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’!]
“Thank Grizzly It’s Friday” is back. But this time, it’s just going to be a weekly post of random stuff, and sometimes sprinkled with my random ramblings. Come on, I know you love ’em! *groans* 😯
About the above photo. First of all, I’m not sure if that amateur wrestler is in college or not. If he’s a high school wrestler, well then, all I can say is that I did not know he was under 21, officer.
Anyway, the reason for my posting him is due to my usage of the word “bullpup.” After returning from my self-imposed exile from the gay bear universe a few years ago, I started to notice these newer “bear-related” terminologies: “bull,” “bullgoon,” “bullpup,” “goon,” “bullneck,” “brute,” “lugs,” and other similar-sounding terms (as well as sites/blogs and groups, such as “Real Thick”). Bullneck was definitely the one that popularized this even though he might say otherwise.
But then again, perhaps the popular Football Biggins website was the one that started this subculture.
“But, Will,” you might interject. “The bear community is already a subculture in itself.” I will then reply, “That’s correct. I’m referring to the “brutes/bulls” as a subculture within the “bear subculture.” The bear subculture is predominantly “owned” by the gay bears themselves, and to some extent their admirers who don’t quite fit the mold of your typical “bear” or “cub.” Either way, the overwhelming members are gay men.
[from Bullneckblog]
However, I feel that the “brutes” and the “bulls” are descriptions that tend to welcome straight men and women alike into our bear community. The admiration from such “brutish” and “bullish” men tend to be on the less pornographic side. Now this is based on what I have seen from my online travels. Of course, such men who possess such builds are still being sexually commented on, but oftentimes, their photos and videos are on the tame side.
[from Men In Full]
Then there is this overlap. There are chubby chasers, as well as daddy admirers. Those two specific types will always be in their unique “niche.” They are a subculture of their own for which the bear community have embraced. As the bear community did so, so did the “brutes and bulls” admirers: musclechubs and brutish daddies came to be. Well, became more prominent than ever, that is.
So do I have any point from all this? Nothing really. I just wanted to talk about the evolution of our loves for “big men.” I guess that’s the Greatest Common Denominator that all of us would agree on. Gay men to straight women, we are all attracted to “larger than typical-sized” men.
[from Flickr]
But then again, there are folks in the bear community who just like furry men, regardless of shape and weight. Unfortunately, at that point, I have failed that class and don’t have any viable discourse on the subject. ^_^
And I also haven’t even touched upon the bears’ S&M/bondage fetish and the bulls’ uniform fetish. Again, it’s interesting to see where the parallel lies: one is more sexually explicit while the other is not so much. Of course, that is just a generalization and not a complete fact.
What do you think of this? Am I wrong with my analysis or am I spending way too much time on something that doesn’t need to be explored? Or do you have a favorite term that you tend to describe our big bears, chubs, daddies, and brutes? If so, please share!
* * * * *
Enough of my rambling. Please visit and join the BearMythology Message Board.
The following is just a sampling of what’s being discussed this week. (I also plan on creating a members-only forum where I will post some scandalous photos and videos that I can only keep behind virtual closed doors… I will do everything in my power to make you join, goshdangit!) 😳
post of my member (not that member!) in all of his cute and woofy glory
links to the best Flickr Photostream
and even an amicable understanding between US and THEM from my yearly “Strongmen versus Gays” debate
[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
-Random BearFic-
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?”
“No.”
“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.
My second poll was the popularity contest between pro-wrestlers, Shane Twins and Power Twins. The poll is still open and it’s currently at 149-18! I have to admit that I was a bit shocked to find that The Power Twins got such few votes. And to disclose who I would have voted for, it would have been The Power Twins, David and Larry Sontag. To me, they’re just far more bearish than the beefy and muscular Shane Twins. But, perhaps, one of the main reasons is because I had actually seen one of them before here in Las Vegas.
I have seen Larry before at a Walgreens pharmacy many years ago. He was picking up some medication (possibly pain pills) but I did not know who he was at the time. All I knew was that he was talking to the pharmacist and she was asking him about his profession. He then started talking about wrestling, his back pain, and how “it’s just a living.” I’ll never forget that. The second time I saw him was at a strip joint called Spearmint Rhino, also in Vegas. (Backstory: I had to hang out with the guys I work with so that it looked “normal” and that I was attracted to women.) Anyway, I wasn’t sure if it was David or Larry because it was too loud and I was mesmerized at him holding my drivers license. I dreaded being at that strip joint but I was glad for being treated by such a pleasant surprise. (Come to think of it, I spent about two hundred dollars for lap dances that I did not care for. Geez. All that work and lost money so that I appeared to be “just one of the guys. I should have just given the money to Mr. Sontag as even though I did not get a lap dance from him — which was for the better as he would have crushed my legs — being in the presence of such an intimidating bouncer was way too erotic for me.)
