h1

SUPER-Embarrassing Moment #5: Oh Crap.

December 22, 2007

indian-food-samosa.jpgThe Year: 1989….

It was a time to rejoice, feast, and drape ourselves in richly-coloured silks…

It was a time for an Indian Wedding :-) .

The princess was my aunt, and the prince…well…he was some dude who had recently arrived on a sugar-cane boat (hurray for marrying immigrants you’ve never met! :-) )

Now this was my very first wedding (Indian or otherwise), so you can totally imagine my excitement.

My mom was the one who was planning the “Arranged Parade”, so I found myself right in the thick of it.

As you may or may not know, Indian weddings are known for the FOOD. Seriously, brown people know their stuff.  It’s notindian-food-pakoras.jpg even the food at the reception that makes the event. If anything, it’s the night-time feasts leading UP to the wedding day…that’s what the people remember.

And for me (the round-bellied girl with excessive saliva), it was ALL ABOUT the food.

Our “night-before-the-wedding-feast” was lavish. I mean obviously there was a “party” happening around the food, but you coulda fooled me. I couldn’t even hear the music, or see the people, or feel the “old-lady hugs”…

Instead, I was overwhelmed with a single thought:

food + belly = HAPPY

The entire event was nothing more than my very own deep-fried, syrupy, pistachio-filled playground.

Magnificent :-) .

indian-food-tandoori-chicken.jpgFor most of the evening, I was eating up a storm and dancing on a cloud.

At some point in the night, I must’ve O.D.-ed on all the food, ’cause I awoke the next day in a state of “confused user”.  I found myself curled up in a ball on the floor, knee-deep in crumbs and damp from all the “calorie-sweat”. 

As I finally tried to get up, I stopped for a moment and listened: my stomach was rumbling fiercely, what was it trying to tell me?

Before it could even answer, I felt something…

SOMETHING was hurdling down the chute.

UH-OH…..

I raced to the bathroom “Canadian drugged-up-sprinter”-style, breaking my own world record, and arriving just in time.

Do you need any further detail??? Shudder

I certainly would have liked to solve my “issue” with some meds (or a diaper for 8-year olds), but it wasindian-food-dinner.jpg already time for the wedding!

Sooo…even though I was dripping with sweat, I managed to wrap myself in layer-upon-layer of (seductive) silk, and I forced myself to the ceremony (is it wrong to refer to an 8-year-old as seductive?).

Now the thing about weddings (whether Indian or not), is that you pretty much have to watch attentively, and also shut the hell up.

And to add a little colour to the Indian affair, everyone sits on the floor, positioning themselves in a big human maze.

So basically there was no getting out of that place.

This was a MAJOR problem, since “crap attack” #2 was well on its way.

indian-food-sweets.jpgAfter a few vain attempts to “hold it in”, I was out of luck.

Do I even have to go any further, or is that quite enough in the “imagery” department?

Well…I already brought you halfway here, so why not continue?

Okay :-)

……

So basically I crapped my pants (and not “logs’ mind you, but more like the liquidy-diarrhea stuff (I KNOW, wtf? I’m wanting to puke as I write this…)).

Now don’t be fooled, I didn’t have a big ol’ sac of “liquid-crap” in my undies, but the damage was pretty apparent.

This was a tough situation, and not just in the sense of sitting in a warm bowl of “poo-stew”.  What I mean is, I’m sure all the people around me could smell it…right?

RIGHT.

In order to avert the “stink bomb blame”, I had to think fast.

So like a crafty con-man, I immediately “turned that shit around” (no pun intended), by pointing to a DAMN ugly baby: “ewwww, indian-food-ladoos.jpggross smelly baby! I exclaimed, in my innocent 8-yr old voice. 

The trickery worked like a charm, ’cause it’s universially known that ugly babies have the smelliest poo (same goes for ugly adults).

So with the smell-crisis over, the ceremony finally ended. 

At this point I was thinking “yo, what’s next?”

I had to clean up all the “poo stew”, so I hobbled on over to the women’s public bathroom.

I didn’t really know what to do once I got there…

I couldn’t tell my mom that I was walking around with crap-filled undies, ’cause it surely would’ve ruined the “big day”.

