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‘The Ballad of Chump Nation’

Dear Chump Lady,

Happy New Year from UXWorld.

I was working on the item below for the better part of 2022 and am just now at the point where I have to get off the proverbial toilet and send it along. I had it 90% done when I connected with CN member Magnolia here in Boston — she’s a professional poet — and  I asked her to give it some songwriting TLC. I now present it to you as an unsolicited contribution to the site.

By way of introduction…

In April 1969, John Lennon recorded a song about his recent marriage to Yoko Ono. Covering the many ‘adventures’ that occurred during their whirlwind marital adventure, it describes a time when difficulties, obstacles, critics and naysayers were seemingly at every turn, determined to cause them grief.

Jamming to it in the car one day, it occurred to me that the journey John describes isn’t unlike what we chumps go through. There are times when we feel like we just can’t win, no matter what we do, when really (as John says) “we’re only tryin’ to get us some peace.” Inspiration struck and wouldn’t let go — the result is the parody below.

I’ve tried to hit all of the common journey milestones we read about each day here on the site: trickle truth, untangling the skein, blameshifting, pick-me dancing, navigating the Reconciliation Industrial Complex, the moment of realization that we have nothing to work with, finding Tracy’s book, going no contact, and finally getting on the road to meh. I know I haven’t covered everything, but I hope the tale told here is universal enough that every chump can relate.

My deepest and sincerest thanks to Magnolia, poet and songstress extraordinaire, with whom I had two marvelous dinners in Boston last summer and who helped me mold this into something better than it was when I started.

Happy fuckwit-free 2023, Chump Nation!



The Ballad of Chump Nation
(to the tune of “The Ballad of John and Yoko“)

Catchin’ little bits of deception
Trickle truth was comin’ out slow
We made an appeal: “What the hell is the deal?”
They said “It’s not our fault that you didn’t know”

Christ, you know it ain’t easy
The way they lie and betray
Whenever there’s fuckwits
It’s gonna be a rough day

Tryin’ to make some sense of the chaos
Hopin’ for a glimmer of zen
Well you know that we mean to untangle the skein
But now they go and move the goal post again


Went and signed up with an R-I-C expert
Seven weeks of blameshiftin’ hell
We went to a friend, said “What can you recommend?”
They said, “We’ll send you stuff from Esther Perel”


Bearin’ the self-pity, then the charm and rage
Lookin’ for a speck of clarity
One day, an insight – finally some daylight:
“You know, we don’t have nothin’ left to wo-ork WITH”

Picked up “Gain A Life” in a bookstore
Felt relief that’s hard to describe
Epiphany came — the playbook’s the same
We think we’ve just discovered our tribe


Thankful for the gift of no contact
Pick me dancing’s all in the past
We fin-al-ly dried up the kibble supply
It’s great to say it’s Tuesday at last



UXWorld! Magnolia! You’ve outdone yourselves!

Rhyming “blameshifting hell” with Esther Perel FOR THE WIN!

To any newbies reading, UXWorld is our song parody savant. You can take any grim chump situation and he’ll set it to tune. Check out the full collection here.

This is brilliant and I declare “The Ballad of Chump Nation” the official anthem of Chump Nation.

 Tracy, we still need a Friday Challenge…

Leave your accolades in the comments? Okay, I know Magnolia and UXWorld have set the bar high, but every movement needs some songs to hum as they march into battle. So, your Friday Challenge is to craft your own song parodies.

Battle Hymn of the Fuckwits?

What a Friend We Have in Judges?

The Schmoopie Shuffle?

Get your snark on and TGIF!

Ask Chump Lady

Got a question for the Chump Lady? Or a submission for the Universal Bullshit Translator? Write to me at Read more about submission guidelines.
  • UXWorld,
    Once again you have brought a smile and laugh to your fellow chumps!
    Thanks to you and Magnolia for a Friday morning grin.
    And yes to “blameshifting hell” rhymed with Esther Perel 😂 !!!
    Congrats ❤️🎶🎵🎼

    • I second that. “Blameshifting hell” rhymed with Perel is brilliant. Nailed the whole thing, yay.

    • It’s all UXWorld!! He’s too generous about a glance-over from an editor! I was honoured to get an early look at this masterpiece.

