March 2013 Beta Of The Month

The readers squalled, and their demands were answered: Beta of the Month is back in a big way. And why not? There’s nothing like a real life story ripped from the headlines to illuminate the reality of female hypergamy for strong and desirable alpha males, and the dire self-inflicted powerlessness of beta males which pushes their women into the waiting arms of lovers or divorce lawyers. Let us hie to the Betadome!

******

March 2013 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by a reader who requested anonymity. The reader pulled this first candidate from an online forum for Catholics, and he writes:

You must teach Catholic/Christian men to rule their wives. Save Christianity, save Western civilization. Or something like that.

If you don’t, who will?

Could it be…… Satan?

Ok, then. Class is now in session. And what group is more in need of an education in the reality of the sexual marketplace than gullible white knights and mincing betaboy men of the Church? Like most Western institutions, the Church has succumbed to the grinding feminization of its traditions and ideals. BOTM Candidate #1 weeps his plaintive wail to his Lord and the flock:

Hi,

My wife of 12 years and mother of 4 told me she wants a divorce because she has “fallen out of love” with me and can “never love me again. “

Where have we heard this before… oh yeah, everywhere.

Last night she explained her life plan, that I would buy her a car and two condos so we could be divorced and neighbors. She said her online friends are doing it that way.

Ballsy bitch. This “life plan” is a tidy encapsulation of the desire of women to extract emotional and financial resources from doting beta males while being free to pursue sexual resources from sexy alpha males. I love the “all our friends are doing it” appeal to popularity. Men use arguments to win the crowd. Women use the crowd to win arguments.

I don’t want a divorce but I do want to separate our finances. She’s been running up secret debts and taking out “loans” for her Etsy shop, and I don’t know of a way to stop her from driving me into a second bankruptcy so long as she is my legal spouse.

Marriage is a sucker’s bet for men. Western women simply know how to play this game better. The best way for men to play is to not play at all. At least not until there are significant legal and cultural reforms that level the playing field away from the direction toward wives that it has tilted for a few generations.

She’s been hinting that she has a long-distance boyfriend, and announcing that she wants to convert to the LDS church. I think she’s only saying that to try to get under my skin, but if true I wouldn’t want her as my wife and mother of my kids respectively.

When women fall out of love, they become as stone cold ruthless as the best trained warriors. If the man sticks around instead of freeing her, she will rapidly turn from cold to icily cruel.

I would enjoy life more without her, and I can’t imagine that divorce could possibly be more expensive than marriage to her thus far. I would really like getting to make it to mass (which she is absolutely against in practice, if not in word. )

Most women aren’t thinking about the financial angle when they want out from a marriage to a mewling beta. They’re thinking about getting away from the stench of his nauseating seed.

I don’t know. I bought her a bouquet of flowers last night and gave her more money, but I don’t think that marriage is a viable long term solution.

Systemic beta failure.

My mother was hospitalized yesterday and is facing possible death and almost certain permanent disability. And I haven’t slept much. So, I might be missing something obvious.

You can say that again.

I don’t know what to do. I turned to the rosary and felt prompted to buy a dozen roses. I talked to my priest, he was very kind and offered to prey for me.

Has a more fitting typo ever been seen in print?

My wife wants to keep this secret from everyone. I’m of two minds about that, on one hand the privacy might give her the leeway to back down. But on the other hand I think that divorce is a public problem. She said in response that we could separate and be married too.

By nature I like to let things blow over,

And that is why you fail.

but I fear that my serenity is foolishness or cowardice.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me ten thousand times, I’m a beta.

She refuses to go to marriage counseling.

It’s amazing how much smarter than the average man women are about evaluating relationship health and prognoses for remediation. Hopefulness is cowardice and cowardice is beta.

Anyway, I could really use some wisdom. In out of my field of expertise.

Poor bastard. Can anyone deny that this is a good man? He loves his wife. He’s emotionally close to her. He’s generous with his time and attention and money. But he has a fatal flaw. He’s a beta male. And that beta groveling he thinks is the key to winning the renewed love of his wife is JUST THE FAILURE that will ensure her loathing.

******

March 2013 BOTM Candidate #2 was submitted by reader dorsey47. It’s a video by a creativity class SWPL (aka try-hard beta) of his ELABORATE proposal to his rather plain-looking girlfriend who sports a *danger* male digit ratio *danger*.

Overproduced schlock. Any man who spends this much energy producing a film school highlight reel of his proposal to his girlfriend is a beta. Any man who constructs a proposal that requires the participation of twelve indie drummers and gifts and prizes spread out over twelve days is a master beta.

Look, I’m a romantic as much as the next hedonistic whore. But there’s an alpha way to romance a lady, and a beta way. Showering a girl with presents over two weeks and honoring her with a movie documenting the whole deranged process that took 1,300 man hours to complete is the beta way.

The overproduced and overdone film festival proposal is a sign of the times. That sign screams loud and clear: BETA MALE MUST GIVE IT HIS ALL TO SECURE FIDELITY FROM CHUBBY FRUMP. PRIME DIRECTIVE: SPIT SHINE WOMAN’S PEDESTAL.

Do women love this kind of stuff? Yes, in the abstract. Do they respect it? Unsure. Do they get aroused by it? No.

If you are a beta male thinking about drawing up schematics for a truly awe-inspiring proposal to your girlfriend, might I humbly suggest you instead divert that energy into more satisfying and personally advantageous pursuits, like a job promotion or an update to your herbish wardrobe? She’ll still love you, and you’ll have increased your options among prettier women. Win, win!

******

March 2013 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by reader Larry. Take some Tums, because this story is revolting. If you don’t feel a gag reflex, your stomach is stronger than mine.

A Staten Island woman went the full EatPrayLove on her beta hubby, and was predictably killed by some swarthy roustabout in Turkey. Ho hum, right? Well, it gets worse. To appreciate the glorious soul-imploding banality of this particular beta male husband, you have to read his words. Reporters found a treasure trove of Instagram messages from the husband that were posted a few weeks before his wife left on her self-actualization sabbatical.

“Don’t cheat in relationship [sic],” reads Steven Sierra’s Instagram posting dated Dec. 28. “If you’re unhappy then just leave.”

He put up another message later the same day, adding, “A real relationship is where you can tell each other anything and everything. No secrets, no lies.”

My guess is that the wife is the one who cheated. Cheating men rarely confess their sins in this manner. Neither do cheating women, but cheated on betas DO confess their helplessness to any who will listen.

“Good relationship [sic] don’t just happen,” the post reads. “They take time, patience and two people who truly want to be together.”

The wife is spinning out of the beta’s control, and he is desperate for answers. The flail is strong in this one. As is the martyrdom.

“People are to be LOVED. Things are to be USED. The reason why the world is in chaos is because THINGS are being LOVED and PEOPLE are being used,” the message declares.

That’s actually pretty fucking poetic. Is there hope for this beta? HA.

Turkish media have also reported that Sarai’s brother, David, warned his sister against cheating on Steven and encouraged her to simply leave him.

Yup, she cheated.

In an interview with Turkish paper Hürriyet, Steven [the jilted husband] said that his wife had insisted on going to Turkey and that he accepted her wishes. He has been mum on the rumblings of infidelity.

Never…. NEVER… allow your wife to travel overseas without you if there is even a hint of trouble in your relationship. You may as well give her a one-way ticket to cockalopolis.

“I had to permit her to go,” he said. “She was very insistent on going. In such situations. you have to support your wife.”