So I kinda just hung around, all confused-like, for about…20 minutes (I guess I should’ve cleaned myself up, but the mess was way too big for me to handle on my own). 

After what seemed like 20 hours, a friend of my mom’s came into the bathroom.  She took one look at my “soiled derriere”, and responded with shock and disgust.

indian-food-jalebi.jpgQuickly though, her “it doesn’t matter if you are gross and damaged, I’ll look after you” maternal instincts kicked in (phew!). 

Needless to say, she dropped my pants and undies, and cleaned me the fuck up.

But here’s a problem: I was now in a public bathroom with no pants or underwear.

What next?

Well like a true embarrassing spectacle, my mom’s friend “called for reinforcements”.

They raced right home to get me another outfit.

As I waited for my new set of clothes, I basically crapped my ass off (only now I was in the right place at the right time).

Other than that, I just sat in a corner of the public bathroom, stick-legs shivering, bum-crack raw from all the wiping.

When the reinforcements finally returned with my outfit, 10 or 12 people followed them in (you can call them “curious bystanders”, but I’m gonna indian-food-sweets-2.jpgcall them assholes..)

As word of  my “accident” spread, my mom had suddenly arrived, sporting her meanest “I’m gonna slap the teeth out of you” face.  Luckily for me, she was way too busy with the wedding details to deliver the actual slap.

Instead, she just re-told the story about A MILLION times afterwards (i.e. “I TOLD her not to eat so much!”)).

Fast forward to today, and anytime someone in my family poos their pants (a couple times a year), my mom will bust out the tale once again (and that’s exactly how I wanted to be immortalized…Sure…)

And so….what’s the moral of the story, this last in my “Embarrassing” series?

Well it’s simple:  Indian food is a two-faced whore, so be careful (and for the love of God use protection)

———————————————————————————————————————

On a completely different note, wonderful Red gave me an award this week (yes, she feels that I’m bodacious :-) )

bodacious.jpg

I was SO flattered, and in an effort to pass along the goodness, I’ve identified two bodacious bloggers on my ‘roll who MUST be named.

Like me, these two chicks are Canadian, but more different from one another they could not be.  Despite the contrast, each makes me laugh in her own special way. 

Their writing speaks volumes of their wicked personalities, and I hope they keep it up in ’08.

So here they are, my bodacious bloggers:

bodacious.jpgGreenie at “Christmas Time in the Emerald City”

Talea at “No Really, It’s Just My Face”

:-)

55 comments

  1. So I take it you are Indian? LOL. I knew a girl named Romi in high school and she was a cool chick. I didn’t tell you this already did I? I have the world’s worst memory. Anyhow, that’s how I knew you’d have an awesome blog. And I was right. Congrats on your award – nice choices on your recipients!


  2. *Sniff, sniff* My first blog award!! I dont even know what I’ll do with it! I’ll be sure to write my acceptance speech on my blog.

    I think we ALL have a ‘I crapped my pants when I was a kid and totally didn’t know what to do about it’ story. I mean, people will TRY and say they don’t, but they do. I do. I was in grade 2, and I dont know how it occurred, but it did. And I was at school. So I had no choice but to run to the bathroom (I totally went to the senior bathroom, where my chances of knowing somebody would be greatly diminished), ditch the undies in a pile on the floor and go back to class, commando style.
    Years later, I thought of the poor janitor who must have discovered my 7 year old accident. Sorry, janitor guy.

    This was an awesome post. The analogies, the descriptions, the thoughts of an 8 year old in crisis……..truly beautiful Romi, truly beautiful.


  3. You do indeed have a way with words. I’ve never read such a beautiful description of crapping yourself in public.

    I never crapped myself as a kid. I didn’t piss myself either. But as an adult I have occasionally had the misfortune of losing control of my bodily functions. Last time I got locked up I was sitting on my mat eating breakfast, or at least trying to. I had been brought in the night before drunker than hell, and my digestive system was not happy at all. About half way through my scrambled eggs I went to release what I thought was a fart. Turns out it was the first stages of severe diarrhea. I let loose a quick squirt of what can only be described as ass water. It wasn’t even close to poo. And it immediately soaked through my boxers, my jump suit, and even the sheets.