  • This is really awesome. I grew up a huge Beatles fan but not a John fan due to him being a major FW. But gosh this song is perfect. I was thrown by the syllables being what I thought was too many starting with “Bearin’ the self pity…” but then I realized it was the bridge with the triple drum tap and went back and got it right. (YES, I sang this while reading it. But hadn’t heard the song in ages so forgot where the bridge hit. lol)

    I bet Weird Al could make a great video for it. HAHAHAHA

  • UX and Magnolia’s talent is amazing!!

    I guess the irony is that Lennon was a cheater, Yoko an AP and his wife Cynthia and son Julian were left in their dust.

    • He was a double or triple cheater from what I read…at some point substituted a different similar-looking AP woman for Yoko for a time but recanted and she let him come back

    • I read Cynthia Lennon’s autobiography a few years ago. John was viciously abusive to her, emotionally, sexually, financially, physically. He was a serial cheater even before he met Yoko, who was also married at the time.

      In the 70s, Lennon and Ono had an ‘open’ marriage, and she pressured her personal assistant, May Pang, to have a relationship with him. He was a violent drunk and drug addict throughout both marriages and his relationship with Pang.

      Saying all of this as a die-hard Beatles fan who admits the ripe hypocrisy of John and Yoko’s message of peace.

    • Mr “Imagine No Possessions” and Yoko also bought quite a few fur coats on Christmas Eve one year from the selection brought to their apartments at the Dakota by a salesperson from Bergdorf Goodman.

      It’s one of BG’s legendary retail tales.

    • Hahaha, that’s hilarious Orna! Is that your daughter on the drums in the background? That must of felt good to put that out there. Nice! 😊👍👏

    • That was epic! Love the merry band! You’ve got this Aimee Mann/Debbie Harry soprano thing going on that works with punk riffs. Made my day!

      Narcs can turn anything into centrality, even being thoroughly ignored, so screw him, the song’s a gift to the rest of us. 😉

    • That sounds a bit like Half Man Half Biscuit (except you can sing) – you might like ‘It Makes the Room Look Bigger’, a paean to thankfully-departed spouses, home-improvement and mindless loyalty to small local sports clubs.

  • Brilliant! And as a HUGE lover of the original song, I had no problem singing along. Happy Friday and here’s to 2023!

  • Ain’t no ego high enough
    Ain’t no lying low enough
    To keep me from running from you.

    My brother would have run barefoot across the country to never see his ex again.

  • What a great start to the year! UX World & Magnolia, you have given me my earworm of the day. Great job! I was singing along.
    Thank you!

  • Sung to the tune of “Blowin’ In The Wind” by Bob Dylan

    How many times will you tell me those lies
    And think that I’ll still stick around?
    And how many time will you fake alibis
    And think that I won’t stand my ground?

    The answer, my dear, is blowin’ out your rear
    The answer is blowin’ out your rear.

  • Bravo!!! 👏👏👏UXworld, that’s some high level poetry, loved it!
    You and Magnolia killin the game with that, lol. Awesome you got together in Boston, that made me smile to know that. Thanks for a smiling start to Friday.😊👍

  • I stuck in the Beatle genre and will apologize in advance to John for using his magnificent ‘Imagine’ irreverently. No disrespect John, it’s one of my most beloved songs! 💙

    Imagine there’s no fuckwits,
    It’s pretty hard to do
    No one to steal your finances
    And no triangulation too

    Imagine all the Chumphood
    Free of nasty lies

    Imagine there’s no Esthers
    All our dreams come true
    No one to confuse or damage
    With perfect matching shoes

    Imagine all of chumphood
    Living their own truths

    You may say, I have PTSD
    But it comes at no surprise
    To have your life up ended
    And your world packed full of lies

    Imagine no legal documents
    That never seem to end
    No schmoops to subject your kids to
    That toxicity just ends

    Imagine all of chumphood
    Brightening up the world

    You may say I’m a dreamer
    But I’m not the only one
    We’ll all find our Tuesdays
    And in meh our peace will come

  • Haha wonderful! I will forever imagine UxWorld to be Miles, the composer in The Holiday. Thank you for the morning treat & Magnolia too.
    “Two Fuckers”
    There once was two fuckers, who swore like some truckers;
    they banged on & on…
    Thinking their banging was twu wuv & special, didn’t care about the wife, the kids or gaslighting level;
    they banged on & on…
    Those fuckers banged so much, they threw some screws loose, went on & cooked their goose;
    they banged less & less…
    The fuckers realizing it’s no longer fun without the clueless wife or husband;
    they banged less & less…
    When the two fuckers find other fuckers & start the whole thing all over…it’s anyone’s guess.