“I had to permit her to go… In such situations, you have to support your wife.” The rallying cry of the beta male. Wife cheated, wants to go to Turkey by herself? She’s BEGGING you to put your foot down and be a man for once in your pathetic life. She doesn’t want your permission. She doesn’t want your suppoooooort. She wants your strength. She wants you to take what is yours. She wants to feel your POWER. The alpha male POWER that is the only known force in the universe that can rend vaginas sealed shut by the weak solicitations of mincing beta males.

And if she still disobeys you, at least you have your dignity, you fucking faggot. You can walk away from her with your balls intact.

Sheltered numbskulls who fervently latch onto the belief that emotionally distant husbands are the primary reason women fly the coop have no goddamned clue how much women despise weak, emotionally available men. Beta men. They need to get out more.

******

Vote below:

Read Full Post »

Beta Of The Month: When You Can’t Hide It

You’ve got to have a strong stomach to make it through this edition of BOTM. This segment will hit a lot of buttons, as well it should. In a Slate “Dear Prudence” mailbag, a woman writes for advice from Prudie (Emily Yoffe) on how to break the news of her cheating whoreishness to her kids and neighbors.

Q. Where Do I Tell My Son His Sister Came From?: A few years ago I cheated on my husband, got pregnant, and decided to keep the child. Because my husband and I had a 2-year-old son together we decided that we could keep our marriage together for his sake. The thing that really complicates things is that my husband, son, and I are white, while my lover was black, and so my daughter is mixed race. Naturally my son has begun questioning why his sister looks so different from the rest of us, and my mother-in-law took it upon herself to tell him she was adopted. I’m at a loss for what to do. For now my husband has told MIL that the topic is verboten, but we haven’t decided if we should correct her error. Until now I’ve been happy to just let people assume what they want about where my children’s origins are, but now that a story is getting around, I’m not sure what to say or how to handle it.

We’re a long ways from Normal Rockwell’s America.

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the husband surrendered to his wife’s crazy-eyed demands shrunk from risking the certainty of a divorce industrial complex ass-ramming politely discussed and agreed with his wife to keep the marriage going “for the sake of the children”.

Gotta love those children — the perfect leverage for whores and the state to use against wronged men.

Femcunt: “How can you POSSIBLY think of leaving your wife and hurting your children just because she had an unfortunate and fleeting five-year dalliance with an underprivileged but incredibly confident and masculine black man who also happens to be a doctor?”

Beta Herb: “But, I thought single moms are a light unto the world, and their children are successful in every way?”

Femcunt: “Oh, that’s rich. Using white male logic on me. Check your privilege, herbling!”

Beta Herb: “I’m so sorry. Please don’t yell at me. I’m a nice guy.”

Femcunt: “Nice guys are really jerks! You would know that if you weren’t such a jerk.”

Beta Herb: “Should I just off myself?”

Femcunt: “There’s an idea.”

Please, did you expect a feminist to comprehend dual mate strategy? Or to dabble in rationality?

Is this hubby a beta for staying with his wife when it’s so obvious to anyone with eyes that the mocha child in tow is living proof the whore wife cuckolded him in the arms of a five-point buck? Yes, he is. There’s simply no way a man can retain the heft of his balls — whatever he’s carrying — or any shred of honor, sticking by the side of an unfaithful wife who so ostentatiously gelded him, a mixed-race living reminder of his emasculation total yapping at his heels. There are just some indignities a man should not ever tolerate, especially when alternatives exist, such as beating a middle-of-the-night escape to another country to avoid punitive extractive alimony and child-support payments.

But the ideal course of action for the grievously insulted beta provider hubby presumes a somewhat sane world envelops him, and will consider his case fairly. Unfortunately, thanks to the relentless moronic march of feminists and equalist filth, and their lethal infection of the media/entertainment/academia/bureacracy complexes which constitute the juggernaut known as the Western Cathedral, we are far from living in a sane world. Instead of receiving recompense from his ex-wife for cuckolding him, and full custody of his one biological child, plus the sympathy and support of his community and the state, he would likely receive for his trouble of separating himself from the bitch who metaphorically shit in his face an extorted, back-breaking retirement plan paid in full to her, plus two days per month visitation rights. And prison rape for any failure to comply with his dispossession.

Given this morbid reality, how fitting is it for us to label such a man a hopeless beta? Isn’t he just as much a victim of his circumstance and the world which is cruelly indifferent to him as he is of his own weak character? I’m loathe to come down too hard on this guy, who probably decided it was better to minimize the fallout from a really shitty situation than to seek the justice that was rightfully his from the insult of his wife’s awesome betrayal.

However, in the final analysis, he earns his BOTM nomination. The reason why is found in the wife’s decision to keep the bastard. She would not have entertained keeping the mixed-race issue if she had a modicum of respect for her husband. Instead, it is likely he is a beta male in his heart whom she despised, and that made the decision easy for her. What use is appeasing a husband you hardly respect, let alone desire or admire? Why care for the soul-ripping consequences your detestable actions will have on a husband who no longer, if he ever did, inspires your adherence to a moral calculus via the encouragement of wonderful twat tingles? She wanted this kid born, wanted this gaudy tri-hued mockery of her marriage to shoot out of her festering womb, because it was the kid of another man. A better man.

The hubby chump doesn’t even have the luxury of hiding his shame behind ego sparing lies. A white kid could plausibly be passed off as his. But a pint-sized frappuccino is a glossy mag ad situating his disgrace front and center for the entertainment of the studio audience of his life.

And every day, every goddamned minute of every day, this pitiful lackey, chained by law and habit and feebleness to the golem of his wife’s black soul, will suffer his humiliation anew. There will be no escape from the breaking wheel that cracks the bones and tears the sinew of his self-worth. No refuge from the material proof of his wife’s love for another man. No competing nightmare visceral enough to block out the constantly birthing image of his wife’s cunt stretching and ululating for another man’s dick, and her womb happily germinating the prize of another man’s seed. A prize made all the more demeaning by the context of the times, where an abortion clinic to solve untidy problems like this one exist on every street corner, and condoms are handed out like candy. This woman made her choice WHEN SO MANY OTHER CHOICES WERE READILY AVAILABLE that would have partly bandaged the immortal wound she knifed into her husband’s pride.

His world is the world of slaves. A spiked heel kicking in his nuts, forever.

What can be salvaged from this woeful cataclysm? Oh yes, there is something.

A word about the children. Sometimes, the children must suffer to right a horrible wrong. To rectify an impossible evil. And the world must make it known who, in actuality, is the cause of their suffering. Every day, the children must know it was Mommy, not Daddy, who royally fucked their lives.

For shits and giggles, I’ll post Emily Yoffe’s reply:

A: Despite continuing weekly evidence to the contrary, I will continue to believe that the vast majority of men who think they are the biological fathers of their children really did provide the sperm. If you get impregnated by a lover of another race, what you say to your children about this is something that needed to be discussed openly with your husband, preferably before the baby was born. Making the utterly obvious verboten is not a good strategy for anyone. I think what you need for your immediate family is a dose of the truth. But, for your children, it needs to be age appropriate. Since your daughter was born a few years ago, your son is old enough to know the basics of reproduction. He needs to be told that his sister has the same mother, but a different biological father. However, what’s really important is that both he and his sister are being raised by the same daddy. You can tell him families are made all sorts of ways, and yours is just a little bit special. If your son—and eventually your daughter—want to know why this is the case, it’s fair to tell them that it’s a complicated story, and they will probably understand it more when they’re older. Say they can talk about this subject any time, but if they can wait, you and their dad can fill in more details as they grow up. For outsiders, you don’t need to explain anything. You can just say you are blessed with two beautiful children. And your husband needs to tell his mother to stop telling the kids something that’s simply wrong.

