Here’s an old-school Shirtless Saturday post. Phil Hickerson is a wrestler I discovered a few years ago thanks to the classic pro-wrestling matches shown on ESPN. I missed out on his younger and furrier persona, so I just knew him as his villainous Japanese counterpart, PY Chu Hi. [KEEP ON WOOFIN’!]
I have reminisced a couple of times about a childhood crush of mine, Bud Spencer, in this blog. Today, I will be talking about another big crush; he is a Filipino actor who typically played the role of a bad guy or — to keep up with the theme of Goonday Moonday — a goon. His name is Bomber Moran and he made me realize just how wonderful the “chubby” physique was, how erotic it was when the chubby man role-played a villainous goon, and how even sexier if his big belly got punched (gut punch, specifically, and all in the name of role-playing, that is).
As a child in the Philippines, I would eagerly watch Bomber Moran in the theaters or rent his movies in Betamax. And when Betamax was replaced by VHS, I continued to rent his movies as well in the ’90s. But it was his ’80s and early ’90s films that made a tremendous impact on me. He was oftentimes this huggable lug of a bad guy that you just can’t help but root for him. But, then again, that was probably just me. I remember my confusion for wanting to hug the big chubby Bomber while at the same time, I ached to see his beautiful belly (I guess you can call it my “shirtless” fetish) as well as hoping to see it get punched. And not just once, but repeatedly.
Bad enough that I was ashamed about my gay feelings, but I was confused and also ashamed for wanting to see such a handsome man get beat up (you guys can read up on my BearBeat fetish as well). But even as a child, I knew that I did not get “excited” when the beatdown was real. It had to be role-played, such as on film/television or on the pro-wrestling ring. Still, to this day, I am very much confused as to why I get aroused by it. I would still search online for “gut punching” (as well as “ball busting”) and would get turned off by big guys really getting their bellies punched for real, to the point that their stunning body temples turned black and red and bruised. Just not erotic at all, in my personal opinion.
Bomber Moran was not a typical Filipino. Most Filipinos are fairly slim and men like Mr. Moran would definitely just stand out for me. As a child, most big men were foreigners, so whenever I would see someone that looked like Bomber in the Philippines, it would be both Christmas and Lent: I would get an awesome Christmas present but I could never open it. I still remember wishing that I had a hidden camera so that I could take a photo of him then store the photos in my scrapbook. Lol. Years later, here I am, blogging about it. It’s really pretty rad when I think about it. Yes. I said “rad.”
Check out the above blurry screenshot. I mean, just look at it. Since I’m assuming that you’re reading this and made it this far, then you know just how marvelous that image is. We all communicate on the same level where we are just completely mesmerized and wowed by such a shot. All of our senses are in complete harmony and disarray while our pupils dilate at something we wish could touch, smell, and even taste.
So, to me, that’s who Bomber Moran was. He passed away in 2004 which makes me reflect on how human life is just a series of repetition which would then recycle again but in various forms via differing generations and idealogies. That image of a Bomber Moran will reappear again somewhere. And the very concept of someone admiring that Bomber Moran will also co-exist somewhere at another time. And, of course, the simple-minded, hating bigots will also be there as well — always ready to criticize our immorality and downright “wrongness.”
How’s that for a sudden change in discussion? Yeah, I’ve been reflecting a lot about my life lately and I really wish that I could just stop with that and just enjoy life for what it is. Unfortunately, I’m just an inactive philosopher… 🙂
Anyway, now on to the great stuff. Here are three Bomber Moran video clips I have uploaded in YouTube:
In this video, Bomber is shirtless as he just got out of the shower. He asks his help (Vic Sotto) to make him some milk. As this was a slapstick comedy, Vic mixes up the liquid make-up with coffee cream. Or something like that. I don’t really know nor care. ^_^ Anyway, so he drinks it and he ends up showing us his marvelous belly.
I have already posted the animated gif of this multiple gut punching scene at the top of this post. Anyway, this is from the same film as above. This time, one of the maids got the best of the Big Bomber as she unleashes a flurry of gut punches on Mr. Moran. I just love the really fake and exaggerated gut punching sounds.
And, finally, this was a video that I’ve been hunting for everywhere. Thank goodness that a fellow Filipino uploaded the whole movie for Kambal Na Kamao. Unfortunately, he/she used a camcorder to video tape the TV, so it’s quite blurry… Anyway, if you watched the original version, the gut punching scene was edited so badly that the “good stuff” was always getting interrupted. Thanks to the robust power of Windows Movie Maker, I was able to stitch Bomber’s gut punching scene with no interruptions. The result? Wow. Just wow. Yes, I’m admiring my own work. Lol. Anyway, it’s just so awesome seeing Bomber get his judogi get slowly stripped away as we see his glorious, sweaty chubby body (yes, I can still see the sweat glisten through the VHS noises). I love to see just how helpless he is as the boxer, Rolando Rohol, does great work with punching Bomber’s belly.
