough & Ready 58

While I was drafting the interview with Marco (earlier this week, but posted yesterday), Thunders Arena's Rough & Ready 58 arrived in my mailbox. This is the match squaring Marco against Frey which Marco alluded to in response to one of my questions. I finished editing the interview before watching it. And is it ever something to behold! Frey wraps a napping Marco in plastic wrap, a practical joke, not so different from other hijinks we have witnessed at Thunders over the years. Marco wakes up and doesn't find the joke funny at all. He tears himself loose and then tears into Frey, torpedoing him on the Arena's cushy sofa (the one that often has a wrestling mat conveniently close by). Frey and Marco go at it nonstop for about fifteen minutes, Marco displaying more power than you might expect and Frey cutting corners to win at all costs.

Marco told me, "I got a part of me that really gets off on controlling and dominating a bigger dude. I got respect for them, but I am all about making a bigger dude my bitch." That part of Marco is on full display in this impromptu contest. The action keeps one foot in the Arena's trademark light-and-breezy fun and games and the other in something darker, more intense, primal. For instance, Frey's low-blow assault comes as a shock, somehow much more violent than the same move we've seen thousands of times before. Maybe it has something to do with the way Marco sells it. He brings a visceral rawness and edge to the mat I have not seen at Thunders Arena before. There's plenty more heat here than I'm accustomed to seeing at this company (or most other places).

Frey and Marco have incredible chemistry and topnotch mat skills. R&R58's standout moments are many, one right after the other. One of my favorites is Frey tugging off Marco's shorts to reveal an almost-not-there bikini that clings to Marco's hips like a fresh coat of paint. The forcible striptease is one thing, but the way Marco fills out his minimalist gear is mouthwatering. There's also a smoldering schoolboy pin, which sees Marco pressing his crotch down on Frey's, knees clamped to Frey's waist, while pushing his face in tight to ensure that Frey knows who is owning his ass. Supercharged moments like this cross the line from frat-boy frolic and horseplay to something gut-level instinctual and savage, without the tawdriness and self-consciousness of porn. Marco's arrival and Big Sexy's departure may mark the start of a new era at Thunders Arena, where the spirit of Fight Club takes a bite out of the Animal House antics of previous years.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Expect the Unexpected: An Interview with Marco at Thunders Arena

A month ago, Mister Mike asked me which Thunders Arena wrestler I would most like to interview. This was probably a consolation prize for my voluntarily removing posts about Big Sexy, who was kowtowing to WWE's ridiculous concerns about his "dick wrestling" (WWE's choice of words) at the Arena. (Interestingly, Seth Rollins, formerly Tyler Black at Cyberfights, could press his ass up to Marek Brave's dick and roll his eyes ecstatically, apparently without a peep from WWE when he joined the company four or five years ago. I might have thought WWE is taking a step back to the closet, except the Eddy Brock matches at Cyberfights are still up and running.) It probably surprises nobody that I picked Marco to interview. Though relatively new to the company, he has made a gigantic impression on me. Instant rough-trade idolatry. I would list him among the top ten of current online video wrestlers (at the Arena and elsewhere) for whom I would happily adjust my schedule and budget to see more of. His easy blend of extroversion, wrestling prowess, and buff machismo won my heart from the first match I ever saw him in, Battlespace 78, in which Viggo mocked his freshly storebought and unscuffed wrestling shoes, inspiring the rookie to kick the egomaniac's ass. With vigor! Because of Marco's busy schedule lately, the interview was staggered over several sessions. I've taken some liberties with ordering some of the statements, in the interest of narrative flow. I will skip the customary opening pleasantries. 

Joe: How did you get so cocky?

Marco: Wrestling in high school builds a lot of character. I wrestled all four years in high school and had a lot of ups and downs. I was not always this big sexy machine you see before you. I was once the kid that people made fun of because I was too small. Wrestling gave me the confidence to stand up for myself.

Joe: What got you started in wrestling?

Marco: My dad was a wrestler, and my two brothers are wrestlers, so I was born to be a wrestler. I was the state runner-up in high school, but never a state champ. That's what drives me today to be the best.