She evinces a glimmer of sympathy for the husband, but of course her advice, such as it is, amounts to the usual pro forma feminist crap: suck it up, herbische kopf, for the good of the children.

(The only person who comes out seeming halfway decent is the mother-in-law — the husband’s mother — who wants to protect her son from shame by passing off his daughter as an adoptee. Can you blame her for this honorable lie? She acted with good intentions, even if her solution is unworkable in the long run.)

My advice to him would be: get the hell out of Dodge. And don’t look back, and never let her get her paws on one red cent of your bounty or one precious second of your time. Find yourself a better woman in another country. My alternate advice, if American law weren’t so egregiously stacked against men’s interests, would be to march into court, DNA paternity test results in hand, and punish her with the same everlasting torment she has bestowed him. Grab custody of the one kid that is yours, and send the ex-wife and her love child packing for the icy wastelands, where aging single moms with complicated spawnage have about as much success in the dating market as obese, neckbearded furries. If she winds up killing herself, or her kid graduates to juvie as a glue sniffer, all the better.

Too much? No. Cuckoldry — knowing cuckoldry, at that — is the greatest betrayal. The most horrible metadeath. It is the gleeful sham of a scheming Satan. The cosmic shiv driven deep into the chewy center of the soul. The ur-lie. The King Of All Lies. The one lie to rule them all.

There is only one other lie that comes close to the terrible power of the cuckold’s deception, and that is the fraternal betrayal of a solider against his buddy in the trenches. But that awful betrayal, bad as it is, at least does not rub salt in the wound for eighteen excruciating years.

Read Full Post »

Beta Of The Month: Asexual Purgatory

There are apparently asexuals among us. They claim they have no interest in sex, and it’s not a psychological coping mechanism for involuntary celibacy.

Jenni is one of the estimated 1% of people in the UK who identify themselves as asexual. Asexuality is described as an orientation, unlike celibacy which is a choice.

“People say ‘well if you’ve not tried it, then how do you know?’” says Jenni.

“Well if you’re straight have you tried having sex with somebody you know of the same sex as you? How do you know you wouldn’t enjoy that? You just know that if you’re not interested in it, you’re not interested in it, regardless of having tried it or not.”

I’m trying to picture how musty and cobwebbed her vagina must be. It’s probably fused shut at this point, kind of how the skin of morbidly obese corpses will fuse with the couches they died on. I wonder if she’s ever shoved anything up her puss to get off? If so, that would put the lie to her assertion that she has no desire for sex. More likely, she just fears and loathes male sexuality. I bet her nightmares consists of 3D penises raining down on her like ICBMs scarring the sky with cum contrails.

This is true of Jenni who is heteroromantic, and although having no interest in sex, is still attracted to people, and is in a relationship with 22-year-old Tim. Tim, however, is not asexual.

“A lot of people actually ask if I am being selfish and keeping him in a relationship that he won’t get anything he wants [from] and he should go and date somebody like him, but he seems quite happy, so I’d say I’d leave that up to him,” says Jenni.

Just when you thought the world couldn’t possibly have enough self-hating beta males willing to sacrifice a basic human need for the company of weirdo übercockteases. And is it my imagination, or is the ratio of white and asian beta to alpha getting more skewed every year? Welcome to Generation Puffboy.

Tim is enjoying spending time with and getting to know Jenni by focusing on the romantic aspects of their relationship.

It’s like compliment & cuddle, times one thousand. With no chance for redemption in sight.

“The first time that Jenni mentioned in conversation that she was asexual, my initial thought was ‘hmm that’s kind of odd’,” says Tim, “but then I did know enough not to make assumptions about what that meant.

What a mincing pissant. Tim, when a girl you met has told you that she doesn’t like sex and will never have sex, your first thought should’ve been “I just wasted thirty dates with this insufferable cocktease. How do I get away from her before my emasculation is total?” At the very least, return the favor by using her as a pawn to meet other girls.

[Tim]: “I have never been obsessed with sex. I’ve not been one to have to go out at night and have to have someone to have sex with, because that’s what people do… so I’m not all that concerned about it”.

One reason why betas allow themselves to be LFBFed and used as emotional tampons in perpetuity is that it relieves them of the stress of sacking up and busting a move. You could call it cockooning.

Jenni’s relationship with Tim does have a physical side, as they cuddle and kiss to express their affection for each other.

And there it is. Beta of the Month. Congratulations, Timmy, you sicken the world of normal men and inspire the pity of normal women. When you masturbate away all that pent-up energy, lay down a tarp with a ten yard clearance.

Asexuality has been the subject of very few scientific studies which has led to speculation about why some people feel no sexual attraction.

“There are people who definitely view it as a disorder and are like ‘oh if we give you these pills we can fix it’. Or people who ask you ‘have you had your hormones checked’, as though that’s the obvious solution,” says Jenni.

Maybe Jenni really is clinically asexual. Maybe her brain is missing a few synapses. I can abide that possibility. Or maybe, she feels no sexual attraction because all she dates are betas. In which case, one date with an insensitive jerk who isn’t an uuuuunderstanding wet noodle should clear her condition right up.

“And then you get people who go one step worse, and I have been asked before if I had been molested as a child, which is not an appropriate question to ask somebody to be honest, and also I haven’t been. It was the assumption that ‘hey you have something wrong with you, clearly you were molested as a child’ is just such a terrible attitude to have.”

This is the problem with the modern, equalist society: nothing is wrong with anything. Hey, sweetcheeks, there is something wrong with you. Evolutionarily speaking, there is something very wrong with you. Instead of demanding people pretend you’re normal, embrace your wrongness. Wear it proudly, you princess of deviancy, you queen of crazy.

Let’s have a look at the tense couple.

Now perhaps there’s a chance Timmy is getting some nookie on the side, when he’s away from this sexless cipher. That would mitigate his betaness somewhat. (Only somewhat, because every second with her is a second stripped from more fulfilling endeavors.) I doubt it, though. Look at his face. His pinched, “walk all over me” expression. This is a guy who nurses a secret hard-on every time she hugs him, then rushes home five hours later to drain himself into a couch crease. The least she could do, if sex isn’t her thing and she values his cuddly wuddlies, is give him a tug job to completion. But she never will, because, ultimately, chicks like her are selfish cunts. And when a selfish cunt meets a selfless dweeb, the penis loses.

BOTM: Timmy and his taunted testicles

Read Full Post »

2009 Beta Of The Year Winner!

After a year of collecting reader submissions for the most nauseating example of sack shriveling betatude the world over, a Beta of the Year ”winner” has finally been announced! Based on popular vote, the winner of the 2009 BOTY is…..

Conor, the facsimile of a man who allowed a woman to walk all over him, bought a place for her and him, paid all her bills, and upon discovering her cheating responded in the only way an unrepentant beta could: by asking her what he could do to make her love him. Really, that sort of response is just pure essence of beta.

You can read the full story in this post (candidate #3). Congratulations go to reader Patrick for the winning 2009 BOTY submission. You, sir, with your keen ear for the sorriest specimens of manhood to walk the earth, have just won yourself a skeleton key to the boudoir of my Montreal harem, and a beer on me.