If you can, go ahead and watch the original video. You’ll see how Bomber has the upper hand throughout the first part of the fight. He did a great job selling his bad guy persona. And then, finally, when the payoff finally hit, where he gets his just desserts, it ends up being all so orgasmic. Maybe not to most, but definitely to certain folk just like myself.
Anyway, these are three other Bomber Moran films that I have been desperately searching for. I’m posting it here for that little chance that someone actually knows, or even better, has one or all of these must-have Bomber Moran films…
Chinatown: Sa Kuko Ng Dragon – This was a “Bloodsport” clone and starred Ramon “Bong” Revilla, Jr. (who is a husky bear himself). Bomber shows up in the first scene where he was the first “evil” fighter in the ring. He is shirtless and wearing suspenders that supported a baggy-looking pants. Both of his arms get tied up at one point and the good guy (not sure who it was), punches him repeatedly on the gut then on his family jewels. There is this photo of Professor Toru Tanaka which resembles that scene I’m talking about…
Magbiro Ka Sa Lasing, Huwag Sa Bagong Gising – This was an ’80s comedy that starred Chiquito. Bomber got shirtless in this scene and tries to make advances towards a “hot” lady. The lady then stops his aggressive advances by tickling him. Needless to say, that was pretty hot. Anyway, later in the film, he gets gut punched repeatedly by Chiquito.
I.S.W.A.K. – I am not even sure as to what the exact title is. It’s supposed to be a pun on S.W.A.T. teams. So the title might be “S.W.A.K.” Unfortunately, only the Tagalog-speaking folk would understand the joke by having the “I” before the rest of the acronyms. Anyway, if there’s one video I would love to acquire from this list, this would be it. He is always shirtless on all of his scenes and is only wearing shorts (I think it was jeans). He plays the leader of a terrorist group and he would spend most of his time walking around and taunting the prisoners. I remember how erotic it was to see him practically naked while the hot sun caused his body to glisten in sweat. At one point, Redford White (the hero), finally captures Bomber Moran; and Bomber, for some reason, gets cornered on a big tree while Redford wraps a rope on poor shirtless Bomber. Seriously, I really believe that the director or writer was exactly like me. This movie was a full-blown chubby bear dream come true.
I’m hoping against hope that someone will one day upload those videos somewhere or even sell them. I want many people to know or remember Bomber Moran. Thank you for all of the entertainment, Bomber. Thank you.
[I haven’t written a BearFic in quite a while. So, I decided to randomly mix up a couple of photos I’ve collected from my online journeys as well as photos from Renaissance Faires I had attended and create some semblance of story out of them. Even if my story gets a thumbs down, I hope that I will have made it up by posting these loverly bearish images for your viewing pleasure…]
A Good Bear Is Hard To Find
I’m not quite sure what day it is, nor month, nor even year. All I know is that my head hurts like a mother and I seem to be in some sort of outdoor circus. It’s a lovely day, that’s for sure, where I could taste the hickory flavor of burnt barbecues and get drunk from various mixtures of liquor and beer. More than likely, I’m drunk and I just do not know it.
A stocky and grizzly man stops me in my tracks. “Halt!” he orders, while I stare at his golden brown locks. “Join me in our festivities, young man and aid me in drowning my sorrows over a good cup of mead!”
Sure, why not? I tell myself. I enter his tent and I watch him wrestle with his drunken self as he tries to sit cross-legged on the ground. I assist him as I smell his sweat from wearing such ridiculous clothing that appears to be five layers thick.
“My liege,” (for I’m not quite sure what to call him) “methinks you should rest easy and remove thy pesky robes for it is hot and the tent is oh so cool.” I believe I giggled.
He then falls on his back, spilling his mead all over his robe. In an instant, he begins snoring.
I am tempted to disrobe him as I am painfully curious to see what was hidden beneath that heft.
But I decide against it and remove my shirt instead to clean the beautiful grizzly bear up.
And as I leave the tent and turn around, I see him completely naked and only completely dressed by his natural thick fur. He walks up to me and gently kisses me on my right cheek.
“Thank you,” he says as he slowly disappears within a haze of smoke.
“That’s a bit strange,” I tell myself. “Probably some sort of trick.”
While walking out, a younger man of spectacular girth meets me. “Fancy sparring with me?”
