When men treat talking about women like a full-time job—and write laws like it’s a sport—they deserve their own dolls. Toxic politics, bro-coded legislating, and podcast masculinity cosplay? I thought: why not bottle it, brand it, and box it?
So I created the Alpha Collection™— a lovingly savage tribute to the loudest men in the worst rooms. And along the way, I proved something: when I made sarcastic Barbies, it was a breeze. But creating Alpha dolls? Suddenly, I needed Photoshop, workarounds, and about thirty different prompts for each doll just to render a smirk. That’s what gender bias looks like in AI, in tech, and in toys. It’s not just frustrating; it’s revealing. When female satire flows and male critique gets flagged or blocked, it’s not just code, it’s culture. The glass ceiling isn’t only in offices; it’s baked into algorithms. And like always, it protects power while pretending it’s neutral.
Here are some examples of how hard it was to fight the male AI bias:
You get the picture — no prompt accepted, no joke approved.
Apparently, the problem wasn’t the men — it was my ALPHA Doll collection… with receipts.
So I toned it down, glossed it up, and brought them to life anyway.
Commander-in-Cheat™ Alpha
At heart, he’s just a little boy in a big suit—orange-crayon dreams, golden toilet ambitions, and the emotional range of a Duracell rabbit missing its batteries. He loves flags, parades, and anything with his name slapped on it in big golden letters. He doesn’t read briefings, but he feels them. Loudly. And briefly.
Then came the presidency: four years, 38,000 recorded lies, zero accountability. He rewrote reality with a Sharpie, flirted with fascists, and turned narcissism into national policy. Loyalty is sacred—so long as it’s to him.
To the MAGA faithful, he’s more than a man—he’s Jesus in a spray tan. So he held a Bible upside down in front of a church he’d never entered, for a photo he didn’t understand, after having peaceful protesters tear-gassed just out of frame.
He’s not just Commander-in-Cheat.
He’s Messiah-in-Makeup™—and no, he still hasn’t conceded. Not even to gravity.
The Patriot™ Alpha
From Hillbilly Elegy to high-end hypocrisy, JD Vance is the white-picket fence prince of populist cosplay.
Born-again Catholic—converted about five minutes ago, conveniently timed between a campaign stop and a donor dinner. He met the Pope, and shortly after, the Pope chose death. Coincidence? The Vatican is still processing.
A man of the people… with a billionaire sugar daddy.
Born in struggle, reborn in Silicon Valley.
Now he peddles family values and birth rates with a side of gay panic, all while looking like the backup singer in a 2006 eyeliner commercial.
His politics? A purity spiral of whiteness, grievance, and bootstraps—tied neatly by Peter Thiel’s chequebook.
A husband. A father. A warning
The Medical™ Alpha
Heroin? A misunderstood lifestyle choice.
Vaccines? Definitely cause autism.
Measles outbreak? Blame Big Pharma, not bad governing.
He believes COVID was worse for white people—unless you’re Jewish or Chinese, then apparently you’re fine.
Science isn’t broken. Just too woke for Bobby.
Shirtless on beaches, whispering nonsense into microphones, and selling disease denial as political courage.
America’s anti-vax prophet with a jawline—and a vendetta against public health.
Raspier than truth.
Sicker than the virus.
And yes, he wants to make America healthy again. What could possibly go wrong?
The Shirtless™ Alpha
Raised on punishment beatings and 4 am chess drills, he learned early: domination is love, emotions are weakness, and women are NPCS in a game rigged for him—until real life said otherwise.
He claims to have escaped The Matrix—or so he screams from a Romanian compound with dodgy Wi-Fi and pending legal action. His empire? Built on male loneliness, crypto delusions, and $49,90 per month rage sessions disguised as “coaching.”
He didn’t beat the system—he branded victimhood. Preaches independence while running a pyramid scheme. Talks alpha, lives gamma.
Stay in his War Room long enough and you’ll be broke, bald, banned—or the surprise act at the next bareback party. Because the women? They fled five red flags ago.
Bonus point: He blocked me on X for retweeting a picture of his tiny D. Still one of my proudest Social Media Moments. 🏆
The Bronalist™
Face of confusion, voice of doom, and that awful laugh like Ayn Rand wrote a sitcom.
He calls it journalism. I call it performative panic in a suit.
Woke is his safe word. Facts are optional.
He platformed authoritarians, flirted with white supremacy, and somehow made laughter terrifying again.
Fired by Fox, resurrected by fascists.
Now broadcasting from a barn, somewhere between Russia Today and a midlife crisis.
Uncancelled. Unhinged. Unbearable.
The Alpha Against All Odds™
Too loud for America, too British for shame.