Read Full Post »

The 2009 Beta Of The Year Vote

The twelve ignominious betas for each month of 2009 have been declared by popular vote and now it is time for you, the readers, to vote for a final winner from among those twelve for the Beta of the Year contest. Consider carefully the candidates below before casting your vote for the one man to mewl them all, because the 2009 BOTY will represent in one ingloriously distilled beta everything that is most loathsome about the current configuration of modern man — the white knighters, the wool pullers, the self-deluding, the pedestalers, the manginas, the herbs, the nancyboys, the castrati, the party line platitudinizers, the phony equalists, and the oneitis chumps. He will serve as a warning to other men and a valuable lesson for boys on their way into manhood, and through his example will guide them away from the path of self-immolation and into the light of the truth about not only the nature of women, but the nature of their own behavior in the company of women. Not to mention, the BOTY is a handy touchstone for future scholars searching for reasons why the West fell into ruin so suddenly and catastrophically.

If you want to read the individual stories behind each of the BOTM winners, just click on the “Beta of the Year Contest” link under the ”Select Category” pull-down menu in the righthand column.

I’ve included the names of the readers who submitted the winning BOTMs in parentheses in the voting choices. The winning submission for 2009 BOTY will be announced in the coming days.

On to the final vote:

Read Full Post »

December 2009 Beta Of The Month

The final candidate of 2009! Tomorrow we reveal the contest for the Beta of the Year.

Last month’s winner, by a healthy margin, was a cuckold who asked his cheating girlfriend on a call-in radio program how he could “make her love him more”. She told him, in essence, to grow a pair, but he proved unable to escape his beta hell vortex. Congratulations to reader Patrick for submitting that vomitous entry.

December coughed up a bumper crop of holiday betas. Must be those long winter nights.

***

December 2009 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by reader Marko. Fittingly for the times, our featured beta is the cuckold of one of Tiger Woods’ many mistresses. What astounds about this man was how willfully blind he was when his girlfriend informed him that Tiger had given her his number. Just how little does a woman have to respect a man to decide it’s perfectly harmless to tell him a really famous billionaire jock gave her his number? She probably figured he was such a rabid fan of Mr. Woods’ talent for driving to the hole that he wouldn’t put two and two together. She was right.

Derek, 28, a golf fan who used to idolise Woods, said: “I was a massive Tiger fan. I had Tiger Woods memorabilia all over my house and even collected Tiger Woods videos.

“On the night Jamie met him for the first time, I had just bought the new Tiger Woods computer game. The following morning she told me she had met Tiger Woods and he gave her his number – and like an idiot I got really excited about it.

“I even asked her if she could call him so I could get my computer game signed.

“I knew Tiger had come on to her and asked for her number. I knew that he called her whenever he came to Las Vegas.

But she insisted that nothing was going on.”

Self-delusion is likely an evolved trait in humans, but in some people it seems to have evolved beyond the point of usefulness.

Derek said: “She told me she got called over by a ­bouncer who said someone ­important wanted to meet her in the VIP room.

“She said she did not know it was Tiger Woods until she was brought to his table. He ­immediately started ­hitting on her and telling her she was ­beautiful. She told me he asked for her number and gave her his.

“I was surprised because I knew he was married and I didn’t think he was that type of guy. But I trusted Jamie. We had been engaged for over a year then – having first started dating in 2002 – and were head over heels in love.”

The only thing preventing most men from being “that type of guy” is 1. lack of options and 2. violence from aggrieved parties. In modern Western society, number 1 is the primary brake on expressions of pure love. Sure, religion plays some role in curbing the basest instincts of men and women, but the old school hardcore precepts of religion are on the way out, Walmart-ized evangelical fervor notwithstanding to the contrary.

As for the issue of trust, as Reagan so memorably put it, “Trust but verify.” (Commie pinkos and women, more in common than you’d imagine.) I’m no cynic. I bet that Derek and Jamie were head over heels in love when she had her fortuitous encounter with Woods. But, you know, a better deal has a way of putting the vice to virtue.

My favorite quote is the last:

Derek, who is now engaged to another woman, said: “I think Tiger is a great ­competitor on the golf course, but away from it he is a horrible person.

“He should have more respect for himself and his family. I am certainly not a fan of his any more.”

Now that’s alpha. Tear down that life-sized poster of Tiger Woods, Mister Derek!

What saves this guy from the pit of omegatude is his (putatively) wise decision to cut Jamie out of his life and start fresh with a new woman. Or maybe Jamie dumped him after Derek refused to get cross with her for her philandering? The mind reels at the excruciating possibilities.

On a related note, reader Cannon’s Canon wrote:

derek schmidt definitely got played, but really though, what was his alpha move? i don’t think the party line of amused mastery is gonna cut it against a billionaire athlete that she knows you already jock. the only thing i can think of is deleting the number from her phone yourself with a strongarm move, then initiating two hours of domineering jackhammer sex, perhaps in an unconventional room to drill it into her memory. enough to knock her out of commission for a day or so, numbing those gina tingles. this may also have to become standard fare for a while.

so how do you AMOG tiger woods? start playing fight night instead??

Good points. When the AMOG is light years above you in status, and is in fact someone you practically worship, amused mastery won’t save you. A cocky smirk is not going to keep, let’s say, George Clooney, were he so inclined, from seducing and bedding your loyal girl. My advice for handling this  presumably rare scenario, given that you want to run some game on the girl to see if you can turn it around, is to hit her up with a straight shot of the truth:

“Tiger Woods gave you his number last night? Unless proven otherwise, you are a cheater. Here’s the deal. You delete his number and change your phone number so he can never contact you again, or I leave. Before you make your deicsion, let me remind you that should you choose Woods, he will fuck you a few more times then tire of you as he moves onto another concubine in his rotation of regulars. He will never marry you. He will never make you a princess. You will never be more than a whore in his parade of whores. I, on the other hand, once gone am gone for good. I’ll give you fifteen mintues alone to make your deicsion.”

But really, phone number exchange with a celebrity should be instant grounds for dumping a chick. Even if she didn’t cheat with him (unlikely), visions of his celebuface will be dancing in her head every time you two make love.

***

December 2009 BOTM Candidate #2 was submitted by reader Ninja Duck. We’ve had a few stories like this one before, but none were as over the top beta as this guy. Ugly, cheating wife drugs, stabs and slits the throat of peabody puffboy husband, then goes to jail. Annnnnd… wait for it… he still loves her. Is it possible to have standards below zero?

A husband whose wife tried to kill him by slitting his throat after plying him with a sex drug said today he still loved her and wanted her freed from prison.

Peter Hale, 43, spoke out after seeing his wife, Joanne, sentenced to six years’ jail after being found guilty of attempted murder.

Hale, 39, was having an ‘affair’ with a married man when she gave Peter a sex drug called ‘Horny Goat Weed’ and lured him to woodland in Bristol. There she cut his throat and stabbed him in the chest before running off.

There is so much wrong with this article. Check out this quote:

Mr Hale was present in court today and was thanked by the judge for supporting his wife.

Maybe I’m missing some important legal precedent here, but why is the judge thanking Hale for “supporting” his deranged, fugly, homicidal whoring wife? Shouldn’t the judge be admonishing Hale to sack up and stop giving aid and comfort to someone who tried to kill him? To go find himself a better woman instead of white knighting like a chump for a waste of flesh? To stop loving someone who so obviously despises him? I guess I’m just not that enlightened in the emanations and penumbras of society’s progressive jurisprudence.

