Posted by: Rob | November 1, 2009


Wikipedia defines douchebag in the traditional sense.  That is, a douche bag used in feminine hygiene.

But, it also defines douchebag as slang.  To wit:

Douchebag, or simply douche, is considered to be a pejorative term in North America and other English speaking countries. In some English speaking countries the term is not well known. The slang usage of the term dates back to the 1960s. The term refers to a person with a variety of negative qualities, specifically arrogance and engaging in obnoxious and/or irritating actions without malicious intent. It is generally used for males only.

The Huffington Post had a piece up the other day highlighting a short video from entreating douchebags everywhere to unite and take a stand:

Vodpod videos no longer available.

more about “We Are Douchebags from Slick Gigolo -…“, posted with vodpod


Interestingly, while searching for the Huffpost piece to find the link for this post, I found out that if you’re a high school student in the US and you write a personal blog post, at home, on your own time and refer to the faculty and staff at your school as douchebags it can have unintended consequences for your extracurricular school career.  Best to think twice before hitting publish, apparently.

The real reason for this rant, however, is because of our most recent encounter with douchebags, which was Saturday night.

Now, Saturday was Hallowe’en (or Samhain if you’re of the pagan persuasion).  So, Saturday and a celebration.  Reason enough for a par-tay.  No problem-o.

We have neighbours who live down the back alley from us and who tend to be, at times, a little wild.  They are about our age and have a couple of twenty something children.  Who seem to still live at home.  With their respective significant others.  And their children.

I think the “parents” must have been away this weekend.

It seems like the “kids” arrived out here after whatever Hallowe’en function they’d been to wrapped up.  It was around 10 pm.  They fired up the backyard fire pit.  And cranked up the tunes.  It was a bit loud.  Our bedroom window directly faced the venue for the festivities.  But, as I said, it was Saturday and a celebration.  While the noise was infiltrating our house a bit, even with all the windows closed, we were snuggled in bed watching a video.  (It was Snatch, by the way.  One of Guy Ritchie’s better efforts.)

Our video ended around midnight, but the strains from the party down the way indicated things were still going strong.  I cracked the landing window open and could hear, in addition to the throbbing beat, loud “Wa-hoo’s” like you only get when everyone has had probably a bit too much to drink.

Sleeping was out of the question and we weren’t totally tired and, banking on the whole “fall back” thing this weekend, we decided to view another movie.  Revolver was the second film of our Guy Ritchie double feature.

It was about 2 am (daylight time) when the second movie ended and we were both pretty tired.  However, the party-ers down the way appeared to be no where near ready to wind things down.

I couldn’t believe that no one else had lodged a complaint yet.  I thought about getting dressed and walking down there to get them to tone things down.  Actually, truth be told, I fantasized about walking in there with a pick axe handle and smashing stereo and speakers to bits.  I wouldn’t have been above knee capping anyone who got in the way, either.

But, that’s not the way we do things in Canada.  So, rather than get dressed, I did the next best thing.  I called in a complaint.  Since it was late at night and the situation involved a drinking party, an RCMP constable was dispatched.  The constable called me from the road as he headed out here to the country and I supplied him with additional detail.

He was going to telephone the house first to see if he could get them to tone it down and, failing that, he planned a personal visit.

I’m not sure which approach he wound up using, but in a short while, the music faded away.  There was still loud talking and laughing but between fatigue and melatonin I was finally able to get to sleep.


  1. Douchebag nation. They are legion.

    Was very kind of you to let it go til 2am. Your other neighbors must be deaf… or were throwing beer cans on the fire?

  2. My wife is not having ANY of that nonsense. She is the first person to lodge a noise complaint with the local authorities and I can assure you that it will be well long before 2 a.m.! Wasn’t it too cold for that sort of nonsense, fire notwithstanding?

    • It was a nice evening actually. Just needed to layer for the trick/treating that evening. And these are real Canadians we are talking about. People who wear flip flops until the first snow and start wearing shorts as soon as they are completely sick of winter, regardless of whether or not it is technically over.

  3. Real Canadians sound like Real Tasmanians

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