Sure, why not? I tell myself. He gives me a pole with protective foams on both ends. I believe I giggled.
Now, being twice as light as the young bear, I am quicker on my feet. I hit him on his belly multiple times but I do not hit as hard. He realizes this as he yells, “Harder, lad, harder! Hit me with all of your might!”
I listen to him until he falls on his back. The crowd around me screams for blood while the warrior bear lies helpless on the ground.
Again, my sex throbs in pain. How I want to just dominate the large man and tear his costume apart.
But I decide against it and remove my pants so that I, too, am humiliated from the fight.
And as I walk away, equally beaten and shamed, I see him completely naked and only completely dressed by his natural thick fur. He walks up to me and kisses me on my left cheek.
“Thank you,” he says as he slowly disappears within a haze of smoke.
“I must learn that clever trick,” I tell myself.
Shirtless and pantless, I see a husky man entertaining the public with a toy catapult. It costs 1 gold to play but as I have left my pants somewhere, I do not have any funds.
The husky bear calls me and offers that I play the game for free. “There is a catch, though.” he says. “You must completely soak me with these water balloons first. It’s fairly easy as I will be standing about three feet away from you. If you don’t hit me at least once, you will owe me a hundred gold.”
Sure, why not? I tell myself. He gives me 100 water balloons. I believe I giggled.
He then stands approximately three feet away from me as he extends his arms and legs apart. “You may commence.”
I do commence but I do not hit him. Instead, I drench the Gentle Ladies of Camelot, the Mosaic Bards of the Common West, and the Lost Tribes of Myceria.
And as I kneel in front of him to offer my service of servitude for I do not have a single gold, I see him completely naked and only completely dressed by his natural thick fur. He walks up to me and kisses me on my lips.
“Thank you,” he says as he slowly disappears within a haze of smoke.
“This is getting stranger by the minute,” I tell myself.
As I walk through the grassy knolls, a large bald man blocks my way.
“Am I too good for you?” he asks me demandingly.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“See these biceps? Are they not to your liking? See the fur on my chest? Are they not furry enough?”
And the more I look at him as he flexes his muscles, I notice that he resembles the drunken grizzly bear.
My head aches even further so I run away until I can not run any further.
In my way is a mob of large men of varying sizes. One, in particular, catches my eye.
He then sees me as he pushes away through the throng of bearish men.
“Am I too good for you?” he asks me demandingly.
“Are you ashamed of me? Do I frighten you among these other people?”
And the more I look at him, I notice that he resembles the bear warrior.
I refuse to answer his questions so I run away, my head hurting even more.
I then hit a large man who’s purchasing some drinks. I cannot help but stare and admire his beautiful build.
“Why do you resist? Why can’t you accept who you are?”
And the more I look at him, I notice that he resembles the husky bear with the catapult.
With my mind reeling, I run away. I run until the moon is within my view. All I see is darkness except for a small dot of light in the distance.
I walk towards it and see a lone arcade machine where a parody of a large and brutish man stands waiting to be punched in the belly.
I tear up, not knowing why, and proceed to punch it on the belly.
I punch and punch and punch until my fists are red. And I punch some more until I briefly see this image:
* * * * *
“Hey there, wake up.”
I wake up shivering and soaking from sweat. I look around me and it appears that I seem to be in some kind of hospital tent.
“Are you feeling better?” a nurse asks me.
“Yes. Just had the weirdest dream.”
“No stomach pains?”
“Good. Good. Here, drink some water.”
I drink the water and it refreshes me. As my vision clears up, I notice that there are many female nurses in the tent. Many. Way too many.
They are whispering at each other while they stare at me. I only hear bits and pieces, such as “He’ll do” and “I should go first” and “I hope we bear boys.”
I realize what’s going on. What a cruel joke this is. I call my nurse and request for a larger female first.
Also, a blindfold.
Alan Karaev is not only just an intensely handsome big bear of a man, he is also a Russian Sumo Wrestler as well as an MMA Fighter. That massive and bulky physique of his is every musclechub’s sweaty dream come true.
The following photos came from a personal Webshots collection of that lucky lady in the photo.
Alan Karaev’s sumo match
Mr. Karaev is just so wide and massive that his opponents can’t resist attacking him on his unmissable soft spot: his chubby gut.
Musclechub Alan Karaev versus Musclebear Bob Sapp
[Related Posts – Alan Karaev]
[Related Posts – Bob Sapp]
These are just two wonderful black & white photos of one of classic pro-wrestling bearish athletes, Don Kernodle. When I see images of men like these, all I can think of is this: “What a man.” (Lol, I know, that’s pretty much useless random thinking. But there’s just something about seeing a bearish man standing around very comfortably in basically just his underwear.)