Joe: And then you went to Thunders Arena?

Marco: I'm good friends with a doctor that is a fan of Thunders Arena, and he recommended I check it out and see if I could audition to join the show. He gave me Mr. Mike's contact information, and I gave him a call. I had to try out for the show, and bam! a star was born!

Joe: A "star," indeed! Do you even realize how hot you are?

Marco: As I said, I was always the smaller kid in school, and I was never in the preppy in-crowd. I went to a very rich school. My dad was a blue-collar worker, so I never had stuff given to me like the other kids. I had to work hard for everything. I pretty much kept to myself and put my nose down and worked hard. I like wrestling because I can get out my aggression and get rid of some of the anger issues I had from being made fun of. I moved after high school. We moved from Pennsylvania to Florida, and that's when I discovered that girls and guys down here like me for me and appreciate the body I've developed. It didn't matter how much money my family had. 

Joe: Any reservations about signing on the dotted line at Thunders Arena?

Marco: I knew it pays really well and that the guys were huge and I would be one of the smaller guys. I was cool with that. I'm working out every day super hard to become a bigger guy. Hopefully I'll be over 200 pounds by summertime. I hope to wrestle in college, so I figured it was a great way to make money after I start going to college.

Joe: Was it difficult adjusting to wrestling in front of a camera?

Marco: You never really notice it until you flip someone INTO it. Then you're like "OH CRAP! I cannot afford that payroll deduction!" [Smiles.]

Joe: [Laughs.] Tell me a little bit about your life at the Arena so far.

Marco: Fun. It is all totally fun! I have to drive three hours one way just to get there. I even went and traded my old car for a new car just so I can make it to the matches with no problem. I love wrestling so much!

Joe: Have you found the fans to be welcoming?

Marco: I haven't really talked to any fans except for the doctor friend of mine, the one who got me into it, and he really loves watching me. 

Joe: Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't heard from more fans by now. But I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to shake your doctor friend's hand for nudging you towards video wrestling.

Marco: Doc is super into it and thinks it's the greatest thing ever. Doc hopes I wrestle Tak soon, which is his favorite wrestler ... besides me [smiling], because Tak is so handsome.

Joe: Tak would make a terrific adversary for you. Definitely. I don't know his actual story, but to me he looks like the preppy type with his nose in the air. I think you might tear him to shreds. Any other butts you intend to kick in the near future?

Marco: I just filmed a match with Frey, and that bastard actually "punked" me. When I was sleeping, taking a nap actually after a hard day of training, that rat bastard wrapped me up in plastic wrap ... and Mr. Mike was in on it, helped him do it! Mr. Mike actually filmed me getting wrapped up! So I busted out and attacked his arrogant ass, and they caught it all on film.  

Joe: That's a fight I need to see. 

Marco: I seriously was pissed!

Joe: Anyone else on your hit list?

Marco: I would have loved a chance to take down Big Sexy. All I've heard since I got here was that I'm the replacement for Big Sexy, but even after meeting him a couple times, I don't think he's all that.

Joe: Oh, really?

Marco: He actually was really rude to me when he came over to visit Mr. Mike. He wouldn't even acknowledge me or say anything because he was too busy talking to Mr. Mike. That makes him a big chump in my eyes, because all wrestlers should show respect to other wrestlers. You could tell by the way he was walking around that he thought his shit didn't stink and that he was "gracing us with his presence."

Joe: Damn. I am sorry to hear that. I always liked him. Perhaps people see you as the new Sexy because, like him, you don't shy away from Thunder Arena's erotic overtones. At times, you seem deliberately sexually provocative. Are you just messing with your opponent's head, or what?

Marco: Yeah, totally--getting them to freak out gives me an edge.

Joe: Is that the secret to taking down and beating a bigger opponent?

Marco: Expect the unexpected with me. I love to humiliate and make fun of their "weaknesses," how they are dressed, or their tattoos. Have you seen my match with Lex? 

Joe: Not yet. I've seen your first three matches and just received four more by mail. No doubt I'll be buying the Lex match too, though.