    Now in this particular jail everyone was locked down in their cells, so I waited till my beaner room mate went to sleep, covered up with my blanket, and changed clothes. Then I pretended like I had to do some laundry. I washed half of the stuff I had there in the sink, and hung it up to dry. No one called me out on it, but it was pretty obvious. The worst part, You have to use your clothes as a pillow, so even after washing them, they still stunk of crap. I just had to roll up the smelliest in the middle of my pillow roll and deal with it.

    Also, they didn’t issue boxers in this jail, so those were mine that got soiled. When I got bailed out, I left those ass holes my dirty boxers. Screw them. I didn’t want them anymore. Never a dull moment in the slammer.


  4. When I was 7, I was the victim of an ex-lax cake. I never understood why out of a handful of people, nobody wanted to eat the cake. So I did, and about 10 minutes later, I had squirts of poo coming out my behind. It got so bad that I didn’t have time to make it to the bathroom before it started running down my leg.

    It would have gone into my shoe, but when I was a kid, I had really tall socks, so at least I didn’t have to ditch my shoes. Thankfully my friend let me borrow his shorts. Unfortunately, I had to go without underpants for the rest of the day.

    Thomas :)


  5. Ok, OMG, Romi, I read this as something that happened to you like, recently and seriously I was quite horrified!! I have no idea why my reading skills suffered a temporary shutdown but obviously they did! (Maybe it’s because I was so old in 1989!)
    Anyhoo, the story is far less shocking when you realise it’s an 8 year old you!!! Very funny! :)


  6. Hmmm…This reminds me of that dream I once had. And blaming babies is something that should be done more often. Stupid babies.


  7. Bodacious is a great honor Romi. Because not only does it refer to your writing excellence, but it’s also what some people say to describe hot girls with good racks. Cool.


  8. And as for the story:

    Laughed really hard:

    1. The Round-Bellied girl with excessive saliva – HI-Larious!
    2. Is it wrong to refer to an 8 year-old as seductive? (Ha – totally not wrong if you’re us)
    3. Poo-stew. (Oh, Romi. That is outrageous).
    4. Ugliest babies have the smelliest poo. (Why is that just true?)
    5. Bum-crack raw from all the wiping. (Story of my life).

    Great embarassing moments Romilatta. Such courage to tell of these events.


  9. Oh My God you are SO totally disgusting! Wonderful post, thank you for writing it!

    Look at all the pictures of the food. It’s all FRIED! That’s why it leaked out of you like that you poor thing! Someday mom may crap her pants too (if she hasn’t already) and then you will get your revenge. Or not. Diarhea knows no true revenge, methinks …


  10. You are absolutely hilarious, and you write so honestly and so well that (in this case, unfortunately,) it makes me feel that I’m right there with you, gagging and maybe even doing a little vomiting. The food looks so wonderful, but you’re right– Indian food IS a two-faced whore.

    I love your blog!!! You deserve the award, and many more!


  11. And you’re gonna “EWWWW” my chocolate mousse line, after writing THIS? hahahahaha!!!
    Oh . My . Fucking . God, I laughed .. and laughed. And the pictures, the pictures fucking sealed it, Romi. They were perfect additions to this story.
    I crapped myself too when I was about 8

    and uhh, thanks for including ME after this lovely display of Craptastic writings! Love it, thanks :]


  12. Thanks, Romi, you just ruined my lunch. It was almost worth it. Your blog is the shit. Some would say that it is going down the pan, but they’d be pulling a fast one. I can’t wait to see a sequel, but then again. a number 2 to this post would be ass-inine.


  13. Thank God for ass-wiping friends, they must really love you! LOL. This is a great story. I can almost smell it, ugh! I have had the same experience with indian food, it’s some spice that helps rid you of the calories whilst still allowing you to enjoy the flavor! This was so funny I almost shit myself reading it!


  14. (((hugs))) Happy Christmas!!!


  15. All I have to say is…Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Ugh. Did I just say that?

    My heart goes out to your 8 year old ass!


