{"id":2426,"date":"2009-06-30T02:01:14","date_gmt":"2009-06-30T10:01:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.godammit.com\/?p=2426"},"modified":"2009-06-30T02:02:24","modified_gmt":"2009-06-30T10:02:24","slug":"the-other-douches","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/godammit.com\/the-other-douches\/","title":{"rendered":"The Other Douches"},"content":{"rendered":"

After Jill<\/a> and Braindance<\/a> shared their childhood memories of \u00a0 douche bags, I recalled my own uneasy feelings about those rubber things hanging over the bathtub when I was a kid.<\/p>\n

They were certainly a fixture in our bathroom, along with an enema bag and maybe even some other scary medical-looking crap. Wow, our mothers and grandmas were so weird!<\/p>\n

Try a Google image search for an actual douche bag, and most of what you’ll find are sickening guys and joke products that refer to the sickening guys. In other words, the old fashioned douche bag is a relic of another time, and its namesake is here to stay.<\/p>\n

Who the hell invented the douche bag? What a maniac. In fact, what a douche! I am thankful to my mom for neglecting to give me any instructions on “feminine hygiene” or anything else. I learned everything I know from my sister, dirty books, and The Hite Report<\/a>.<\/p>\n

But I feel kind of bad about depriving my own kids of the douche bag experience. They never got to feel queasy about their mother’s weird rubber crap in the bathroom. They never knew the frisson of squeamish curiosity that is such a touchstone of childhood. God, I’m a failure.<\/p>\n

Perhaps the shit on my dresser will make it up to them. \u00a0 It seems like it might have that Mom Mystique that could haunt them for the rest of their lives. I’ll have to ask them. Take a look and tell me what you think.<\/p>\n

$\"crap-on-my-dresser\"$ <\/a>
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