Curse Yore Beautiful Hide

Thank God for his boner, or else the belt would just fall right off.

As memorialized by the nice folks at the International Hero website, this is "Zagor", a woodsy Phantom/Tarzan type who is popular in Italy and Brazil. Born Patrick Wilding, or maybe that's his porn star name, Zagor lost his folks to vengeful Native Americans at a pretty young age. He managed to raise himself and did a pretty darned fine job of it to, by the looks of him. He acquired the name, "Za-Gor-Te-Ney", which means "the Spirit with the Tomahawk."

Zagor headquartered himself in a forest near the Great Lakes, some time between 1820 and 1840. Which doesn't explain why one of his enemies was a Druid, but what the heck.

So, how do I like Zagor's looks? I... don't. He's too pretty. When I think "backwoodsman", I think of Howard Keel in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers": tall, mighty, and scruffy as hell, not to mention, simply brimming with all kinds of intriguing musks. This glamorpuss is too smooth by half. Howard Keel or any of his brothers -- even Russ Tamblyn! -- would take this joker apart.

And they'd sing you a rousing tune while they did it!

The costume is unremarkable, especially in how it cleaves so predictably to four-color super-hero conformity: primary colors, insanely tight fit, the chest armor/symbol with the "which way is it pointing?" bird/thing on it... it all adds up to a big "yawn" from me. Yeah, so he's baring his muscled, sinewy arms. Big deal. There's nothin' on em! No hair. No tats. No cool bracelets or other adornments. Just a lot of smooth pink skin. Go away, Zagor. You're bothering me.

Go back to working as a bouncer at a gay squaredance, or whatever the hell it is you do.

Nipples, Italian Style

Well, of course, he'd dress like that. He's a hypnotist. (I remember when a traffic court ordered me to see an anger-management therapist. The doctor was dressed only in combat boots and a jockstrap... by the time I'd gotten done with him, anyway.)

From the extensive files of the International Hero website comes "Argoman"! This strapping (if disappointingly hairless) specimen of manhood is the star of an Italian film from the 1960's. But hey! Check out them nipples! Rrrowr! I'm guessing the actual costume worn by the actor was some sort of spandex deal, so you couldn't really see his nipples. A guy can dream, though. Can't he?

Alias "Sir Reginald Hoover", Argoman has super-strength, super-hearing, telekinetic powers, and a "These are not the cannoli you're looking for" type of hypnotic suggestion, which is to say it only works on really stupid people. Bonus: he loses all his powers for about six hours after having sex. Sound familiar, guys? Not to me, of course. I'm so dad-blamed virile, I wear dudes out in their efforts to satiate me. I often find myself in a "Prince of Space" scenario, where my weary partners will try to tire me out with some newfangled sex toy (or three), and I'll bellow, "Your weapons are useless against me!" Then I'll let fly with a deep, thundering chortle which terrifies/thrills them.

"So, other than the nipples -- and might I add, 'enough already!' -- how did you like the costume, Mister Blockade Boy?" Thank you for asking. And don't sass me! Once I tore my eyes off his nipples -- which took a while -- I saw that it was a pretty lame costume. Sort of a mash-up among the Black Condor, Hourman, and Cyclops. I hate it when capes are attached to the wrists. The belt is the most interesting thing about him. And it sucks. So no, I don't like the costume. But since it's Italian, I'm sure the tailoring is impeccable.

Legion of Substitute Costumes Bonus: Weight Wizard

The crew of the H.M.S. Exquisite has the distinction of including five individuals who were rejected for membership by the Legion of Super-Heroes and one bad-ass Brigadier who could give a space-rat's ass about those stuck-up phonies. Although the Legionnaires have purchased costumes from me and as such are valued customers. What's that, you say? Weight Wizard and Plant Lad aren't on the official list of Legion rejects? Apparently their try-outs were so embarrassing that the Legion didn't even bother to record them! I wasn't there for Weight Wizard's. I found out about the whole deal one day when I came home to find him splayed out on the divan, crying his eyes out. He still refuses to divulge all the details. The more I think about it, the more I'm sure he didn't actually try out for the Legion, he came on to someone in the Legion and got "rejected." Timber Wolf, maybe. Huh. Now I'm kinda pissed.

As I explained in my very first post, Weight Wizard wasn't wearing his costume at the Super-Stalag of Space. That was just a nice t-shirt and cargo pant combo I'd found for him at Old Space Navy. My old 21st Century buddy Jeremy sketched Weight Wizard (and Plant Lad) in some older costumes I'd designed for them.

But that was years ago (my time) and I thought you all might like to see how I'm gussying up Weight Wizard's short, stumpy frame nowadays.