Or maybe there are too many milquetoast manginas in the legal profession.

After the case, Mr Hale said: ‘I hope that she is out as soon as possible. My evidence was very confused and I hope that we have grounds for an appeal. I still love her very much.

‘I am pleased with the comments of the judge and the sentence is probably the best we could have hoped for.’

The court heard that Hale, who has been in custody for 239 days, had made two attempts on her life since being arrested.

Mr Hale had written numerous letters to the court in which he repeated that the incident was not his wife’s fault and that he was willing to forgive her.

He also said his life without her was terrible and he was still deeply in love with her.

“My evidence was very confused”? It’s worse than I thought. So not only does he continue to love his would-be killer, he is working hard to reduce her sentence so that he can sooner leap into her flabby arms to deliver a comforting hug of forgiveness. I can almost hear his words now, as he struggles to allay her guilt for slitting his throat: “No really, honeybunny, I understand you were under a lot of stress. I wasn’t keeping up my end of the chores, or taking you out on romantic dinners. But that’s all going to change now. And let me just add how beautiful it is the way the moonlight sparkles in your pig-like eyes.”

A number of letters from friends handed to the court said Hale was ‘a kind and caring person who would do anything for anyone’.

There’s your problem right there, buddy.

***

December 2009 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by reader Hitbids. Remember my early post about envisioning all your communications with a girl on a giant Jumbotron screen for mass public viewing? The idea is a simple one. If your words of love would elicit cringes from a studio audience, you are probably doing it wrong. If, on the other hand, you would not be embarrassed by a public viewing of your emails or phone convos or text messages with a girl you are trying to bed, you can be assured she is getting turned on. Well, this candidate failed the Jumbotron test spectacularly. It’s long so I won’t quote it here (I can’t seem to copy/paste from that site anyhow), but you can read the whole thing over here. Quaff an antacid before diving in. It’s a text exchange between a recently dumped man and the ex with whom he’s trying to reinitiate sex. I liked the part when he texted her a random message about the weather forecast. Maybe you ladies are unaware, but when a man texts completely random shit about stuff you know he can’t possibly care about, he’s just worming his way onto your attention radar for eventual sex.

Here’s my favorite line from the dude:

Have you felt the need of getting intimate again? Im at that stage where I feel I can do almost anything! I can be between your legs for as long as you want.

How about 50 years? Because, you know, he’s the kind of guy who won’t have anything else going on.

The chick does not go without blame. She strings him along when she could have simply not responded to any of his attempts at contact. Women like to cry victim in these situations, but the truth is that a lot of them love the attention and power tripping they can get from toying with a needy beta. They’re simultaneously repulsed and addicted to the clumsy pursuits of the sex starved man. Regardless of her complicity, he should know better than to feed her ego, so he earns a spot at the BOTM table.

Also note the girl says she gets turned off by emoticons, something I have admonished against as well.

***

The voting:

Read Full Post »

November 2009 Beta Of The Month

We’re getting near the end of the year when the final beta — the One Beta to rule them all — is voted upon for inclusion into the pussywhipped Hall of Infamy. Last month’s winner, sent in by reader waysa, was the Croatian tennis “pro” (loosely defined) who begged and pleaded not just for sex, but for marriage!, from a has-been single mom cougar. Let’s hope for the Croat’s sake he was angling for the future divorce payday from his wealthy older lady lover.

November 2009 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by Mike (“Anonymous” technically got there first, but any submission signed anonymously is excluded from receiving props). A picture tells a thousand words:

The great thing about this picture is that no matter what the reason for this unfortunate man’s prostration, his action sullies him with the mark of the beta. And a really nauseating beta at that. If he lost a bet, he is a beta for playing poor odds that would result in him paying up in such a pathetic manner. If it’s a fetish, then this is proof that some fetishes are the domain of losers. If you must have a fetish, make it something alpha like collaring your woman. Beta fetishes: peeping tom/voyeurism, flashing, bang my wife, wearing women’s skin as suit and tucking junk between legs. Alpha fetishes: BDSM, amateur porn filmmaking, public sex, ceiling mirrors, saying “giggity” when you successfully close the deal.

If he’s doing it as penance for some horrible relationship transgression, he wins alpha points for the transgression but immediately gives them back and then some for agreeing to this form of punishment. If he’s doing it as a clownish joke to get on the internet, well… there are some self-deprecating jokes that you should never do. Good rule of thumb: If the Jackass guys won’t do it, neither should you.

If this photo portrays exactly what is happening — a sackless boyfriend dropping to hands and knees so his tired girlfriend can sit on him and humiliate him in public — then the beta on display here is so strong it defies explanation.

******

November 2009 BOTM Candidate #2 was submitted by Ross W. Have you ever wondered what happens when an inborn beta becomes a little too aggressively creepy in his pursuit of a taken woman? Well now, thanks to Lamebook, you can read a stellar example of just such a specimen.

I’m not going to categorize all the ways this guy Andrew misunderstands the nature of women. Suffice to say, he fails the Jumbotron test. Spectacularly.

By the way, Carla’s reply was better than Lee’s. Brevity is the soul of spit.

******

November 2009 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by Patrick. It’s a radio broadcast of a “War of the Roses” prank that features a cuckolded man literally begging his cheating live-in girlfriend to stay with him. Listen to the whole thing but pay particular attention starting at -02:50.

I honestly had a hard time making it through to the end, it was that bad. If I had to distill the beta essence in a few words, it would be “What can I do to make you love me?” Which is what this pathetic cur says. Over and over. Even after being told his mewling is not helping his cause.

The problem with betas is that they believe in the promise of hope instead of the disenchantment of reality. Listen to this guy closely. He finds all this evidence that his GF is cheating — the birth control, the new lingerie, the Facebook emails — and yet he continues nurturing hope that she isn’t doing what he knows deep inside she’s doing, and that she still has the capacity to love him. Hope is the great alpha killer, the destroyer of masculinity, the betrayer of dignity. It serves one purpose only — to trick you away from the path of righteous self interest. Weak people cling to hope. But hope is a faint siren song; as soon as you taste some success you will forget all about hope and wallow in the delights of reality.

Besides serving as cruel amusement for the coliseum, there is another very good reason for publicly shaming these wretched betas: their needy behavior feeds the treachery of women, which in turn poisons the well for every other man making his way in the mating market. By refusing to confront his bitch whore girlfriend in the only way that would earn any respect from her (and respect from women is measured in the oscillation of their tingle wavelength), the man in this radio clip unwittingly contributes to the romantic feelings between his girlfriend and her lover. Freed from the threat of his anger or his ultimatums or even his awareness, she is able to nourish her illicit love affiair with the thrill of secrecy and dangerous rendezvous. As we all know about women, a little mystery and taboo goes a long way to infusing a man with allure. You want your unfaithful girlfriend to really get the most out of her affair? Simple. Just play the fool and let her sneak around like a tramp in the night, her lover’s embrace made all the more compelling by the transgressive narrative. But confront her and leave her, and suddenly her lover is not so intriguing anymore.

There’s a reason women despise men like this guy Conor from the radio clip. When a woman cheats on you she does not want to hear that you still love her. All that tells her is that you have low standards and an even lower expectation that you could do better. It also confirms her suspicion that you love her for no other reason than the sex that she provides. Of course, alpha males also love for those shallow reasons, but they are smart enough to know that love can’t be requested. It must be earned.

