The Roman Dictionary

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?

Grammar fails:
That pisses off me. (No comment.)

Technology fails:
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!

Poetic moments:
The clouds are sleeping. 
The zipper is laying awake on the floor.
I’m tall in my shadow.

Love declarations:
Let’s eat french fries together! (Everyone knows he would never share.)

Notable insults:
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.


PS For some of Roman's more salacious musings, check out this blog post here. And this is a light read on his evolving sense of humor.

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