Dickinstrings

Chris Dickinson is always a pleasure to watch in the ring.  He always shows up thick, manly, brutal, and scantily clad.  Here he is getting ready to wrestle in the recent “Answering the Challenge” event for Combat Zone Wrestling.

You can peel that t-shirt off, Mr. Dickinson, once we’re finished gawking at how it hugs the curves of your powerful physique and how it stretches and bunches up just right.  “Satan” may ride alone, but hey, I’d carpool with you, stud.

You can see more great photos from this match at the Get Lost Photography website.

I swear, Chris Dickinson must read my blog.  Or he must know from talking to the fans that many of us have a thing for loose drawstrings on wrestling trunks.   He apparently decided to wrestle this whole entire match with those long, long strings swinging around untied between his legs.  He just goes on wrestling with his strings on full display!

I guess when you’ve already tried everything to get us to stare at your cock — when your very name causes us to think about your dick, and you already wrestle in the tiniest little speedo ever worn by such a big stud — I guess letting your strings hang down over your bulge and flap around is only thing left that can draw our attention to your big package.

Chris Dickinson usually plays the merciless, hard-ass villain, but it seems he’s taking a Face turn now.  After he is tossed to the floor, some bastards in business attire hold him down and kick him bloody with their hard-soled dress shoes. Awww, poor Dickinson — I’d help you up and give you a hug if I was there.

CZW is a bloody, violent, hard-core federation, so I’m not too surprised to see Dickinson wearing the crimson mask.  He makes his way back into the ring to continue the fight, now with blood streaming down his face and his drawstring flapping around loose with his trunks about ready to fall down.

Next, the cheating manager tosses a caustic powder into Dickinson’s eyes to blind him!  Oh how I love that classic, bitchy, sadistic tactic of blinding your opponent so he can’t defend himself!

Sure enough, poor Dickinson is flipped onto his head and easily pinned — his blood splattering on the victor’s chest.

Humiliated in his crimson mask (now also coated in the white chemical spewed in his face), Dickinson is clearly angry, and an angry Dickinson is a sexy Dickinson.

We get the sense that he deserved this beating — that he was due for this humiliation and suffering — for his cockiness displayed earlier: for not tying his trunks up properly.

Many great pro wrestling feuds tell this story — young hotshot behaves arrogantly; the cocky bastard gets humbled for being so obnoxious; humiliated stud seeks revenge.  So if you’re reading this Mr. Dickinson (and I know you are…), I want to commend you on some great work here.  You included several subtle little things that drive us wild about pro wrestling: those white drawstrings on display, a group sneak-attack, a bloodied face, and even the old powder to the eyes.  Great work man, keep it up!