******

The voting:

Read Full Post »

October 2009 Beta Of The Month

Gentlemen, grab your cat o’ nine tails because we’re in for another round of beta lashings. Deliver these betas from their trespasses and lead them not unto self-constructed torment. Sweet, sweet deliverance.

It was a tight race, but the winner by a plurality of the September 2009 BOTM was the sad sack husband who is aware of and tolerates his wife’s repeatedly consorting with serial killer Richard Ramirez. Tolerance is such a beta virtue. Congratulations, sir, for helping to teach men the world over that the way to a woman’s heart is through an ear to ear throat slit. Preferably more than once.

October 2009 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by Johnny Gage.

Amusing? Yeah, sure. Will make other women go “Awwww”? Probably. Beta? You beta believe it!

Just because something is attention grabbing, doesn’t mean you should do it. Anyone want to bet this guy’s wife rocks 200+ pounds?

******

October 2009 BOTM Candidate #2 was gleefully submitted by waysa. It’s a New York Beta Times wedding story about a Croatian tennis pro who threw away his alpha capital by marrying an older single mom. Just flushed it right down the toilet. There are so many great quotes in this article. Let’s examine the kind of prize that tennis pro Marko Zelenovic foolishly decided to hitch his Croat balls to:

At 18, [Brooke ALexander] arrived in New York on a one-way plane ticket. By the time she was 39, she had a successful career as a model and soap opera actress, a sunny one-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side and a big circle of friends she calls her ‘ohana (Hawaiian for family). Yet she yearned to be a mother, and was known to wear a T-shirt with the message, “I can’t believe I forgot to have children.”

She was the last person anyone thought would be single at 39. “Why would this gorgeous, talented, amazing woman be alone?” said Bill Block, a film producer and friend. “She loved the rockers, the great-looking bad boys, and they never panned out.”

She’s like a character straight out of a CH novel, except I didn’t make her up.

But wait, it gets better.

She forged ahead and joined Single Mom by Choice, an organization that guides single women through the process of becoming mothers. “I knew we’re given one life and if there’s something incredibly important to you and there’s an open door, go through it and give it everything you got,” Ms. Alexander said. The organization helped her find a sperm donor and on Jan. 8, 2004, she gave birth to a son, Jace, in a room full of female friends. “I wasn’t alone,” she said. “I just didn’t have a husband.”

When Jace was a year old, Ms. Alexander started thinking about dating again. She placed an online ad, which was a disillusioning experience.

Disillusioning? You don’t say? Now I wonder why (40s) she would have such trouble (40s, bastard kid) finding a guy willing to stick around (40s, bastard kid, fucked in the head yupster)?

The dude she eventually lucked out with (and I mean she hit the goddamn lottery. She should be making nightly sacrifices to the god of biomechanics.):

Then, in November 2005, a friend said she wanted to introduce her to Marko Zelenovic, a handsome tennis pro from Croatia who is known among his clients as the Croatian Sensation.

Her friend persuaded her to have lunch with Mr. Zelenovic. “He was in a banquette, facing the wall, not looking around the room,” Ms. Alexander, now 46, recalled. “He was a gentleman, waiting for his date.”

Paper alpha.

“I was very aware of the first time his knee pressed up against mine,” she said. “It was like two magnets connected.”They were rarely apart after that. “I spent a lot of money on baby sitters,” she said.

Future juvenile delinquent and paint huffer.

He moved into her apartment soon after they met, where he slept on her couch for three years, out of respect for Jace.

Wait, isn’t the kid like, 2 years old at this point? What kid that young will understand the concept of respect, or even what goes on in his mother’s bedroom? Jesus, the New York Beta Times knows how to induce projectile vomiting.

“The love I have for Marko is very quiet, very deep and very rooted,” Ms. Alexander said.

Ever notice how the most high-falutin’ pseudo-profound words are used to describe the most strained, mature sort of love? Real heart-squeezing and gut-rending love, the kind that feels like a drug, is never described in this way by young people who are actually experiencing it. I’m reminded again how often “grown-up” dating and falling in love resembles a business proposition rather than an electric emotional rollercoaster.

Mr. Zelenovic says he fell in love with Ms. Alexander because of Jace, not in spite of him. “Honest to God, Jace was an asset,” he said. “The kid, for me, is pure joy. He’s someone I want to be with all the time.”

Still, Ms. Alexander admits she “put Marko through the paces” and “spent about a year analyzing whether or not he was a fit role model for my son.”

The exquisite betatude of the nonjudgemental cuckold in waiting. It’s a self-parody. There’s something wrong with this Croat that the NYBTimes isn’t telling us. Mentally unbalanced? Broke? Micropenis? The truth is out there.

Can it get more pathetic? Yes, it can:

He brought up the subject of marriage a few times; she always changed the subject. “It was like, what is holding me back?” Ms. Alexander said. “It was the mother wolf. It was really hard for me to give up my single motherhood and let Marko in.”

No one ever went broke underestimating the betaness of the man who repeatedly begs for marriage. From a cougar. With cub.

The couple are now expanding their apartment into a two-bedroom. Mr. Zelenovic said he told his bride, “I’ve spent three NBA seasons on your couch. I’m not spending a fourth.”

Oh, you will be dude. At least you’ve gotten plenty of practice.

******

October 2009 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by Cless Alvein. It’s a Youtube video about Establishedmen.com, an internet website that brings wealthy older men together with hot young women. The proprietor of the website is a good-looking chick who is essentially a pimp. She kind of has a face that makes me want to punch her in the mouth. See if you agree with me.

I was hesitant to include this submission, because the beta rolls would be filled with millions of men if we included every guy who spends money on hookers (which is basically what the girls in this video are). But watch from 6:35 onward. You’ll get a glimpse at what a true paper alpha is — a conventionally alpha man (powerful, wealthy) who has no game and instead lavishes insipid compliments like “you’re gorgeous” and must spend tens of thousands of dollars over the first three dates to get any action. This is the all-too-often accurate face of the well-to-do man who solicits prostitutes — alpha in his dealings with men, beta in his dealings with women.

While it’s not necessarily beta to pay for sex, it is a leading indicator of betaness. If you are a wealthy man with money to burn, it makes sense to dump a wad of cash on a woman to pry open her legs with the minimal effort, but you should never comport yourself like a beta. Go ahead and buy the whore expensive jewelry if it gets you off, but always do so with an alpha demeanor. This ensures two things: One, if you lose your money you’ll have womanizing skills to fall back on, and, two, if you act like an alpha there is a good chance the whore might truly fall in love with you and not just your wallet.

******

The voting:

Note: Reader “Nicker” had emailed me a video of a pasty-face, plump-lipped, fat guy expressing his undying love and devotion for his girlfriend who was away. It was, without a doubt, the MOST sickeningly beta thing I have seen or heard about in years, and that is saying a lot. I believe he would have run away with the Beta of the Year contest. Unfortunately, just days after I viewed the video, fat dude pulled it. If any reader happens to know what video I’m talking about and has it saved somewhere, please email it to me. What a shame that such beautiful betaness should be denied the world’s mockery.

Read Full Post »

September 2009 Beta Of The Month

Esteemed members of the Chateau, we have our first four-way Beta of the Month Battle. These “men”, and I use the term loosely, are doozies.

First, the winner of the August 2009 BOTM, by the biggest margin yet recorded for BOTM, was wealthy WASP (white anglo-saxon pud) caricature Topper, who graciously inquired of the European aristocrat boning his wife Tinsley to kindly cease violating her so he could work out his marital problems with the ho he loves.

