HAHAHA! Now I can excuse myself with "Oh, pardon me. I have assburger's disease." That is awesome! Nonono, really, that's a conversation starter. "Ya know, I can't believe I've been labelled with a disorder that calls me an assburger. Seriously, it's on the books. Someone can just look through my records and say with confidence, 'dear sir, thou art an assburger,' and all I'll be able to say to it is 'yes, sir, I am.'" That's too awesome to comment further on, so I won't.
Don't get so insecure about what you call yourself. If you don't like the label that's been smacked on your backside, then keep your breeches pulled up. Besides, I don't have assburger's disorder. Why? I don't consider it a disorder. I don't consider myself in any way deficient. Perhaps some areas of socialization aren't really my bag, but I consider myself a maestro, a maven, a cognoscenti. That's my identity. That's where I fit. That's who I am to those around me, not some defective version of the same puzzlepiece as others, and I'm accepted because I accept and honor them in turn.