  16. Why do I always make the mistake of thinking its ok to eat and read your posts at the same time…?

    And whilst I am on the subject of eating I just discovered an obscure chocolate bar called Romi which is all chocolate on the outside and all coconut on the inside.

    Very exotic. Except its in the discount rack.


  17. Oh my god. I don’t think I would have lived through that experience… It sounds like my first course of action would have been to curl up and die, rather than blame it on a baby (quick thinking frm an eight year old!)


  18. I still use the word bodacious and radical in everyday conversation.

    And are you only 17? Did I do the math right? If you are, you are wise beyond your years, and I apologize for being so god damn fucking crass.


  19. “is it wrong to refer to an 8-year-old as seductive?”

    Not when it’s you kid… not when it’s you.


  20. Hey.. What is that stuff that looks like tin foil on the indian sweets? I have an indian roommate and he constantly brings home indian food and he never knows what it is. He just says “it tastes good”.


  21. teeni: darn right I’m Indian! Born in Canada-land, but well-knowledgable on saris and samosas ;-) …woah, did you seriously know a girl named Romi in high school…did you??? No you did NOT tell me this before…I don’t doubt that she was awesome, but I’m just wondering if it was…ME? Do I know you? Hahaha…
    PS: thanks for the “awesome-call”, likewise :-)

    talea: oh, my friend, my darling, how could it NOT be you? I love your whole “I don’t smile, big fucking deal, maybe it’s because you’re a loser” vibe ;-)

    on your crap story:

    -Crapping yourself and not knowing “why or how” might even be worse! It’s so confusing and tragic! By the way, GOOD CALL on trying the senior’s bathroom; it’s IMPERATIVE to avoid being recognized!

    And also, you’re a really good person to apologize to “janitor guy”, I hope he’s reading this :-)

    PS: thanks for the compliment; this post was my swan-song to 2007…2008 begs for a little change…

    Josh:
    I must say, I’m loving the fact that “beautiful” and “my crap story” are being used in the same sentence…it’s making me happy and excited (…it’s also bringing about the inkling for a “#2″, since I get all “#2-ish” when I’m nervous or excited…(I’m trying to decide if I should take out this nugget of truth (lol…nugget) or leave it in…ah fuck it, you all know me by now ;-) ))

    on your crap story:

    -Love your usage of the word “squirt” and “ass water” LOL…
    -I could totally picture you in the slammer washing your poo-clothes, and I felt so bad for you!
    -I’m SO sorry you had to sleep on a smelly crap-pillow, but good on you for rolling up the smelliest part in the middle!

    And finally, your comment -stories are the best, thanks for the consistent contributions :-)

    twps: Thanks for your bravery in sharing your tale, and on that note…

    on your crap story:

    -WHAT THE FUCK kind of parties were you sent to as a child, where there were “ex-lax” cakes…???? That sounds like something from a nightmare…
    -The “running down leg” part was probably the section where I cringed the most…
    -So you got new shorts which is well and good, but what about the poo-filled tall-socks?…did you have to keep those on all day? Needless to say, a rough-day in Thomas-world , yes?

    Simonne: if that was something that had happened to me a short while ago, I think I’d still be huddled in a corner somewhere, rocking back and forth from all the horror….seriously you’re HILARIOUS with the “temporary shutdown” :-)

    Yes, I was 8, so we can all laugh now, don’t worry!

    PS: I hardly think you’re old..seriously hush now, you’re lovely! :-)

    King Steve: gosh, I still think about that crazy dream you had (shudder)…it’s funny, I wanted to post this a few weeks ago, right after my “pee story”, but it was followed by so many people opening up and telling me their “poo stories”, that I didn’t wanna flood WordPress with too much poo (yuck)…I figured now was a good time though, what with the holidays and people prolly getting lots of diarrhea :-)

    PS: I aim to blame ALL of society’s ills (as well as my own personal issues) on babies ;-)

    Abarclay: who said anything about “writing excellence”? I though we were ONLY referring to my “magnificent and bouncy” rack…no?

