It’s come to my attention that some of you are stalked here at Chump Nation by your cheating exes. Generally this happens when deep in the throes of chumpiness, the chump sends the cheater an article from this site in a futile effort to get them to Understand Your Pain.
This is about as effective as trying to teach your pet rock Swahili… but the point is, folks, don’t share your safe place with fuckwits, okay? Keep it anonymous. Some creepy exes try to hunt down familiar screen names or cyber stalk to use shit against you in court.
These people suck.
Pity their kibble affliction, the way they desperately crave centrality. So today, stalking cheaters, I’m a throwing you a squeaky chew toy. Here’s a column JUST FOR YOU! Revel in it. Share it on your social media. Hell, go share it with your chump!
Welcome to Chump Lady! I’m sure you will find the content here extremely uncomfortable. Like flay-the-skin-off-your-face-spinning-off-your-motorcycle-into-a-pit-of-gravel kind of uncomfortable. That’s intentional. I don’t write for you. I write for the person you gutted with betrayal.
Gutted. Isn’t that the sort of hyperbolic, over-the-top, victim-speak with which you take umbrage? Who are we to discuss the shitty things you do and compare notes? How dare we have a little corner of the Internet devoted to your ridicule. The affair was an Exuberant Act of Defiance! A Singular Mistake! A couple dozen dating profiles and secret cell phone plan! It’s not like you meant to hurt your chump intentionally. They’re just a spot of collateral damage on the path to greater self-actualization and furtive boners.
Douche, I’m not going to try and explain the chump experience for you. Umefungwa sana. (That’s Swahili for “You are awfully dim-witted.”) If you can’t figure out how devastating infidelity is and how very much you suck by observing your own sobbing/catatonic/furious partner, I seriously doubt my blog can help you.
But help is not why you’re here, is it? I mean, I know chump pain is intoxicating (speaking of furtive boners) — the way it seems All About You. Seeing yourself discussed might remind you fondly of the ol’ pick-me-dance. (I MATTER!!! ME! ME! ME!) But Douche, it’s not about you. This place is for chumps, to claim their mightiness and leave you to the irrelevance you so richly deserve.
What? There are KIBBLES here and they aren’t for YOU?
Yes. It’s tragic when we have to share the kibbles, isn’t it? Let me hold your hand. Now twist it behind your back… and… stick your head in a toilet. This will make our relationship stronger. Trust me!
You’ll be happy to know that there is the entire rest of the internet to bless with the wonderfulness that is you. Your fetid brand of narcissistic cluelessness isn’t welcome here, but if you insist on sticking around, I’m sure Chump Nation will have some choice words for you in the comments.
Besides, don’t you have something better to do? Like fuck a teenage intern, sprinkle medicated powder on your pubic lice, or read an Esther Perel article?