"Weight" + "Wizard" = THIS. I designed it all, including the hairstyle and the nifty scales tattoo. I wanted to make him look a little like a sorceror, ergo the "Doctor Strange" by way of "Iron Fist" feel of it. ("Karate Kid" who?!) The robe hugs his torso via the latest in Colorforms Technology. Cover up the nipples? Not on your life, buddy! I need 24-hour access to those babies! The sleeves are voluminous to support the wizard theme, but the rest of the costume is tight because what little there is of Weight Wizard's body is in fine shape, and also you can't put baggy clothes on a short dude without them looking like a Jawa. And although Weight Wizard is a natural blond, I thought he looked more "mystical" and grown-up with black hair... that had a huge spiked-up purple forelock smack-dab in the middle of it. And yes, although I loves me some hairy chest, it was worth it to get rid of Weight Wizard's chest hair to make room for that tattoo. And the rest of him is still kinda hairy, so, y'know. It's a win-win for me.

I'll get to the rest of the crew over the next week. And I'm allowing Storm Boy to write his own post, which should be... fun. *rubs temples, hoping to stave off incipient migraine*

I've added the "Legion of Substitute Costumes" tag to all my old posts in this category. So instead of having to click on each item in a list, you should be able to hit the tag and pull up every "Substitute" post, including this one. I'll be working on getting every post I've done tagged up, so the tags are actually useful. (A radical idea, I know.)

Nipples Are for Pussies

Then Jimmy turns around and she sees he has no nipples and she throws herself screaming off the nearest pier.

Just kiddin'! Jimmy knows that most women prefer their men to have smooth, hairless, feminine bodies. That's why he gets his chest waxed! But first and foremost, Jimmy is a man. A man's man. So when his latest round of waxing pulled his nipples right off, Jimmy didn't so much as grit his teeth! Because that would be a sign of weakness. And does he cover up his curious amputation? HELL NO. Because that unlicensed and probably illegal Brazilian waxer had played right into Jimmy's hands! Because Jimmy's been around. And Jimmy knows. If the ladies love a hairless chest, they'll go apeshit over a chest with no hair and no nipples! Finally, Jimmy's vast, rotating coterie of girlfriends can run their busy fingers over his slab-like body without hitting the "speedbumps" as they used to call them. No, it's "smooth sailing" for old Jimmy Banion from here on in.

(Myself, I'd rather die.)

I Always Suspected As Much

Two of my greatest suspicions have been confirmed.
1. I couldn't possibly be the only person who wears undergarments with his own face on them.
2. Wolverine is smoother than a Ken doll!

Jeebus, dude, who talked you into getting your chest waxed? Because that person was not your friend.

Anyway, the weird shapelessness of Wolverine's crotchal region inspired me to pen this one-act play:

Horny Ninja Alien Princesses 38

Cast:
Wolverine: Himself
Princess Nil'ja'dri'mor: Dame Judi Dench

Setting: the sumptuously appointed stateroom of Princess Nil'ja'dri'mor, aboard her living space-yacht, the Aetherrunner. The Princess and Wolverine enter, passionately kissing, and make their way towards her bed, slamming into walls and knocking things off tables as they go.

Princess: Tomorrow we fight what may well be our final battle against the Sl'wev'ghr in the heart of the B'mil'hov'nor Galaxy! But tonight... we love!

Wolverine: Daddy needs some candy, baby! Let's do this thang!

Princess (uses her fantastic alien strength to rip Wolverine's belt off, and then starts to pull down his tights): Let's get you out of these dumb ol' clothes! Tee hee!

Wolverine (pulls back): Whoa! Whoa! Er, doesn't it seem kind of bright in here? It's kinda ruining the mood.

Princess: Oh, you want the lights out?

Wolverine (grins devilishly): The Wolverine only comes out at night, baby! Grrrowff!

Princess: Anything for you, my regal warrior.

(She claps her hands twice and the lights go out. The pair are illuminated only by the faint glow of swiftly passing stars.)

Wolverine: Phew! (nervously fans self with his hands) Omigod that was so scary!

Princess: What?

Wolverine: Just talking to myself. Because I'm crazy! I slice men into ribbons with my sweet-ass claws 'cause I'm mean-mad with the bloodlust! I'M WOLVERINE, BABY!!! AAAARRROOOOOO!!!

Princess: Take me, you hairy alien lunatic! Take me now! The Princess commands you! (She pulls down his tights, and finds a pair of Hanes boxers underneath with Wolverine's image on them.) Okay. Weird. Well, off they go, too!

Wolverine (grabs her arms): Not so fast there, slick. That porthole over there... don't you have some draperies or something we can cover that up with? I really need for it to be totally dark in here. I can't explain why but it's just very important to me.

Princess: No, no draperies. Quit stalling! Your Princess wants some of that strange Earth lovin'!

Wolverine: Hey, look! There's an armoire right next to it! If we each took one side, we could move it in front of the porthole and voila! Problem solved! Or maybe we could use that extra sheet over there as a sort of impromptu window treatment... (he begins to flop-sweat)

Princess: Relax, lover! Nobody can see us here! (she yanks down the boxers) Now, I'm going to show you pleasure like you've -- huh. Ha! HAW HAW HAW! You have got to be freaking kidding me! It's like a little Vienna sausage! Oh, lordy! Wait'll I tell my handmaidens about-- (Wolverine disembowels her)

(curtain falls)