Here’s a classic 1982 WCW match of Mr. Kernodle against Tommy Gilbert. Don really knows how to sell his pain and beatdown. And as a bonus, there’s quite a handful of gut punches and kicks that he had to endure. Gotta love the grunts and oofs and aahs…
And here’s a squash match with the woofy Sgt. Slaughter. I don’t really like such “squash matches” but I’m posting it here because it’s one where we get to see him being interviewed. Again: “What a man.”
Kris Aguilar is one of the few musclebound actors from the Philippines. In the late ’80s/early ’90s, I remember going to local Filipino stores in Hawaii and scouring through VHS tapes that would have his name on the credits or some screenshots of him from the tapes’ back covers. Unfortunately, he played bit parts so the only way I could accurately figure it out was by watching as many Filipino movies I could so that I could see the trailers. Dedication, huh? Or was that psychosis? Anyway, in most of his roles, you either see him sporting a tight-fitting muscle t-shirt, or wearing an open vest (so that you could take a peek at his delectable bulging muscles), or just completely shirtless.
Normally, whenever he was shirtless, his smooth, beefy muscles would be typically drenched in sweat. He always played a bad guy who normally gets the upper hand in the beginning of the film then ends up getting completely beaten and owned. I tend to re-watch the latter as it’s always inherently sexy seeing a big bearish man getting dominated.
The following screenshots is a sampling of him getting gut-punched in Bloodfist II.
[FUN FACT: Kris Aguilar was also the bad guy in Bloodfist. He sported a mohawk in that original martial arts extravaganza then grew a mullet in Part 2 so that people would not recognize him. I don’t think it worked.]
This is pretty anti-climactic but I have some really fuzzy screenshots from a Filipino film called Makuha Ka Sa Tingin (Kung Puede Lang) (“To Get You With A Look (If It’s Okay)”). Basically, Kris Aguilar plays a musclebound fighter in an illegal street fighting ring. He was beating up on the hero (played by Robin Padilla) when Robin’s girlfriend tried to assist by kicking and punching big Kris on the gut. Needless to say, such punches were ulitmately weak and, no offense, girly. Kris then trapped the girlfriend to a corner and performed that typical pro-wrestling maneuver: scaring her with grunts and muscle poses with just enough time for the hero to recuperate and beat the living crap out of the beefy bad guy. Needless to say, the tables got turned and Kris got cornered; then, in very bad slow-motion, got punched repeatedly on the gut.
LVChubsGut created a “remix” of Paul Smith‘s beatdown from a film titled Sno-Line. I haven’t seen this movie at all, but I have to give mad props to LVChubsGut for delivering the goods. Okay, so I could do without the blood, but the gut-punching is just way too hot…
5 out of 5 Pawnches
It actually took me a full whole day to recuperate from JerBear‘s post about asking me if I would like to be in his wrestling videos. Not only would that be a dream come true, but it will probably be the cause of my heart attack (or as I told JerBear, “hard attack” — er, um, “lol”?).
Honestly, I’m just not sure how to react when the very bears I lust over for actually respond to me. My brain just can’t seem to calculate and analyze such repercussions. But I am so glad that JerBear is so down-to-earth and such an all-around very nice bear and man that it makes talking to him all the much easier.
I’ve decided to share my “fantasy wrestling fiction” that I’ve sent to my Fantasy Idol. And with it are pictorials of the ever woofy and sexy wrestling bear stud god, JerBear…
* * * * * * * * * *
The Twink Versus JerBear
The Twink shows up in the ring, excited at the upcoming match. JerBear, who’s only wearing black wrestling briefs and revealing his sexy belly, walks in the ring with an extremely cocky demeanor. He looks at the camera and flexes his oiled-up muscles. Sweat and oil co-mingle as they roll down his glistening bearish physique.
JerBear has a few choice words against his twink opponent, and as he does so, he flexes his muscles at him. The Twink responds by kicking JerBear multiple times on his belly. JerBear “oofs” and “aahs” from the barrage of kicks. He ends up trapped in the corner of the ring with his arms resting on the top ropes while The Twink unleashes a barrage of gut punches. JerBear endures the punishment while his moans of pains grow into a hypnotic crescendo.
The Twink then ceases his gut-punching, while the weakened JerBear continues to hang and rest on the ring corner, his glistening sweat’s even more pronounced than ever. The Twink then flexes in front of JerBear, mocking his massive opponent, kneels down then unleashes a flurry of rapid gut punches. JerBear’s legs react as though he was sprinting, while we see his gut quickly jiggle from the furious punching. The Twink tires out as he kneels down then lays his exhausted head on the weakened and tired belly of JerBear. The Twink’s head moves in tandem with JerBear’s heaving, breathing stomach.