Topper, old sport, the beta is strong in you. If you had done what I said and motorboated a stripper at Scores you’d have walked away from all this with your dignity intact.

September 2009 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by reader collegeboy. It’s a video submission featuring a beta, a bitch, a ring, and a slap. Intrigued? Watch the vid!

If you can’t see this youtube video, you can catch it at this link as well.

On the face of it, it’s just a simple proposal. Proposals themselves aren’t prima facie evidence of betaness, although they are leading indicators. So what pushes this publicly humiliated man into BOTM territory? Let us count the ways.

1. He proposed in front of a large public audience. Proposing should be regarded as a moment of surrender — of temporary enfeeblement — for a man. It should be done, quickly and stoically, in private. It should not be executed in front of thousands for the world to join you in your shame.
2. He proposed at a sporting event, a house of manly repute. It’s not only dorky to propose at sport games, but it is beta to sully such a sanctum with the pedestalization of pussy.
3. He sorta got down on one knee. For krissakes guys, if you’re gonna propose, DO NOT under any circumstance drop to one knee. It’s romantic in the movies when a vampire does it; in real life you are emasculating yourself. Subcommunicated body language matters.
4. In what was probably his biggest transgression of the alpha code, he couldn’t stop stroking her shoulder like she was a cat being petted. He was panicked she might say no, and shoulder stroking to build false comfort seemed to him, I’m sure, his only available option. Is there anything more repulsive than a man trying to manufacture closeness with an uncooperative woman through forced physical displays of tender affection? It’s on par with literally licking off the bird shit that landed on your girlfriend’s six inch heeled boots, or shitting on a plate and then smearing the turd all over your face in a ritualistic sacrifice to the gods to make your ex-girlfriend love you again.
5. After he got slapped, it looked like he cried. I would’ve shoved a hot dog in the bitch’s piehole.

******

September 2009 BOTM Candidate #2 was submitted by longtime reader dave from hawaii. Before I write anything about this candidate, you need to go to his website and poke around. Be sure to click on the “Read the Blog” button at the bottom. Bring a barf bag.

You may wonder if a radical, facially hirsute feminist who hasn’t seen dick since her stepdad woke her up in the middle of the night is responsible for this website and the book ‘The Problem with Women… is Men’ that the website hawks. After all, there are pictures of pigs all over the place, and pithy quotes such as the following:

Cheating is a choice.

Women who don’t speak their minds… die.

Why porn is teaching your man bad habits in bed.

I wish I could tell you that a man-hating dyke wrote this. But the author is a man named Charles J. Orlando who has written for such ostensibly male-oriented mags like Men’s Health. Woofa. Is it a joke? Does this flapjack sacked simulacra of a man really believe what he writes, or is he playing an advanced seduction strategy of sneaky fucker feminist ego assuaging and alpha male undermining? You be the judge. Whatever his motives, there’s no denying he’s tainted himself with the mark of the beta.

******

September 2009 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by reader chris. It’s a guy named Marc (note the fruity substitute of “c” for “k”) who wrote an article posted at the fembot website that rhymes with “facial pissing” titled “My experience with a prostitute – a feminist perspective“.

First, any man who uncoercedly calls himself a feminist has announced his resignation from the order of manhood. I don’t care if you’ve spent 1,000 tours in Iraq and scalped terrorists for shits and giggles, you lop of your nuts when you sign onto the feminist agenda. Please turn yourself into soylent beta. You aren’t moral, you aren’t enlightened, you aren’t open-minded. You’re just a laughable tool.

So what sets this guy apart from the battalions of betas who solicit hookers to unceremoniously spurt their tepid loads? Well, one, he spent an hour of his valuable time chatting up a woman and bringing her to his room not knowing she was a whore, and then feeling bad about wasting *her time*. And, two, after he found out she was a hooker, he paid her… TO TALK TO HIM.

Having already wasted an hour of her time, with her assuming I knew she was an escort (a term she says she prefers), I made a deal: while I was most certainly sexually attracted to her, my values wouldn’t allow me to actually pay to have sex with her. I would, however, pay for her time to listen to her story and learn something from a group of people I’ve spent to much learning about, yet never had never actually sat down and spoken with.

So there we sat, in my hotel room, and over Jack Daniels, talked about her life, choices and perspectives.

Your values are useless self-flagellating detritus, dude. No Being of Infinite Light hovering just above the cloud cover is giving you heavenly credits for denying yourself sex with a whore. Fuck when you can, because it is good.

You may think paying a whore to chew off your ear with her sad sack tales of woe would be the height of beta, but wait, there’s more.

At the end of our conversation, I gave her a hug and asked permission to write about her. She agreed and we exchanged contact information, so that when my vacation is over, I can do a more in depth interview and write about her.

My god below, there’s another David Alexander roaming the earth.

So what was the valuable life lesson Marc learned from this experience?

In the end, the sex work debate is immaterial because unless we take care of other problems and challenges – violence against women, healthcare for all people, and providing young women and men with the access to education they need, we are failing to provide women with the variety of choices they deserve in enhancing their own lives, and as a result, we have no rights to make a stand on the sex work industry, other than supporting them with the choices they make.

By the way, I am currently in Orlando for my last week of vacation. If there are awesome feminists in the UCF/Orlando area, I’d love to be shown around or have a drink. Let me know!

He won’t get any bites. Read the comments. Even the fembots think this guy is Too Beta To Nail.

******

September 2009 BOTM Candidate #4 was submitted by reader entrepoon (great handle). It’s the touching story of the husband of a woman who falls in love with the serial killer Richard Ramirez, the infamously alpha “Night Stalker”. Does hubby demand she stop visiting the killer at his prison? Ah, if he did that he wouldn’t be up for BOTM.

Some of them write to him or visit him, including a 30-year-old woman from Washington. The woman, who did not want to be identified by The Chronicle, said most relatives don’t know about her relationship with Ramirez, although her disapproving husband does.

She said she started writing to the Night Stalker – a habit that sometimes exceeded 20 letters a week and frequent visits – because she was fascinated with his case.

20 letters a week and frequent visitations, some of them likely conjugal. Her “disapproving” husband knows about her “relationship” with Ramirez. Aaaaand, he does… nothing? He just allows it to go on and on? Does a beta shit in his pants?

For laughs, here’s another quote from the very typical killer-loving woman:

“He is good looking and I loved his big hands,” she said of Ramirez. “The thrill of danger of going up to a state penitentiary made it all worth it because to me it was like a dream come true to face one of the world’s most feared men.

“Like my mom used to say, you can love someone but you don’t have to like them,” she says.

We’ve got a DefCunt 1 gina tingle alert. The second quote is a perfect distillation of the animal female soul. A slight re-wording for clarity: “You can love someone especially if you don’t like them.” The news is out – chicks love unlikeable assholes with big, flesh ripping hands.

Take-home lesson: If your wife is consorting with a serial killer, get your finances in order, get a lawyer, compile evidence, and kick the filthy bitch to the curb. Leave your kicking foot hanging in mid-air for a second for dramatic flair. That’s the kind of thing sweet memories are made of.

******

The voting:

Read Full Post »

August 2009 Beta Of The Month

The crack team of Chateau Beta of the Month researchers took a couple weeks off, so the August 2009 BOTM is tardy. Or fashionably late, if you prefer the reframe.