    PS: I knew FOR SURE that you would relate to my use of “seductive” on an 8-yr-old, “raw ass-crack”, and “poo-stew”…seriously, it’s like I can really be myself around you ;-)


  22. David: Aren’t I SOOO disgusting though? (but you still know you want a piece, admit it ;-) )

    Right…I suppose there WAS a lot of fried food consumed on that day…hmm…and REALLY? You think mom will have a “crap her pants day”? I mean I’d kind of feel bad if she did, but on the other hand, the craving to say “HA!” still lives within me…

    moonbeammcqueen: thanks, you’re as delightfully sweet as the indian delicacies that made me shit my pants (tell me that’s NOT the best compliment you’ve ever received ;-) )

    And seriously, I apologize for making you feel like you were right there with me, that’s not cool…

    PS: I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself via my blog, and I’m quite pleased I came across yours as well :-)

    Red: haha, okay FINE, maybe I had no right to pull the “ewwww’ lever on your “chocolate mousse line”, considering I said horrible things like “poo stew”…hahaha…

    PS: I’m so glad you laughed…laughing is good for the soul, and I’m glad I could contribute to some positive “soul-action”…and the pictures, haha…once I googled one, I thought: why not add the whole 10-course meal as I experienced it? ;-)

    thedesktop: that was the clever-est poo-filled comment ever ;-) …I promise you there won’t be a “#2″ to this post, BELIEVE ME…

    dontdatethatdude: ass-wiping friends are better than friends with nice cars or big hearts…what more could you ask for? ;-)

    PS: I’m glad you didn’t actually shit your pants whilst reading this, ’cause even though I like you and all, I would so NOT wipe your ass in a time of need (I know, I’m kind of bitchy that way ;-) )

    cowgal: Happy Christmas to you as well, hope you had a good time :-)

    ladyinacoma: I love how they call it “irritable bowel syndrome”…GOD FORBID I should “irritate” my ass, friggin’ “Sensitive Sally”!

    Paul: I’m sorry you found yourself eating and reading about poo all at once (wait that came out wrong I think…)

    AND….since I’m kind of an ego-driven whore, I GASPED (with glee) when you said that there’s a chocolate bar called “Romi”, and I googled it right away! But…I couldn’t find it…is my chocolate alter-ego not popular enough to be on Google? And why the heck am I on the discount rack? How come I’m not the expensive stuff you get at the airport? So many questions….

    Leaf Probably: even at age 8, I loathed those wriggly baby-creatures, so my “flight or fight” response was clear: ATTACK, attack on the smelly ugly babies!! ;-)

    sexualtrex: I used to enjoy the world “radical”, but it started to remind me of “radishes”, which I hate, and I didn’t replace it with anything, so now I just express myself less in verbal form (it’s sad).

    And HEY: WHAT kind of math are you doing, and can you PLEASE, PLEASE teach it to me? Hahaha, I would love to be only 17, but in reality, you’re gonna have to add 9.75 years to that (and sure, I could’ve rounded up to an even “10 years”, but am I in any hurry to call myself 27? Fuck no.)….So since I’m NOT 17, please don’t ever, ever ease up on the crassness, it’s part of your allure :-)

    bronsonfive: haha…you are SO awesome for validating my 8-year-old seductiveness…and now that we know it’s okay, I should probably let you know that I was also a trampy five-year-old, and don’t even get me started on my skankish “terrible twos”… ;-)

    thatpessimist: HAHAHA, I love that you pointed out the foil-looking stuff on the indian sweets..WTF? I can honestly say that I don’t know what it is either…it’s just one of those things you don’t question, like Harrison Ford’s old-man-hotness, or the Spears’s sisters’ fertility….

    PS TO EVERYONE: For those of you who displayed the courage necessary to share your “poo stories”, I commend you (whilst giving you an affectionate ass slap ;-) ), and I really mean that; your tales made my holiday extra-special :-)


  23. Does the series really need to end? I just know you have some more up your sleeve….


  24. p.s. I wrote an embarrassing, actually traumatic post…you inspired me (even though it’s not poo or pee pee related). I know, those are the best but, hey.


  25. I will mail you the link… ;-)

    Now you say your Mom busts the story out a few times a year but you fail to mention how often you have this “problem”…


  26. Teeni. I may have you beat on the memory thing lol. Oh my god that sounds like an awful experience though I have experiences worse ;)


  27. whats an ass slap? Lol i am just a 16 year old girl after all!