Anyways, I’m a ramblin’. But you may be wondering how I could differentiate the two. Basically, Larry has a deeper New Yorker voice while David has a lighter and pronounced Long Island accent. In Ocean’s Eleven David was the one with the longer spoken lines and you can hear his accent clearly when he spoke to George Clooney’s character.
Larry on the left, David on the right…
And, finally, here’s a 2-part pro-wrestling matchup between The Power Twins and Masked Confusion (originally known as WWF’s “The Killer Bees”)…
[Related Posts – Power Twins]
A few months ago, I posed one of life’s important questions: “What happened to pro-wrestlers like these?” In this case, pro-wrestlers of the bearish and massively goonish mold. I then posted a photo of Bruiser Mastino who was only wearing a very revealing singlet. Ever since then, I kept doing a “monthly google” for this massive musclechub. Well, what do you know? Not only did it lead me to finding a couple of his wrestling matches, it led me to a Bruiser Mastino who only wore something much better than a singlet: wrestling trunks!
However, before we get to the even better goonie good-stuff, here are some photos of the woofy Mr. Hallick as one of my favorites in the old WWF, Mantaur…
These “eating photos” are dedicated to my good friend, Sam…
He had introduced me to a fetish that I wasn’t aware of.
And as an important sidenote to this post, Mantaur was not the only big fella in the early and mid-1990’s. My other favorites were Typhoon/Tugboat (Fred Ottman) and PN News/Cannonball Grizzly (Paul Neu). I’ve had many nights where I would fantasize the three of them together as this crew of evil henchmen. Here are some visuals of the other two naughty bears… (Alright, alright, what about Earthquake, Yokozuna, Bastion Booger? They’re there, I just want to keep my number of top goons in threes…)
Typhoon (Fred Ottman)
Cannonball Grizzly (Paul Neu)
Unfortunately (for you and not me), with my BearBeat fetish, they always end up getting beat up and dominated by <enter generic and non-descript fantasy good guy(s)/gal(s) here>. Here’s a close approximation of my BearBeat fantasies (of course, there are no actual usage of dangerous objects in my PG-rated fantasies).
As a treat, a video was just uploaded a few hours ago between Bruiser Mastino and Cannonball Grizzly. According to the YouTuber, they were real life pals…
It’s interesting to note how Cannonball Grizzly started out more chubby then later on transformed into a musclechub, while Bruiser Mastino started out as being more husky (or as a blog reader once mentioned this term, “Huscular”) but have now also turned into a musclechub. And for the sake of this post, both massive men are definitely of the bullgoon make and model.
Finally, here’s the match that you’ve all been waiting for… It’s a squash match between Bruiser Mastino and El Puerto Riqueño from ECW Holiday Hell 1995. My jaws literally dropped when I saw this match. Unfortunately for me, he dominated the little man and it did not do my fetish any favors. But, hey, beggars cannot be choosers as we were all treated to a big goon wrestling around in just those sweet, sweet trunks. So I ask the question again: “What happened to pro-wrestlers like these?”…
[Related Posts – Bruiser Mastino]
Andrew Anderson in The Wrestler
I have posted twice about him (here and here) but did not know who he was. Blog reader, Kevin, then sent me an email with not just this beefy musclebear’s name but a link to a goldmine of his photos which then literally caused me heart palpitations. You think I’m exaggerating? Here are just some of the photos of the woofy, and finally, not unknown wrestler named Andrew Anderson.
All of these fantastic photos are from getlostphotos’ SmugMug photo site.
Is there a term for the crease between the belly’s bottom portion and the hip? If there is one, then that “part” gets me all hot and bothered. 😛
[Related Posts – Andrew Anderson]
Again, the awesome Jorge has directed me to this great educational and photo/video-filled blog about Kushti Wrestling: Kushti: Traditional Indian Wrestling. According to the blog’s author:
The purpose of this blog is to raise awareness about the sport and give people inside and outside of India a glimpse of what it is like.
I will definitely be visiting it often. And I will be returning for the articles and not the photos… 😉
Here’s my favorite post from the blog: Washing Up.
I once posted about a short movie clip of Punjabi Kushti*. I claimed it to be The Most Erotically-Charged 1:42 Minutes Of Your Life. Well, how about we top it with The Most Erotically-Charged 2:19 Minutes Of Your Life?
Big thank you to Jorge for directing me to this fantastic video.
* Unfortunately, the video has been removed due to Terms Of Use violation…
Clip from BBC’s Last Man Standing
I’d be sporting a smile a mile-wide too if that was me
on top of the massively woofy bear…
Remember my barrage of collages of the woofy Shawn Murphy where there’s a particular focus on a specific body part? Well, I’m at it again with one of my particular fetish. This time the unfortunate victim of my specific attractions is with Shawn Murphy‘s King Kong Fu…
The following photos have nothing to do with BearPit (lol, I still can’t believe I’m calling it that), but it’s worth posting here as a companion piece for BearBeat… ^_^
[Related Posts – Shawn Murphy]