      • StopTheSap, your entry reminds me of the haikus we used to contribute to the “Fuck” thread in the old days. Much mirth and astonishment at our collective creativity as we whipped out our rhythmic rhymes, usually very late at night. Oh, how I miss the old chat room days and the superlatively witty chumps who stumbled their way there.

  • I came across a song parody online to ‘The Long and Winding Road’ titled ‘The Two-Faced Cheating Toad’. Thought that was creative. 🤣

  • Laughed out loud! I need that, thank you. I started giggling at:

    They said “It’s not our fault that you didn’t know”


  • I was in a band for years with my fuckwit. I wrote a son which I thought was about raising an autistic kid. I listen now and it was 100% about the loneliness and betrayal in my marriage. “Kind words can’t fix this it’s never getting better it will never be alright”

    • There’s a special hell for FWs who betray ailing children. It’s beyond anything I recognize as human.

  • love it!

    Papa’s Got a Brand New Shag (to the tune of Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag)

    Come here, sister. Papa’s into swinging
    He thinks he’s hip, about that new breeding babe
    He’s into drag
    Papa’s got a brand new shag.

    Come here, mama, and dig this crazy scene
    He thinks he’s fancy, but his dick ain’t too clean
    He’s into drag
    Papa’s got a brand new shag.

  • Thanks UX and Magnolia. The poetry I wrote is so dark it’s nice to have these parodies to keep me going 😊

  • Man, I needed that and the follow-ons. What a trip!

    Last night I spoke at my 12-step group about denial vs. reality. So much better to live in reality…and free.

  • The Schmoopie song below isn’t my creation but is from the great balladeer Pedro Aznar titled “Tilinga.” After D-Day, I explained the situation to a friend from Argentina who started laughing at my description of the AP and the bilking emails I found in which the AP wheedles and hints at FW for expensive crap but the emails are framed as “asking for advice” over which expensive thing she should choose or which four star hotel or bistro they should patronize… “Do you like this one or that one?”…obviously in the hopes FW would pay for it all out of family assets.
    I was so out of my depth trying to wrap my head around what was going on but the guy I know declared, “We have a special word for that!” Apparently Tilinga isn’t as blunt as “whore” and isn’t limited to “side piece” but is heavily loaded old slang for a sort of Anna Sorokin character– a shopping-obsessed hustler and climber with tacky jetsetter aspirations who plays the respectable ingenue and hypocritically condemns other women’s morals while using others as stepping stones and cash machines to live above their means. There’s something so calming about finding a single word to describe something it would otherwise take hours to explain. And, bonus, it comes with the perfect song:


    You say yes, you think no
    You change the game for the best
    You think yes, you say no
    You fly, engines blasting
    With these yes, with those no
    You have a wholesale whim
    With those yes, with these no
    What vile bug vaccinated you?

    You travel here, you travel there
    If they don’t invite you, you crash the occasion
    You ask there, you deny here
    Your addition subtracts, and you continue
    You have an end that is not a plan
    Your pimp throws you lyrics
    You move there, you lie here
    Don’t hide it, I already saw you!
    You want to end up “okay”
    like those perfumed old women
    who play bridge
    Half blowjobs–
    with well-marked cards, oh!
    — for fools like you

    I make my exit… don’t you see you’re taking the dive?
    Twat… what will they give you now
    The noose turns
    What are they going to kill you with?

    You say yes, you think no
    You change owners for no reason
    You think yes, you say no
    You think a dream is a mattress
    With these yes, with those no
    No rice, no milk, no bowl
    With those yes, with these no
    What evil bug corrupted you?

    You travel here, you travel there
    You are ashamed and humiliated
    You ask there, you deny here
    Your account seizes the future
    You have an end that is not a plan
    Blending dough that makes no bread
    You move there, you lie here
    Don’t hide it, I already saw you!

        • Aznar is up there with the best. I love the recordings he did with Argentine national treasure, the late Mercedes Sosa. Here’s one of them: Zamba para Olvidarte The song sounds a bit “doormat format” but Sosa was on the dissident death list during the dictatorship so it could also be allegorical about political betrayal– the people who turned their backs or sold out friends, etc.

          I don’t know why you came back
          since i started to forget
          I don’t know if you already know
          I cried when you left
          I don’t know why you came back
          How bad it makes me remember.

          The afternoon has turned sad
          and I prefer to shut up
          why are we going to talk
          of things that no longer exist?
          I don’t know why you came back
          You see, it’s better not to talk.