  28. If Indian food is a two-faced whore, then Asian food is the one anthropomorphizing into the sort than dares one to pick one man fights against a medieval mob with torches and pitchforks.


  29. AWwwwwwwwwwwww, Thank you!!!! I’m so flattered! In exchange I will share a slightly less embarassing wedding story. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve already mentioned the plethora of times I pissed myself at school.

    It was my uncle Rob’s wedding, and I was the flower girl. I was the hyper flower girl. I was the hyper flower girl who ran up and down the aisle so many times that she eventually fell over into my own dizzy puddle of vomit.

    Yep. That’s me. I was a winner.


  30. Also, *sigh* since everyone else is sharing a crap story, I guess I should too. The only one that comes to mind is that one day when I was a kid, I was running around my grandmothers house. I was either naked or wearing a dress with no panties (something I still practice to this day, depending on the mood of the date). Anyways, as has happened to so many of us, I thought I was going to fart but instead let out a big wet plop. Obviously, with no panties, it landed very loudly, in front of my mother, right on the floor. I don’t remember what happened after that, I’ve probably repressed it. I also don’t remember how old exactly I was, but it was probably to old to be crapping on the floor.


  31. You know, when I see your little name all in lights on my blogroll telling me you’ve put up another entry, I always wait until I’ve woken up properly and sufficiently digested before clicking it open.

    But seeing as I pick up after a dog multiple times a day, this one didn’t gross me out as much as it could have. Perhaps the next entry could include any experiences with mullets or Achy Breaky Hearts. That’d gross me out pretty good and proper.


  32. Rachel: I could murk around in my embarrassing moments for YEARS, but eventually you would all just wish for me to shove a cookie down my throat and shut the hell up (I suspect some of you already do…but anyway it’s MY blog so fuck off…lol….uhh, what I MEANT to say was: my therapy is complete, so NO MORE!… ;-) )…I will tell you this though: embarrassing moments (whether ancient, recent), will continue to pop up now and again, just not in this exact structured form, not ever again…stay tuned though… :-)

    PS: I encourage everyone to read Rachel’s traumatic post, for the opportunity to laugh at (I mean with) her ;-) …seriously though I felt bad for you, you know that right? Right? Okay GOOD, big hugs :-)

    Paul: THANKS for sending me the link to the chocolate-bar version of myself; my once-floundering ego is as STRONG as ever!!!! :-)

    AND YO…TO EVERYONE: I’d like you to know that I’m a classic chocolatey treat weighing 200g, and full of sweet, sweet coconut! :-) (If that in any way sounds inappropriate, I don’t mean it to, and if it still does, I really don’t care, ’cause I’m a chocolate bar and YOU’RE not, so SUCK ON THAT!!! :-) )

    PS: How often do I, grown-up Romi, have this problem? Umm…I’m sorry sir, but that is priviledged information, and no one who reads my blog has the security clearance to know that, not even you Mr. Bond!

    kaylee2: Now when you leave a comment that says you’ve experienced “far worse” on an embarrassing scale, you know what my next question is….don’t you? I.E. “Like what???” ;-)

    PS: Oh Crap, you’re only 16?? You know…my blog doesn’t have a rating, and though it’s not TOO vulgar, I know the comment thread can be (and yes, it’s ME who contributes a lot to that vulgarity)…I hope you’re not too offended, and I’m sure you’re well-mature, but this is not a family-friendly environment, so apologies in advance if maybe you are!

    PPS: An ass slap is just what it sounds like; like you know in baseball when the coach ass-slaps all the players in an affectionate “job well done” kinda way? Just like that :-) ….

