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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The voting: