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From SBTB, some NSFW language within. Like, I don’t even know what having a dump-truck tushie means. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Heated Rivalry: The Unbearable Lightness of Having a Dump-Truck Ass“

by Candy

So right now I have a number of non-romance community friends coming up to me and saying stuff like:

“Oh hey sounds like some hockey fic finally made it onto TV, huh?”

“Yo Candy have you heard of the gay hockey romance TV show?”

“How excited are you about the gay hockey smut on TV?”

“Candy why is your entire Tumblr dashboard filled with naked asses?”

To which I say: excuse me, these are not just “naked asses.”

These are triple-platinum certified, AAA grade dumptrucks. Can dumptruck butts even be certified platinum, Sisqo hit notwithstanding?

Fuck you, they can now. These asses can do anything. These asses can fly you to the fucking moon. These asses were sculpted by the hand of God, after which God cut their own hand off because it had achieved perfection, so why sculpt anything else ever. Connor Storrie’s ass in particular is a mesmerizingly perfect hemisphere. He could never sneak into an enemy base because he is dummy thicc and the thunderclap of those asscheeks would absolutely alert the guards for miles around. Do you understand what I’m saying?

A | BN | K | ABBut the thing is, you need to watch the show — I can’t believe I’m saying this after what I’ve just said above — not for the asses, but because the actors are a delight to watch. It’s not that they’re beautiful, or at least, not only because of that.

It’s because they inhabit their characters to a degree that is frankly eerie.

Like: the way Connor Storrie holds his body as Ilya Rozanov in every scene. Man doesn’t stand like an American, though he very much is. (Storrie is a Texan. A Texan.) And what does “doesn’t stand like an American” even mean? Look, I can’t fuckin’ explain it, OK, but white American dudes tend to hold themselves A Way, and he doesn’t do it. It’s like porn (which this show delivers on, by the way). I just know it when I see it.

That’s not even going into Storrie’s near-impeccable Russian (which he apparently acquired over three weeks), or the things he’s able to do with his eyes, or the curl of an upper lip, or a flick of his eyebrow.

What, you think there wouldn’t be gifs? Come on now.

And then there’s Hudson Williams as Shane Hollander. Shane, the lawful good muppet to Ilya’s chaos gremlin freak. Williams nails every microexpression, especially in the scenes in which he’s texting Ilya: vulnerability, frustration, reluctant amusement, endearment—they all flicker across his face. He’s stiff and awkward, which you might initially mistake for bad acting, except no, that’s Shane: Shane is an awkward motherfucker! Shane Hollander has zero grace until you strap skates on him, or until he’s confronted by Ilya Rozanov’s dick.

Sure, sure, my friends say. Watch it for the acting. That’s what you say. That’s not what you’re reblogging on Tumblr, you thirsty bitch.

I mean, yeah. I’m mostly posting gifsets of dumptruck butts because I need everyone I know to watch this show, and while I honestly find this image of Ilya giving Shane the once-over when they first meet theee actual hottest thing, who the fuck cares about that who hasn’t seen the show already?

It’s pretty hot

That’s not going to grab people’s attention. Oh, look at this attractive white dude giving someone the ole bedroom eyes. Boh-ring. NEXT.

Ilya Rozanov, naked and glistening with water, jorkin’ it in the locker room showers while maintaining hideously uncomfortable eye contact with Shane? That’s an attention-grabber. And I’ve sold three different people into watching this show because of it.

Speaking for all of us…

So anyway, I’ve had to talk to several friends about this show, and about why I, a person who has worked hard all their life to achieve the perfect body (potato-shaped) care about sports romance, and I’ve come up with this Heated Rivalry explainer of sorts. Maybe you’ll find this helpful as you navigate conversations with other people in your life who are like, hey, I hear you like smut! What do you think of that smutty hockey show? Or, like, if you haven’t checked out either the book or the show, and somehow have avoided learning anything about either of them, maybe this will finally push you over the edge? In fact, I hope it does. Consider this me kicking you down a well lined with bare chests and fake team logos of dubious quality and screaming This! Is! Heated Rivalry!

What the hell is Heated Rivalry?

