It happens

Some days back, I published an initial post about Anthony Colpo and was intending to leave it at that; but then there was an email barrage exchange, so I decided to blog about that, with dessert to finish it off (you’ll see what I mean).

The evening after I published my second post, I found myself wrestling with some unsettled feelings. I had a restless night, waking up in the morning feeling less than stellar, and lacking the clarity I needed about the path I had intended to take. My initial goal was to make Anthony Colpo lose some sleep (ironic), but I felt a growing reluctance to engage in a tit-for-tat internet flame war, regardless of whether he would retaliate or let it be. The point wasn’t about him taking it up or not; it was about me feeling like I was just doing the same old shit he does, over and over, to other people. The excuse of “I’m just giving him his own medicine” was unsatisfying to me because that’s not who I am, nor how I operate.

So, I went to my computer and changed the status of the post from ‘published’ to ‘draft’. Essentially, I took it down without deleting it, giving myself time to chew on the whole situation.

Serendipitously, something happened that day which gave me pause. I got wind of something about another long-time former friend—someone I’ve known since way back in ’94-95 on the internet.

I met Billy Beck IRL around 2005, and we’ve crossed paths in real space a couple of times since, had numerous phone calls, email exchanges, and so on. Reflecting on this, I thought about how our friendship, broken down a good long time ago, now over a decade, and how he still holds onto it like a typical grudge-holding girl.

Not to disparage women, mind you, but they tend to hold grudges more than men do. Coming from a family where grudges are as rare as hen’s teeth, where my dad and I could tell each other to fuck off one night and make breakfast together the next, I just don’t get it. Men holding grudges? It’s about as unmanly as it gets.

Back in the day, if you had a beef, you challenged to a duel or found a way to move on—not sit around pouting like a little girl. So, here’s the deal with Billy. He preemptively blocked me over a year ago on X. Recently, X changed how blocks work. Still can’t interact, send messages, or comment on posts, but you can see all their posts.

He blocked me because he didn’t want me seeing his posts, but I took a peek anyway and thought, “Yep, still acting like a girl.” And he attracts other men who, like him, have never done anything significant—never created a business, signed a paycheck, nothing. The same goes for Anthony Colpo, who ultimately lives off his mother’s money.

These are the kinds of dudes you find on the internet, constantly going against others, never having created a fucking thing in their lives. But here’s the kicker: both of these clowns are outspoken critics of Andrew Tate who’ll be a billionaire soon enough—even after spending months in a Romanian jail cell (now the bogus case dropped). So, what I’m going to unpack is the psychology of these little girly men who feel the need to tear down men of power, men who have actually built something. They do it in laughable competition with Tate…to attract a bunch of little boys who will never know what real power feels like because they’ll never create it themselves.

They aim to attract the same girls with male genitals.

The difference is, Tate aims to transform them into men. Colpo and Beck aim to keep them right where they are.

Neither Colpo nor Beck did a second in military training. For those who have, this takedown is child’s play.

More later.

This is nothing more than an object lesson, using girls posing as males because they both richly deserve it. They’re brothers from different mothers.