Is it DSD or just an ass?

In a recent blog, I wrote about the terrible disease that some of my father's family suffers from: Dumbshittedness. While my father does not have the disease, he has had to endure years of torment that come from being associated with people who do. He's had to answer questions about their problem: "WHY THE HELL DID YOUR BROTHER DO THAT? IS HE AN ASSHOLE, OR WHAT?", always trying to maintain compassion for both the victim of the disease and the victims of secondhand dumbshittedness — the coworkers, spouses, neighbors and children.

Then it hit me — we need to do a walk to raise awareness of Dumbshittedness disease (DSD) and to raise funds for a cure. While my first thought was to wear a brown ribbon in solidarity with the victims, my friend Jess came up with an even better way to get people talking about the disease: an empty toilet paper roll stuck on car antennas with masking tape or to one's chest with a large metal safety pin. Imagine the attention that would garner from passerby and the CHP, starting a dialog that can lead to recognition and shared pain: "OH MY GOD, MY MOTHER HAS THAT", leaving people feeling a bit less alone, more understood, and driven to work together to find a cure.

I can hear the testimonials now.

"I refuse to let this disease define me. I am NOT a Dumbshit — that is just my disease."
— John, 23

"For years we thought my brother was just a raving maniac and a bastard. Then we found out that he couldn't help it — he had the Dumbshittedness."
— Mary Beth, 51

"People have called me names for years. Dickhead. Asshole. Unsympathetic, controlling and twisted sick fuck. But now I know. I'm none of those things. I have DSD, and this summer, I will walk for a cure. Will you join me?"
— Robert, 47

Dennis Richmond will report live from Golden Gate Park, where thousands of walkers will proudly wave sticks with empty rolls of toilet paper taped to them and banners that let everyone know why THEY walk.

"I walk for my twice-convicted-for-a-DUI-and-continues-to-drink-and-drive-brother-in-law. He can't help it: he has DSD."

"I walk for my 'I didn't call you when your father died because I know you were watching yer shows' mother. She can't help it: she has DSD."

Who among us doesn't know someone who as DSD or who has been affected by secondhand DSD? Let us all join together now, raise our empty toilet paper rolls high and work together to find a cure for DSD somewhere on this side of homicide.