It is now just 7 days until October 31st. This week's series of posts will focus on the weird and wonderful, the terrifying and creepy and as always, as many horrific hunks as I can gather in one place.
The first time I saw Canadian actor Brendan Fraser it was as a street kid in Everyone, Fraser's character was causing a bit of trouble for a gay couple who were about to get married. Fraser was perfect in the role, he has a real quality, raw, edgy and totally sexy.
I 'half watched' Freddy Vs Jason a few years ago, the film, yet another attempt to squeeze a few more bucks out of not one, but now two horror franchises. The flick, mostly forgettable, but Fraser has a few good moments, including his hospital mooning scene shown below.
'When I finally arrived, I didn't know what to focus my camera on first. Row after row of naked men in cages, some I knew, some I had worked with before. I was torn, did I open unlock the doors or capture the moment. My decision as you can see was to shoot. I am an artist! I am still haunted by the cries and moans of the dozens upon dozens of models we didn't free... and couldn't save'
In the world of male modeling, there are many secrets, strange occurrences and mysteries. Male models must learn lessons ranging from manscaping though how to bob and weave around lascivious casting agents. Models must decide whether want to be the next David Gandy or the the next Nick Gruber and learn that even if you label yourself a 'fitness' model, people will still want to see your junk.
One of the biggest mysteries however also remains the one most male models are terrified to talk about. Many think it, but few dare to ask exactly why so many male models seem to just disappear, never to be heard from again. You know what I mean. You know their names, the models who are on every site, every blog for a few weeks or months. The models who shoot with all the big photographers of the male form. The models who start out doing fashion, then move to underwear and nudes and finally... you guessed it, fitness.
The list is endless, you remember them, Godfre, Ayler, Austad, Fusco and so so many more. Many fans assume they succeed with their dj ambitions or ended up with office jobs putting their nude shoots in the rear view mirror. Some in the industry however... know the truth.
In huge Victorian mansion, at the end of a deserted country road, in a remote town, just a few hours north of New York city... he lives. They call him the Stud Collector, but his real identity might never be revealed in the light of day. Several hundred feet below the the ground, under the mansion is where the Dungeon sits. Starting back in the late 70's, he began his collecting. Every three or four months a new stud is added to the stable, most.. never heard from again.
But last months, there was finally a break in the case. Model, fitness model,and actor Johhny V went missing this past April, and like most of the models before him, the tell tale signs were there. His Model Mayhem page was quietly deleted and the updates on his Instagram came to a sudden, and terrifying halt. Johnny bided his time... He didn't let the leather, chains and torture wheel bring him down. From his small cage he could see it, close yet so far away. In the pile of pants in the corner, in the left hand back pocket of his jeans his cell phone sat. He had it turned off and prayed the batteries wouldn't fail him. Johnny planned it well, and finally, in mid September, the night arrived. Johnny knew his captor would be busy for at least an hour with the season finale of Dating Naked. His captors pattern was to make his way through a box o fFrench Rabbit Pinot Noir and then usually passed out before the end of the hour.
Johnny had learned how to use his powerful buttocks to shove tightly up against the door to ensure it didn't completely completely lock. He had his plan; Get to the cell phone, call 911 and get the hell out of there. When the night finally arrived, Johnny moved into action. He quietly opened the door with his butt and headed towards his pants. The phone was there and when he pressed the button and saw the bars start to flicker, he breathed a huge sigh of relieve. What Johnny didn't know however was there had been a barn fire earlier in the evening and given how small the town that he was trapped in was, 911 was busy. Johnny began pressing his contact list buttons until finally, at #9, someone answered.
Luckily for Johnny, Carl Proctor was in New York shooting and after hearing his plight, grabbed his camera and followed Johnny's cell phone GPS to the mansion. When Carl burst into the room the rest of the models screamed cries of joy, Pizzaro and J Dominic began to weep. Carl Proctor was no fool though, before opening the cages, he began to shoot and had Johnny re-enact the last few months of living in the dungeon. Before Carl had finished however, the Stud Collector was waking up and Carl and Johnny bolted, with the plan to call the police to return and rescue the rest of Collector's captives.
When the police finally arrived at the mansion a few hours later it was too late. The dungeon was empty... all that was left were piles of empty protein powder packages and a few pairs of Andrew Christian undies strewn on the floor. The Stud Collector was fast. He knew this could happen and had a team ready to move his menagerie to another location, in another small town in another State. He managed to have all the cages quickly moved, even the empty double sized cage, the collector was getting ready for the Carlson Twins. Johnny will never forget his harrowing ordeal and thanks to Carl, we finally now have visual documentation of the model mystery which most in the industry have been so quiet about...yet known for a very long time.