    Virgilius: Only Asian food would be bold enough to pick a fight with a medieval mob carrying pitch-forks, but I don’t doubt that in the least; much respect to Asian food…

    Greenie:

    on your wedding story:

    -Oooh…vomit, that’s a new one! I never delved into the vomit stories in my “Top 5″; I knew something was missing, so thanks for covering it off! (and the “dizzying pile” imagery is just perfect…I can almost taste the bile….yuuccckkk.. ;-) )

    on your crap story:

    -First of all, I love how you came back 5 min later and fell weak to my “crap-story-sharing” charms, hahaha…
    -Secondly I think the idea of grown-up “you” running around in a dress “sans underwear” is gonna get the fellas a little worked up ;-)
    -Thirdly…”PLOP!”….the acoustics on that “plop” were not a good accompaniment to my breakfast…I understand the repression-thing though; the same thing happened to me when a girl-bully fed me hamster poo once, like I have no idea what happened afterwards, but that’s another story which I will never share in detail ;-)

    Dr. J: Finally, SOMEONE who is smart enough to digest BEFORE reading my posts (hint, hint, Paul!!)

    I also like that your relationship with your dog has helped de-sensitize you, you’ll have to thank him for me :-)

    And finally, “mullet and achy breaky hearts” eh? I just KNEW you had an achilles heel! ;-)


  33. Romi, you have just inspired me to write a post all about throwing up. Yesssss.


  34. When I was reading this tale of “crapulence,” I completely forgot the fact that the year was 1989, and that you were 8. I was getting a pretty vivid picture of a grown up Romi in a bathroom stall with stains on her sari.

    Happy holidays and I hope you have a stain-free new year’s!


  35. Thats okay its finre for me so far if It get worse I will just not come by anymore ;)


  36. I’ve never eaten Indian food, however, your descriptions and pictures (despite the story) have led me to believe that I need Indian food now more than ever.

    This could also be my 6 week pregnant stomach talking.

    Great story Romi!!!


  37. Bless your disgusting 27 year old heart romi, you’ve struck pure crap GOLD here with this abominable shit-ass post. Everyone loves a nice crap story! Farting is funny forever! Let’s hope that there’s a good two decades before you have to help your mother out with this kind of problem, or better yet, that you never do. Since it was a friend of your mother that came to your rescue, maybe you’ll be spared having to clean up after your own mom. Who knows? One can only hope that the Gods of Poop will have mercy on you as you walk your crappy path. Into each life some poop must enter. Looking forward to your next post.

    2008 is gonna be GREAT!!


  38. greenie: I just ate breakfast, but I don’t care, I’m heading over to that vomit post…yes, I wanna know how you wrote a whole post on vomiting (I’m afraid, but I still wanna know ;-) )….

    hroman: “crapulence” is a new word that has just settled into the “Romi Dictionary”, thanks :-)

    Hmmm…it’s funny, you’re not the first person to have said you almost thought it was a grown-up romi in a poo-stained sari, crapping her grown-up ass off…I almost get the feeling that YOU want grown-up Romi to experience such an incident…I’ll see what I can do, and I make no promises that New Years will be stain-free ;-) , but a happy one to you as well! :-)

    kaylee2:
    that’s fair enough, and based on what I know about myself, you’ll probably be jumping ship at some point (LOL), but until then, enjoy yourself :-)

    TheRightWife: welcome…I’m sorry we had to meet under these disgusting circumstances ;-)

    Despite my once-in-a-lifetime incident, Indian food is great, and I highly recommend it for you and the little one; you might as well get him/her hooked early ;-)

    PS: so you’re “the right wife” eh? What does that mean? Actually don’t answer that, I’ll be swinging by your site to find out ;-)

    David: Pure-crap GOLD eh? That’s quite the compliment, and while I appreciate it, I’m still clinging to age 26, so please let me have my last 3 months, PLEASE!

    And I hope I have at least 20 more years until I have to join up for “services to mom”, not that I don’t owe it to her for my years of brat-tacular behaviour ;-)

    PS: nice use of poo-references through-out your comment, “abominable shit-ass post” was a personal favourite ;-)

    PPS: As for my next post…well…I’m currently in a mild state of “blog-identity-crisis”, but I can say with confidence that it’s near resolution. I’ll have something soon, and once I get started in 2008, you’ll have a tough time getting rid of me ;-)


  39. Sorry old lady. So happy birthday. In March or whenever. Scatological humor is pretty sure fire, but you sustained it very nicely in SUPER-Embarrassing Moment #5: Oh Crap. I don’t see how you’ll ever be able to top that for pure gross-out comedy. Didn’t mean to go gloomy on you with the eldercare allusions, it’s just part of the Great Circle of Crap. I think you know what I mean.