The Twink slowly climbs up the seemingly-defeated mountainous body of JerBear. The Twink then puts his left hand on JerBear’s left chest then begins to use his right fist to gutpunch him. The punches are lazier and slower, as The Twink was on the brink of complete exhaustion. JerBear attempts to escape by moving his hips forward only to be brought back down by a slow and hard punch on the gut — which happens multiple times.
The Twink realizes that despite his unceasing attacks, JerBear appears to have some strength left. So he decides to kneel down again and headbutts JerBear on the groin. JerBear moans in complete agony as he holds on to his groin while he slowly walks to the middle of the ring. The Twink laughs then pushes JerBear from behind. JerBear falls in the center ring, still holding on to his manhood, groaning in pain. The Twink watches JerBear in glee as he circles his fallen opponent. He then puts his right foot on JerBear’s belly. JerBear could not even try to remove this smaller man’s foot away. The Twink then steps from JerBear’s one side to the other side. A loud “OOF!” comes out from JerBear’s mouth. The Twink then does it again and again, stepping and moving from left to right and right to left, all the while mocking and laughing at him. At this point, JerBear is just lying on the ring with his arms outstretched, his big belly heaving from exhaustion.
The Twink then stands between JerBear’s legs, kicking them in opposite directions so that he has enough room to kneel between them. He starts to toy with JerBear’s crotch by massaging it at first then pretending to punch them repeatedly. JerBear can barely move and the only movement he can make was occasionally lifting his head to see what’s going on. The Twink then makes a disgusted look at the unresponsive JerBear. He then grabs both legs with each hand, lifts them up, and starts to threat JerBear with stomping on his groin.
JerBear, realizing what was at stake, lifts his arms out and starts to plead with his attacker. “No, no, no, no, no,” he begs. The Twink just smiles then unmercilessly stomps on JerBear’s gut repeatedly. The helpless JerBear cannot do anything else but respond in kind to each and every successive stomp. As for The Twink’s finale, he lands a long stomp on JerBear’s big gut. The Twink then smiles devilishly at JerBear, lifts up his right foot then land it on JerBear’s balls. JerBear’s body reacts with his outstretched arms and shoulders going up about two inches from the mat while his face contorts from the sudden pain on his groin. The Twink lets go of JerBear’s legs but they continue to stay up. It’s as if a photo has been taken as the image of The Twink stepping on JerBear’s crotch has been frozen in time.
The Twink then steps in deeper on JerBear’s balls, weakening JerBear and finally making his body relax and dropping his full body on to the mat. A resounding thud is heard as JerBear’s shoulders, arms, and legs fall. The Twink, satisfied with his job of dominating this big bear of a man, sits on JerBear’s stomach, while his two thighs wrap around JerBear’s sweaty, heaving belly. The Twink begins to alternately punch JerBear’s left and right chest as he mocks his easily fallen opponent. The Twink then puts both of his palms on JerBear’s beefy chest and begins the count.
* * * * * * * * * *
Well, okay, so my story does not really end. But, really, would you want it to end?
And, also, for the record. I tend to not imagine myself as the “beater of bears.” I tend to be on the sidelines looking in. I just don’t see myself even pretending to wrestle with a bearish man. I’d definitely let him manhandle me though. Lol. The perfect death, I guess. Anyway, I’d much rather hug and enjoy his body than beat it up (fantasy-wise, of course). Still, I can’t deny the fact that seeing luscious bear men like JerBear getting dominated is definitely erotic and arousing.
Lol. Will I one day be in his video? I would love to, yet I’m nervous and scared at the same time. Let’s see what happens. -_^
I also seem to get attracted to big and buffed black musclebears with bleached hair. Here are two such beefy specimens: Shelton Benjamin and The Natural Butch Reed. I’m also trying to figure out why I don’t seem to get attracted to white men who possess the same beefcake/Chippendale’s physique like Shelton Benjamin does. For example, I can’t get attracted to Brock Lesnar even though his physique should totally appeal to my tastes — however, I just don’t seem to get that attraction. Am I racist against white musclebears? Or maybe my ‘lil Johnson’s the racist. Lol. Ah, well, such are the mysteries of life and boners. ^_^
“Hey, thanks. I’m going for that French look.”
I’ve also previously posted about Albert Fields from the underrated teen pop group, The Party. He also happened to look pretty good with bleached hair in the 1992 video, “Free” (and, no, that is not Sisqo!)