Marco: That guy is a total train wreck. All those bad tattoos, the fake spray-on tan. It was too easy to make fun of him. What a joke.

Joe: Which is better for you: winning? or hurting your opponent?

Marco: I really always want to win. I have earned it from how hard I work in the gym. I only have one wrestler I really want to hurt: Skyler. He is a total freaking loser. I can't stand that kid. He thinks he is a real wrestler just because he wrestled a little in high school. Did you see his match with Frey?

Joe: I did ... and I blogged about it.

Marco: He totally pissed Frey off because when Frey tried to be nice and let him go ... because Frey was kicking his ass ... Skyler did a cheap shot move and cranked it super hard on Frey to the point that Frey was seriously going to punch Skyler in the face. Then backstage Skyler brags that he is such a great wrestler when we ALL SAW he was a loser cheap-shot artist who just took advantage of another wrestler trying to move the match along. I mean, we all want to win, but you don't get a cash bonus for winning, so why be a dick?

Joe: Okay, Marco, that's another match you have sold me on ... if and when it ever happens between you and Skyler. Just the verbal preview alone ...

Marco: Skyler and I are not friends. I can't stand stupid people who think they are hot shit, and Skyler is totally full of himself. I actually have been BEGGING Mr. Mike to let me hurt him on film. I promise not to send him to the hospital but just want to teach him a lesson. Mr. Mike has not agreed to let us film until I promise not to hurt him, which I won't do, I HATE that kid.

Joe: You're not one to hide your true feelings, are you? [Laughs.] I have a feeling a letter-writing campaign may be in the works soon: fans demanding Marco versus Skyler, no ... holds ... barred. [Laughs.] What do you consider to be your most masculine trait?

Marco: Hello? Have you seen my abs?

Joe: You bet I have, though it's your thighs and iliac furrow that really knock me out. Your most feminine trait?

Marco: I don't have one.

Joe: Hm. What do you think of other combat sports, like boxing and mixed martial arts?

Marco: I actually wish I could get into MMA more. I'm hoping to find a gym this summer where I can learn and start training. But right now my biggest priority is saving up and getting into college in the fall. ... Boxing is actually kind of boring.

Joe: What pushes your buttons? What would an opponent have to do to make you totally lose it?

Marco: Disrespect pushes my buttons the most. Especially if the guy is a loser or a douchebag like some of the guys I've wrestled. Don't talk shit to me unless you can back it up. So far no one has been able to back it up. At least I don't have some bitch ass "button" like Big Sexy.

Joe: What's his button?

Marco: You can't make fun of his small calves, or he goes and cries to Mr. Mike and pouts like a girl. There's even a rumor that the photographer, Rees, made fun of his calves, and Big Sexy refused to talk to him for the rest of the day during a film shoot.

Joe: Don't hold anything anything back, Marco. [Laughs.] I've enjoyed your answers to my questions almost as much as I enjoy your wrestling, which is, let me say again, awesome. You have natural "superstar" qualities. No, seriously, I mean that. You're quick-witted, passionate, good looking, self-confident, aggressive. 

Marco: Awww. Joe, you flatter me. I am just like any other guy. I am nobody special. I just want my opponents to think I am a total jerk so they get angry and frustrated and lose their concentration so I can put them in my signature moves. That's why I go for moves like the schoolboy pin and  humiliate them ... so they get even more frustrated and see red. Then I can get them in my moves and make them scream "I submit." I am not going to lie. I got a part of me that really gets off on controlling and dominating a bigger dude. I got respect for them, but I am all about making a bigger dude my bitch.

Joe: I have noticed you enjoy knocking the big boys down a notch or two.

Marco: I wrestled a friend recently, who is 350 pounds. I got him in a leg scissor hold, and I squeezed so hard that all my chest and arms got crazy super vascular from my flexing my legs so freaking hard. After, we joked that it looked like I was hulking out, but I was going to make him give, even if I had to flex every muscle in my body to win. 

Joe: Okay, seriously, I am a little breathless now. 

Marco: My buddy said it looked so cool. 


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