We here at SSD are currently on a major Jeff kick. Well, for Ryan no one in wrestling has ever surpassed Jeff as far as I'm aware, but Debs and I have now hit the point where we just stare at him with our mouths hanging open. Debs occasionally musters the wit to mumble, "He really has filled out."

While Jeff was always beautiful, he's adding a ruggedness to that as he matures that certainly accentuates his appeal for those of us who like our men a little bit dangerous.

It's a bit of a mystery to me why fandom is not overrun with Jeff fic at the moment. Jeff was the wrestling slash writers' darling during the early years of his career; he was paired with everyone, and I do mean everyone, from Matt to Tazz via the Big Show and Vince. Jeff/Jericho was a particularly popular pairing. He was definitely wrestling slash's leading man. Sadly he was also often twinked half to death during this period. On the other hand, he really was asking for it. I mean honestly, pigtails, for fuck's sake.

He had his unintentionally funny moments; most notably for us at SSD his little accident on an edition of Raw early in 2001. Having secured a pin on Bull Buchanan and thus the opportunity for himself and Matt to challenge the Dudleys for the tag titles in a table match, he did the sensible thing and attempted to get the hell out of town before the RTC and the APA murdered him. Unfortunately he misjudged his escape slightly, and as he tried to roll under the bottom rope he succeeded in crotching himself on it. The only thing funnier than the expression on Jeff's face and his attempt to run up the ramp was the fact that Matt clearly found it hilarious.

His fashion sense was interesting - interesting in the sense that there was no middle ground. Everything he wore was either fantastic or fucking awful. Seriously, some of that stuff would have made Scotty 2 Hotty run away screaming. And only a redneck would think leopard and zebra print were cool in this day and age.