The winner of the July 2009 BOTM, by a wide margin, was Travis D’arby, the SWPL self-parody who can’t figure out why his wife has so many male Facebook friends, and why she won’t accept his friend invitation. She also has the gall to tell him, when he confronts her with the evidence, to keep his beta nose out of her business. They of course talk it out over dinner like the sophisticated urbane couple they are and come to some sort of closure involving ”love and understanding” which, in chick language, translates as “the wife continues fucking around on her pathetic husband while he respects her privacy to fuck around on him.”

Congratulations, Travis, your balls have now been shipped to the nearest Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum for display. Electron microscope required for viewing. And you can stop bobbing your head in the car to “It’s Raining Men”.

August 2009 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by reader Billy Blaze and tells the story of a high society blueblood who proves that wealth and social status aren’t enough to shield a man from collapsing into a beta black hole of his own making.

Topper was in Florida for the wedding of one of his longtime moneyed bros. Tinsley, the little trollop, was supposed to join him later at the rehearsal dinner and bring shoes for him to wear. That’s where the trouble started.

In case it isn’t clear, Topper is the man, Tinsley is his wife. You’ve gotta love the faggy and princessy names the upper class gives to their kids. Just as mockable as ghetto and hillbilly names.

Anyhow, Tinsley texted Topper (sounds like the name of a chick flic) to inform him she couldn’t make it to the rehearsal dinner. That’s because Tinsley was busy getting banged out by a European aristotrash.

Tinsley had run off to get boned by a German aristocrat/prince named Casimir Wittgenstein-Sayn, news Topper shared with some of the couple’s friends.

Topper e-mailed his friends to explain: “I know I have involved you guys in our problems and that was wrong. Tinsley is at fault of course but Casi [sic] never gave her a chance to breathe even when I asked him to give us space. He was manipulative and overbearing. I love my wife and we are going to do what we can to salvage this marriage.”

Did you get that? Topper discovers his wife’s infidelity and the guy she’s doing it with, and responds in a most manly fashion by kindly asking the good European gentleman to refrain for a time from drilling Tinsley so that he can work on his marriage, i.e. beg her to come back and give him a reason to go on living.

Topper’s plans for the future include, you guessed it, rushing to forgive his cheap whore of a wife and living out his lonely days in a self-imposed torment of soulripping introspection.

He’s become a full-time smoker. He’s lost weight. He wakes up at precisely 3:25 every morning and plays over and over the reality show his life became. Still, he hasn’t entirely abandoned the idea that she’ll come back. “I love my wife” is all he’ll tell me.

Topper, old sport, you’ve got money, status and youth. Admit that your wife is a filthy whore, stop thinking about her, go to Scores and get yourself a hot stripper for some fun. Whatever you do, don’t cry about your wife to her. Cause she ain’t coming back, although if she catches news of you boffing a stripper she might consider it.

******

August 2009 BOTM Candidate #2 was submitted by Willard Libby. It’s an article about a supremely emasculated man’s wife who started a blog not five months into their marriage to chronicle her husband’s annoying habits. Or, in words this blog’s readers could better appreciate, to utterly humiliate him in public. You can see her blog here.

For his part, [Tiffanie] Wong’s husband, WPIX-TV reporter Mark Joyella, sees the humor in his wife’s blog and has no problem with the outside world knowing of his foibles.

“To me, it’s kind of a tribute to all husbands,” said Joyella, 43, who works for the weekend show “Toni On! New York.”

“I’m sure all husbands have their own quirks.”

Some of Joyella’s most annoying habits, according to his wife’s blog, include his love of fart jokes, the fact he wears the same zip-up green sweater in every family photograph and his inability to figure out the TV remote.

“I’ll ask him to record a show for me and it ends up being Univision or something,” Wong said.

“Have you seen that remote?” Joyella countered. “It has like 50 buttons on it.”

Wong (notice she didn’t take his name) says she loves her husband, but how much longer can she go on feeling love for a man she castrates every day in front of an anonymous public audience cheering on her every revelation? Mark Joyella, for his part, seems like a happy-go-lucky goofball who’s masochistically enjoying the infamy, but he should be careful; aloofness will only buy him so much time. Eventually, a wife who doesn’t respect you enough to keep your dirty laundry private will begin loathing your betaness. Her gina tingles will roam in search of stronger cock antennae.

******

August 2009 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by reader West Coast Life. It’s about Sheryl Weinstein, the married woman who had a yearlong affair with Ponzi King Bernie Madoff sixteen years ago. She has just written an opportunistic book about her time as Madoff’s mistress, and in the interview linked to she describes how her husband reacted to her book.

How have your husband and son reacted to the book?
Well, my husband read most of the book. My son hasn’t read it, but he has been very loving and very, very supportive. My husband has also been supportive. It’s something that happened 16 years ago. [My marriage] was a 21-year relationship; the affair lasted about a year or a year and a half. [So] it wasn’t like, “Surprise, I’ve been having an affair for 20 years.” It was more like, “Surprise, I had an affair 15 or 16 years ago.” We’ve really worked hard on our marriage since then, and things have come around, but this really terrible thing happened to us.

Note the sleight of sophistry this cunt is attempting. Her son could despise her, but I’m sure she’s sufficiently self-deluded to believe he’s “very loving and very, very supportive”. And her husband is supportive? Either he’s prudently and cynically encouraging the success of his cheating wife’s book to restock the family’s lost finances, or he’s a beta so thoroughly beaten down in spirit that his testicularly shriveled reflex is to forgive and “support” the wrinkled, over-makeupped skank married to him. Either way, he comes off like a pathetic choad, assuming his wife isn’t lying.

That’s a big assumption. Let’s discuss that word “support”. Has any word in the English language been more misused and abused by women? It’s the go-to word whenever guilt pokes its ugly head into the hollowed crevice carved in the rotten soul of a cheating whore. The word sickens me. Almost always when you hear it spoken by someone you can be assured you are getting sprayed on by the chunky vomit of a pity pimp, an energy vampire, or a blame-shifting slut. The next time you hear someone use the word, call them out on it.

“What exactly do you mean by “support”? No one’s calling you out on your bullshit?”

And then you’ve gotta appreciate the shameless refusal to accept accountability shown by the whore:

We’ve really worked hard on our marriage since then, and things have come around, but this really terrible thing happened to us.

“You see, honey, that whole unpleasantness of Madoff’s dick in my pussy was a terrible thing that happened to us. Just some nebulous cosmic force that alighted upon our happy family for which I bear no responsiblity, and for which you are likely equally responsible anyhow. So let’s try and work through it, and with enough hard work on your part in marriage counseling I might see my way to forgiving you.”

Choice cut cunt, here, folks. Brazenly cunty. The dark side of the cunt.

Why did Weinstein write the book?

This must have been a very painful book for you to write. Why did you decide to do it?
The first part was that the investment decisions in my family were my responsibility, so I felt this tremendous guilt and responsibility about what had happened. My motivation was to try to make things better as much as I can, and that sort of meant putting myself out there.

Cha-ching! Is anyone buying her shit? Her husband? When your wife cheats, you kick her out. End of story. Any other course of action that doesn’t involve wicked vengeance will brand you with the badge of the beta for the rest of your life. Now if only the divorce laws would catch up to this eminently fair and just outlook.

******

The voting:

PS: Although it was a popular submission, I didn’t include the guy forced to stand on a DC Metro street corner by his wife and wear a placard confessing his infidelity because it was later revealed to be a local radio station prank.

Read Full Post »