          What a shame it is to know that, in the end
          of this love, there’s nothing left
          just a poor song
          spinning around my guitar
          I’ve been missing you for a while
          my zamba to forget..

      • Old-timey slang can be so nicely condensed and time-saving. Since Aznar wrote this I’m going to assume it also has political subtext with “Tilinga” = “neoliberal slut” or “Vichy traitor.” There’s this very shriveled, embattled sector of the ruling class in Argentina who still dream of bringing back the 70s/80s dictatorship so they can go back to paying maids in bananas and commanding fear and respect rather than having everyone laugh at them. They famously like to shop themselves into bankruptcy (the lyrics have a shopping theme and refers to frozen accounts) to play jetsetters and engage in tawdry financial cheating scams to keep up appearances. Meanwhile they live in gated communities or luxury condos with crumbling walls and dodgy plumbing and can only appear “super rich” relative to the extreme poverty in the country, otherwise their typical Europhilia seems pretentious and beggarly and also drives them to put their own and everyone else’s necks in the “noose” of first world profit schemes (which the dictatorship basically was) which have repeatedly come close to destroying the country. They are politically “pimped” and “change owners without reason”–voting for anyone who promises shortsighted power grabs and tax cuts.

        Whether you interpret it interpersonally or politically, I think the song really captures a particular type.

    • A twice-before married, repeat side dish who abandoned her daughter according to Wiki. I know we’re supposed to view the lives of these people according to their eras but I can’t think of any historical context that makes it okay to abandon kids the way Ono and Lennon did.

      My parents were artists and I’d always hear from artsy adults (not my parents, who were open about people’s foibles) how we’re supposed to appreciate artists’ work without reference to their personal lives. But I can honestly say my negative gut reaction to Ono and Lennon and their work predates any knowledge of their lives. As a tot I had the same reaction to the other Beatles with the exception of Harrison who I never got a particular read on. Maybe Harrison was just more opaque. Only when hearing Beatles covers by other artists can I finally understand diehard fans a little better, maybe because the “outside” appearance– of sentimentality, depth and sincerity in music and lyrics– matches the “inside” better if the songs are arranged and interpreted by artists with more character. I think it’s the dissonance in original recordings that makes me queasy. The Stones probably never bothered me because they’re all balls-out filthy motherfuckers singing balls-out motherfucker music.

      I wish the uncanny little kid radar I started out with hadn’t been bent over time by cultural brainwashing. Every time we see some two-faced public figure represented as a “hero” or a film depicting some lovable or heroic character being played by an actor or actress who, in real life, is a violent, dishonest piece of human garbage, we’re having our intuitions re-calibrated and we’re being trained to overlook intangible red flags in behavior and “vibes” and reinterpret them as “good” and “safe.” It’s dangerous. That’s why I’m not teaching my kids to “separate” people’s work from their lives.

      • Actually George Harrison was a bit of a chump, I think, although we never can tell about rock stars. Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr come across as likable. They at least managed to string along long marriages without scandal.

        • Yes, I think Eric Clapton cheated with George’s wife or at least girlfriend. Eric wrote Layla about her and George wrote several too.

    • Yes, and I do remember his wife saying that Yoko had more in common with him than she did.

      But to be fair I also told my fws sister the same thing about fw and his whore. But, what I meant was they were both immoral dirt bags, though I think his sister didn’t take it that way. I never clarified it; but in time I think she figure it out.

      It is many years later now, and since fw is dead; I would only clarify it if she asked me what I meant.

  • I can see clearly now that FW is gone
    I can see all trickle truth in my way
    Gone is the gaslighting that had me blind
    It’s gonna be a might (might) might (might) sunshinin’ day
    It’s gonna be a might (might)
    Might (might) sunshinin’ day

    Oh yes, I can make it now the blame is gone
    All of the bad feelings have disappeared
    Here is the Tuesday I’ve been praying for
    It’s gonna be a might (might)
    Might (might) sunshinin’ day (ooh…)


    Look all around,
    There’s nothing but honesty
    Look straight ahead,
    There’s nothing but my path and me


  • I will keep this simple…from childhood…sing to itsy bitsy spider…

    His itsy bitsy penis went flailing all about
    Down came the truth so I threw the bastard out.
    Out came the sun and dried up all my pain
    Have faith my fellow chumps, it’s Tuesday once again!