It’s not a fic, it’s a hockey romance novel by Rachel Reid. The two main characters are Ilya Rozanov, Russian hockey wunderkind, and Shane Hollander, Canadian hockey wunderkind. (And yeah, Shane bears a physical resemblance to Sid Crosby, and Ilya being Russian and playing for a rival team immediately raises the spectre of Alexander Ovechkin, but as far as I know, this isn’t scrubbed Sid/Ovi fic, even if, uh, the inspiration seems pretty clear.)

Shane and Ilya meet rookie year, find each other infuriating yet irresistible, rapidly hook up, and then continue to hook up over many, many years, only to slowly, excruciatingly, fall in love. It’s somehow both slow-burn and bangs immediately. You know U-Haul lesbians? These guys are the exact opposite. (Move-away gays? I’ll have to workshop that more.)

Anyway. The book is mostly sex scenes by volume, and not a single one is repetitive or wasted, because it’s how the character and relationship development happen.

It’s now a TV show, adapted by Jacob Tierney. That’s the same guy who brought you Letterkenny and Shoresy, neither of which I’ve watched, but which I’ve been aware of for years now because people whose tastes I trust have watched them and loved them and told me I should watch them. Sorry, guys, it took the power of gay hockey idiots to drag me into the Tierney-verse. I’m here now, and I love it!

The thing you need to know about this show is: it leans in. It fully commits to the bit. Look, I know I keep talking about how this show is worth watching above and beyond the sex and the beefcake, but the fact of the matter is, you can’t extricate the show from the sex and the beefcake, because it’s a show. About hockey players. Who fall in love because they fuck. A lot. Over many years. So yes, I’m going to talk about the sex.

OK! (snip-I can’t copy-paste their whole post; go read it, it’s great!)

A Sunday Read On Monday

Just not that into ewes: ‘gay sheep’ escape slaughter and take over a New York catwalk

I ram what I ram: Michael Stücke, the co-founder of Rainbow Wool, a company that produces wool from ‘gay sheep’ saved from slaughter, with his flock in Germany. Photograph: Steve Marais for Rainbow Wool

Designer Michael Schmidt’s 36-piece collection was made from the wool of rams who have shown same-sex attraction

Julia Carrie WongFri 5 Dec 2025 10.00 ESTShare

When a ram tips its head back, curls its upper lip, and takes a deep breath – what is known in the world of animal husbandry as a “flehmen response” – it is often a sign of arousal. Sheep have a small sensory organ located above the roof of the mouth, and the flehmen response helps to flood it with any sex pheromones wafting about.

Usually, rams flehmen when they encounter ewes during the mating period, according to Michael Stücke, a farmer with 30 years of experience raising sheep in Westphalia, Germany. But on Stücke’s farm, the rams flehmen “all the time”.

“They do this all the time, because they find each other attractive,” said Stücke of his 35 male sheep. “They’re cuddling. They’re showing signs of affection. They’re jumping on each other. It’s undeniable that they’re attracted to each other.”

Stücke is the proud shepherd of the world’s first and probably only flock of gay rams. Though researchers have found that as many as 8% of male sheep are “male-oriented”, homosexuality is viewed disfavorably by most farmers, who expect rams to perform a breeding function. Rams who refuse to breed are often slaughtered for meat, and it was during a discussion of this harsh reality with Stücke’s friend and business partner Nadia Leytes that the idea for Rainbow Wool was born: “What can we do to not send all of them to the slaughterhouse?”

“My heart beats for the weak and oppressed in general,” Stücke told the Guardian, with Leytes translating. “I am gay myself and know the prejudices and obstacles that come with being a gay man, especially in the agricultural business.”

Rainbow Wool’s solution has been to buy gay rams directly from breeders, outbidding the price they might receive from a slaughterhouse, and keep them for their wool. The flock now numbers 35, and the farm has a waiting list. Individual sheep can be named and sponsored – they include a Bentheimer landschaf named Wolli Wonka, a Shropshire named Prince Wolliam, and Jean Woll Gaultier – and the wool is processed by a mill in Spain. All profits are donated to LGBTQ+ charities in Germany. “A couple of sheep [have been] saved but also a couple of people,” Leytes said, noting that their donations have supported relocating people living in countries where being gay is illegal.

