I've been meaning to write all week with the results from the Douche Card giveaway, but I was inflicted with an debilitating ailment that prevented me from spending more than a few minutes at a time on the computer. Worried, I took part of yesterday to seek medical attention.
The doctor came in looking solemn. I knew it was bad news. "I'm sorry, Maven," she said as she looked down at my chart. "You have a chronic disease called 'Kinetic Irreversible Disruption Syndrome'. You've had it a long time - over a decade, by the looks of things." She gave me a couple of minutes for it to sink in before telling me more. It's not every day you're told you have a disease.
She said there's nothing she can do to minimize the disruption of K.I.D.S., as it's something I've brought upon myself through lifestyle choices. It's a chronic, lifelong condition, which is more physically demanding closer to onset, but more of a financial strain later as I begin expensive rounds of treatment in search of eventual relief. Because, while there is no cure, I can learn to manage it through the purchase of vast quantities of food, special clothing, college tuition, car payments, and wedding receptions.
Right now, I'm dealing with a third bout of K.I.D.S., which has been particularly demanding this week. But I'm going to need to suck it up and get used to it, because I have at least another fourteen years to go before the symptoms begin to lessen.
The doctor was pretty sure there are support groups out there, but I think I'll stick to what I'm best at: Blog therapy to cope with my K.I.D.S. Besides, while this is a disorder I'm going to be dealing with for a very long time, there are worse things out there. Like douchery, for example. People who have to cope with douchery are far worse off than I am.
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| Photo Credit: Orange32.com |
Last week, I asked my sheeple to tell me about a douche in their life. If the story was compelling enough, I would send them a douche card that they could then share with that special douchey someone. After careful consideration, I've decided to send cards out to everyone who told me a story. Here's who wins and why:
Winn: For bitching about Anne Murray (who was really rude to me the one time I met her in person), and for being disgusted with environmentally-unfriendly douchebags. You may not get far sending a card to Ms. Murray, but the diesel truck guy could use one stuffed into his mailbox one day. Just sayin'.
Steph: You can give one to your girlfriend-beating, plastic-burning neighbour. He sounds lovely. I'm sure he'll think twice after getting that card sent to his house-- you know, if he can read. And between you and me, I'm having serious doubts about that.
Mama Zen: Your old mechanic most definitely deserves a card for sending you driving merrily away in a potential death trap of a vehicle. I have a special hate-on for dishonest mechanics. A few months ago, my ex-mechanic improperly installed my rear brakes, resulting in my van catching on fire on the highway with three-year-old Spawnling in the backseat. 911, firetrucks... Good times.
Mama Gayle: Oh, Mama Gayle. What on earth can I say? I'm speechless, and that's saying a lot for me. You get a douche card to give to one of the douchiest people I've ever heard of - patient zero in the douche ward, if you will. You have my sympathies, and I certainly hope this guy gets whatever karma is coming to him, because I'm sure it won't be pretty.
Josie: Your boss sounds "special". I think special bosses deserve special awards. Personally, I would put a coffee mug on his desk with a card in it when no one's around (make sure there are no cameras so you don't get in deep doodoo). I'll be emailing you!
AJ: What is it with brother-in-laws? I have one that has said about 10 words to me in the 17 years I've known him. That being said, he hasn't done anything douchey to me otherwise. He just quietly dislikes me, which is far better than what you're dealing with. I'll send you a card so you can send him a card.
Momma Sunshine: I read your blog. You definitely need a douche card for your ex. And I know this even though you're pretty tame about what you say about your former marriage, so that really says something.
Kristin: You may not have the proverbial balls to give your mother-in-law a card, but maybe having it in on you during family get-togethers, as you smile through clenched teeth and search for a way to stuff it in her purse, would be therapeutic enough. I'll send you a card.
I'm going to try and contact all of you, either via email or on your blog (if you have one). Then, if you trust that I won't show up at your house with an axe (all internet people are axe murderers, as I've stated before - although I'm more into spears, myself. Nothing like a good spearing to make my day a little brighter) then I'll mail one out to you the old fashioned way. You can then either use it, keep it until you work up the nerve to use it, blog about it somewhere, or burn it because I frighten you. Your choice.
Finally, I want to give credit where credit is due. A company called Orange32 designed these cards that I coveted for so long before having some of my very own. They seem like a cool little design and print shop, so I encourage you to check out their site. They have no idea I've been writing about them and their marvellous wares, but I think I'll send them an email so they can witness douchery being fought on the front lines. Nothing feels better than knowing you're making a difference in the world.