    • I’m from NY and grew up singing about the “eensy-weensy” spider, which drove my exH crazy, since he insisted on “itsy bitsy.” Don’t even get me started on the whole “Mary, merry, marry” thing. My motto continues to be a plaintive “Can’t we all just get along?”

  • Thanks everyone for all of the kind words. I love when I get to start my day with these creative exercises to get me going. Some of my most productive work days result from creating these.

    I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a shout-out to the one that started it all, from the “Jingle Meh” column of Dec 21 2018 (check the archives)


    Summary: Another Friday Fun Challenge: “Subverted Xmas Tunes.” This ditty references my cheater’s new squeeze — a novelist and writing instructor I named “Rider of the Purple Dildo,” or “RPD for short (later changed to “The Chlorine Special”).

    To the tune of: “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” (standard)

    I’ll be ‘meh’ for Christmas
    I don’t really care
    We’ll have real serenity
    And peace without you there

    Christmas Eve is finally
    Tranquil and stress-free
    I’ll be ‘meh’ for Christmas
    And you’ll have RPD

    • Your talent always astounds me UXworld, thank you for all your hilarious contributions that really help us chumps skewer the ridiculous entitlement of the cheater and their schmoops and ludicrous situations these lead to. I’ve always wondered (and frankly have been a little afraid to ask) the origin of the name Chlorine Special, but if it’s not too NSFCN (Not Safe for CN), I’d consider it a belated Christmas present to find out.

  • In the Tune of “T Rex Bang The Gong”

    Well, I’ve lost some sleeps
    Over cheat and deceit that surrounds you
    You’re a cunning creep Oh yeah
    And now discovery light shines upon you
    you’re not the one I thought you were
    Can’t right the wrongs Gonna get you gone Get you gone
    Well, we’ve had the years
    But there’ll be no cheers or laughter
    Youve ran Love into the dirt
    You’re not going to change for you loves a game
    But you try to leave me the shame
    Can’t right your wrongs, Gonna get you gone, get you gone
    Well, the winds in my sails
    With a heart full of nails that you’ve left me
    You low life dirty cheat
    Go claim what you deem with all your wanderings
    You dirty low life cheat
    Cant right your wrongs now you gone yeah
    Now your Gone

    Oh I mean what I say……….
    Cant right your wrongs Nows your gone

  • Re Lennon, truth be told, if he had lived longer, it would be unlikely that these two cheaters would still be wed.

  • Hello, heartless, not my friend,
    I’ll slum and grey rock you again.
    To her bedroom, softly creeping,
    Left your seeds while you were cheating.
    The derision that you chanted may contain,
    comical claims.
    From all your monkey sirens.
    *All apologies to Simon AND Garfunkel.

  • Ux, I am proud to know you!

    Music is a powerful healing tool and my musical infidelity recovery tip today is to share the positive experience I have had listening to BINAURAL MUSIC. I have been using it as a sleep aid. I don’t know if it actually works or if it’s my willingness to believe it works, but I have been sleeping a lot better.

    Search for “binaural music” in Apple Music or whatever music app you use.

  • So he took my clothes to dress her up. I mean I can’t make this stuff up. Now half my wardrobe is mysteriously disappeared .

  • Amazing!
    I wrote this ditty about pornsick cheaters a while back;

    Whack-it Man
    (Sung to the tune of Elton John’s Rocket Man)

    He packed his bags last night pre-flight
    With schmoopie waiting for her man
    And he’s gonna be high
    On new twat as planned
    I won’t miss his smirk, won’t miss his farts
    In fact, he’s dumb as shit
    And such a tiresome prick

    And I know she’s gonna get a short short dick
    And sexual inclinations that are pretty sick
    He’s not the man they think on
    Oh no, no, no
    He’s a whack-it man
    Whack-it man, one hand, both eyes on his I-phone

    Pornhub ain’t the kind of place that’s right and filth
    In fact it’s full of scum
    But you’re not the boss of them, don’t kink shame
    Just be a MILF
    And all this fapping
    I don’t understand
    And then they go and cheat
    Whack-it man, rinse and repeat

    Yes I know she’s gonna get a short short dick
    And sexual inclinations that are pretty sick
    He’s not the man they think on
    Oh no, no, no
    He’s a whack-it man
    Whack-it man, one hand, both eyes on his I-phone

    And I know she’s gonna get a short short dick
    And I know she’s gonna get a short short dick
    And I know she’s gonna get a short short dick…..

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