Correctly identifying a sheep’s sexual orientation can be tricky. “Everybody can just say: ‘Hey I have a gay ram,’” Stücke said, “but what we’re doing is observing their behavior.”

“Some rams basically jump on everything, whether it’s female or male,” he added. “That would not qualify as being a gay ram. That would qualify as being a dominant. But if a ram consistently refuses to mate with a female sheep, this is the sign that you know he prefers other rams.”

Stücke’s flock burst on to the fashion scene last month when they provided the raw material for a knitwear collection designed by Chrome Hearts collaborator Michael Schmidt and sponsored by the gay dating app Grindr. Schmidt sent 36 looks down a New York City catwalk, all knit or crocheted from the wool of Stücke’s gay sheep. Each look represented a male archetype, starting with Adam sans Eve and including a pool boy, sailor, pizza delivery boy, plumber and leather daddy.

Models wait backstage at Michael Schmidt’s presentation of I Wool Survive at Manhattan’s Altman Building. Photograph: Oliver Halfin

“I really wanted to lean into the gay,” Schmidt told the New York Times. “I view it as an art project. It’s selling an idea more than a collection of clothing, and the idea it’s selling is that homosexuality is not only part of the human condition, but of the animal world. That puts the lie to this concept that being gay is a choice. It’s part of nature.”

The naturalness of homosexuality as demonstrated by the gayness of sheep has been a subject of media fascination for decades, thanks in large part to Charles Roselli, a professor of biochemistry at Oregon Health and Science University. Roselli’s research into how sex hormones affect brain development is the source of the statistic about one in 12 rams being gay. (there is MORE on the page; it’s quite intriguing)

I Saw This Friday Night: “Hero”

I didn’t get it posted yesterday. It’s quite short, very enjoyable.

And Now, Tig Notaro-

I enjoy Tig Notaro’s talent. Especially when she shares it for worthy causes.

Mmm. Pie.

81-Year-Old Wins “Best Technique” at a San Francisco Lesbian Pie-Eating Contest

Babs wrote that her victory was “proving once and for all that experience matters.”

By Mathew Rodriguez

Proving that there is no age limit to good tongue skills, an 81-year-old woman who competed in a San Francisco lesbian pie-eating contest won Best Technique, per viral social media videos about the event.

Babs Daitch, who joined a crush of pie-eating lesbians in the contest on November 23, posted about her entering the contest, and subsequent title-winning performance, on her social media channels. Though she could not claim the overall victory — a woman named Jenn won, per the Bay Area Reporter — she did win “Best Technique,” per her own social media accounts. She wrote that her victory was “proving once and for all that experience matters.”

One video, posted on Friday, featured Daitch being cheered on by the crowd. Her response: sticking her tongue out in between her middle and index fingers. The clip has garnered over 40,000 views since it hit the internet. (snip-MORE on the page)

RIP, “Iconic Swamp King” Claude

I enjoyed reading about Claude now and then; maybe I’m not the only one.

‘Iconic swamp king’: San Francisco’s beloved albino alligator dies aged 30

Claude, the de facto mascot for a local museum, was the subject of a children’s book and regularly received fan mail

Claude, at the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco, on 24 April 2025. Photograph: Jeff Chiu/AP

Claude, the beloved albino alligator who called the California Academy of Sciences home for the better part of two decades, has died at age 30.

The San Francisco museum announced his death on Tuesday and said that the reptile had in recent weeks received treatment for a “suspected infection”. Claude, with his unusual white scales, had become a sort of mascot for the academy and the city. He was the subject of a children’s book and regularly received fan mail and gifts from around the world, the museum said.

“He brought joy to millions of people at the museum and across the world, his quiet charisma captivating the hearts of fans of all ages,” a statement from the museum read. “Claude showed us the power of ambassador animals to connect people to nature and stoke curiosity to learn more about the world around us.”

In September, the museum celebrated his 30th birthday with a month of festivities in honor of the “iconic swamp king”. (snip-MORE)