Somehow always wrong, yet never in doubt.
He thinks free speech means he talks, and you listen.
Wages war on pronouns before breakfast and screams about trans women in sports like it’s the fall of civilisation—because nuance is for the birds.
He left Good Morning Britain in a huff because accountability felt rude.
Got booted from CNN for being Piers.
Now he hosts Uncensored—a show where, by his own proud admission, “I’m the only boss.
Powered by ego, fueled by outrage, sustained entirely by the sound of his own voice.
Puffed up. Pissed off. Perpetually on air
The Border™ Alpha
Volume: maxed. Facts: muted.
Every sentence screamed like the border just personally insulted him.
Believes deportation is compassion, fear is policy, and microphones are for intimidation, not information.
Wrapped in MAGA, armed with outrage, and powered by Fox News talking points.
Built like a trucker. Thinks like a bumper sticker.
He doesn’t debate. He detonates.
Pauses only to reload.
Law & Border acoustic madness.
The (EX)-Therapist™ Alpha
Father of the male loneliness epidemic.
Big fan of dragons, Machiavelli, and deeply questionable bedtime stories.
Blocked me on X for asking about his pedo poetry. Still proud. 🫡
He fantasises about lobsters, screams about the WOKE, and insists climate change is a hoax, because a weather chart is Marxist propaganda by the LEFT ELITES.
He talks like he’s decoding ancient prophecy, acts like a neurotic patriarch with a God complex and a nasal drip.
Obsessed with the “Dark Triad,” while cosplaying as its fourth member: the Weeping Narcissist™.
A Daily Wire boy with a Jesus fixation that somehow manages to feel both erotic and apocalyptic.
He says everything is a story.
But if the story’s this messy, maybe stop listening to old men.
After he speaks, women run—because being a walking DNA duplicator that looks too sexy with makeup and dares to go to college is apparently the downfall of civilization.
And according to Jordan, every woman over 29 regrets just one thing: not having KIDS.
Fun fact: NOT true.
But hey, it’s “What Happened to Men,” right?
Tidy your room. Cancel this ex-therapist.
And for God’s sake, don’t read the poems!
The SPACE™ Alpha
Self-declared genius. Algorithmic messiah. Natalist cult leader with 14 confirmed kids—and probably a few hundred in beta testing. Wants 5000 children, but only if they’re white, male, and engineered for perfect Daddy exposure on his own platform.
Worried about underpopulation, but just for the white and wealthy.
Threw a Nazi salute onstage, called it a heart gesture, and wondered why the rest of the world gagged.
Bought Twitter, tanked it, renamed it “X” like a midlife crisis in logo form.
Donated millions to Trump, then swerved the algorithm hard right—because when you’re rich and fragile, free speech means you never get criticised.
South African by birth. American by disruption.
Undermines democracy with DOGE, cries about cancel culture while casually disabling public institutions.
Told Joe Rogan the world is broken because of “too much empathy.”
Then cried on his own platform about the left being too mean to billionaires.
And now? The rockets are stalling, the stock’s collapsing, the users are fleeing, and even the baby mamas are glitching.
Thinks he’s saving humanity, but it turns out he’s just the last guy left on X,
talking to himself in all caps
The Signal™ Alpha
Good hair, bad judgment.
TV-ready, scandal-heavy.
Sexual harassment claims? ✅
National security risk? ✅
Unqualified? Perfect—Trump admires him.
The look of a leader.
The résumé of a liability.
More red flags than green facts - naturally the right choice for the Trump administration.
The Broadcaster™ Alpha
Gym-built. Fear-pilled. Convinced curiosity is a personality.
Knows one fact for sure: “Jamie, pull that up.”
Made a career out of asking questions—then forgetting to ask the important second one.
Famously responded “Wow” when Alex Jones claimed elites drink baby blood for adrenochrome.
Could’ve challenged it, but didn’t.
Swore he’d never give Trump the mic. Then handed it over like a pre-workout shake.
Now even he’s not sure if it was the weed or the timeline that got too dark.
Loves elk. Hates nuance.
More bro than broadcaster
So here it is.
My creation. My cursed gallery. My plastic pantheon of power-drunk delusion.
THE ALPHA COLLECTION™
They came. They grifted. They gaslit.
From mascara messiahs to crypto cult leaders, from lobsters to labs, and from cowards in suits to prophets in podcasts—
These are the men who broke the world while blaming everyone else.
Polished. Plastic. Patriarchy-proof.*
Collect them all—before they collect your rights.
(*Do not leave unattended near democracy.)
LOL. Highly entertaining but eerily shocking to see how dysfunctional and delusional the current American male leaders and influencers are