Any language, native or foreign, is composed of vocabulary words, grammar, and idioms. Roman is minting up his own living dialect of pidgin English - full of near-misses - and his expressions are often olfactory in nature. Here’s a short, guided tour through the Roman language.
Some English words have alt meanings in Roman, as in:
Damn: when your butthole runs out of batteries (Sorry, I’m just quoting here. Now that I think of it, perhaps this is the definition to dam?)
And some he defines better than Merriam-Webster’s:
Epilepsy is like: lightning storms in my eyes.
Autism is like: little blasters in your brain.
Surprised by a racy scene in a movie, he leaned over to me and said: They’re strangers, and not strangers. Mm-hmm.
Roman has his black belt in portmanteaus – bumper cars with words. Or, as he himself has asserted, I make up sense! Some examples:
Califurnace: Southern California
Failmily: I believe this is his moniker for our non-neurotypical family
Jes-Its: holy Chees-Its (a delicious idea that could absolutely transform Sunday communion)
Overneath: over then under, I presume
Unrude: this must be the conflicted sentiment behind such utterances as “thanks for the help, rocket genius!” or the ever-popular “thanks, butt cake!”
Upsad: Roman’s word for how he felt after his grandfather Opa’s burial last May
Weirds: the nethers, as in: “I hate getting’ kicked in the weirds!”
Yesternight: this should be a word, yes?
That pisses off me. (No comment.)
Stupid status: apparently, this is my Facebook status. However, if he were to create an app, it would be called “Bunch of Morons.” Sign me up!
The clouds are sleeping.
The zipper is laying awake on the floor.
I’m tall in my shadow.
Let’s eat french fries together! (Everyone knows he would never share.)
You need to go to joke school.
Butter for brains.
Peace out, home dance!
You smell like country farts.
Here are a few select idioms:
Like most kids with autism, Roman is blind to race: your skeleton face looks like mine, and I see behind your skin. Or perhaps he has x-ray vision?
But he is not blind to gender: Let’s go watch boobs on TV.
Mad about having to eat yogurt heavily laced with probiotic powder: It smells like demons!
I asked him to swap undies before bed: Yeah. These ones are blown.
I forget twice! (One time apparently doesn’t get the job done.)
My favorite Romanism happened in Texas last summer after a meal at Whataburger.
Holy cheese crackers, my butt farts like a showerhead! Unfortunately, we were in the car at the time. *sad face*
Roman has been on hyperdrive recently because of Quinn’s 10-day hospital stay, and was unleashing a word waterfall when his brother interrupted him: "Chill out Roman- you haven’t been chill all week.” Roman replies: That’s my talents.
Thanks, rocket genius.