    Good luck finding your new blog identity! I hope it’s as charming and well written as your current identity.

    Happy New Year;-)


  40. Wha … what the fuck did I just read? My eyes! My eyes are burning! This was hilarious. It’s like when I was 8 and threw up all over my relatives at the Thanksgiving dinner table in Valley’s Steak House. Why the hell didn’t I know about this blog?! I’m blaming all you other people for not telling me about this. Basically you, David.

    Romi. You. Are. Hilarious!


  41. I’m sorry Wendy, I assumed that you’d already been here. I’ll take the blame, but not the responsibility.

    I tried to leave a link to romi’s poo post in a comment just left on joanharvest’s How I broke my ass post, but messed it up somehow. Think she’d like that sort of thing?


  42. Oh my God, My broken ass hurts from laughing. Thank you David, for sending me here. That’s the funniest damn story I’ve heard in a while. Unfortunately I have a similar one but fortunately I was alone in my car. I had just gone to the hospital and had to drink a gallon of some white stuff for some test I can’t even remember (all of it was a waste of white stuff and time). There was nothing wrong with me. Anyway, on the way home all the white stuff and I mean all of it, decided it wasn’t going to stay in my body anymore. Thank goodness no one was home when I got there because I would have been mortified. The clean up took forever. One good thing, it was peppermint flavored so it smelled sort of good.

    Hi Romi41, you have a way with words. Great story. I’ve seen your postings recently on Life With Buck. I love Wendy. She’s my sister’s best friend. Visit my blog and find out how I broke my ass this week.

    I have a good skunk story I’m going to write about soon. It happened in 1989. My daughter still buys me skunk stuff like little statues and stuffed animals. I even have a skunk hat. I guess she never wants me to forget it.


  43. Hey Romi!

    Huh? ;-)

    See?

    Nothing like a good crap story to bring out all us old farts!

    Now don’t leave us hanging on New Year’s Eve young lady. Please take a moment from the evening’s dissipations to remember your blogosphere. Then keep on partying!

    joanharvest came up with this: Have a Great Eight!


  44. Happy New Year to you and your readers!

    I hope we don’t crap ourselves tonight but if we do- blog it bitches!


  45. David: my New Year’s festivities could not possiblly begin without wishing you all a “Great Eight”! ;-)

    By the way, thanks for acknowledging my true age, I’ll be sure to have myself a pity party in April though ;-)

    You’re right, how do you top a “poo post”? You can’t, which is why 2008 calls for a new direction; I really DO hope you find it as charming and fun as what you see here… ;-)

    PS: thanks for linking me to joanharvest’s post; I’m very intrigued by how her ass “broke” (crap, that sounds awful..)

    Wendy: holy crap, I made your eyes burn? Well at least I didn’t make your ass-crack burn, so let’s look at the bright side, yes? ;-)

    PS: I think you’re rather hilarious as well, and I’ve never heard anyone say that they threw up all over their relatives at a restaurant (whether 8 years old or not), so you basically made my day by telling me that..LOL…

    joanharvest: I’m so glad David used his poo-matchmaking skills to bring us together!!! I’m glad you liked my memory, and I’m a little concerned about how you broke your ass, so I’ll have to check that out (your post, not your ass…goodness!)

    PS: “at least it was peppermint flavoured”…wow, congrats to you for finding a silver (and minty) lining :-)

    PPS: skunk-stories are cool by default; can’t wait to read yours ;-)

    Rachel: you’re so cute for swinging by with your New Year’s greetings! :-) Right back at ya, and I DO NOT intend on unleashing any “poo-chute” horror tonight…I’d like to keep the puke-chute closed as well….moderate and controlled good times please, that’s all I need :-)

    And finally…Happy New Year to All and TO ALL A GOOD NITE!!

    See you bitches in 2008!!!
    ;-)


  46. Oh my f**king GOD!!! Romi…you’ve outdone yourself this time. Your posts keep me coming back for more, but your shamelessness is what makes this. Oddly enough these stories often include lack of bodily function control.

    I’m seriously laughing here like a fool. All I can picture is that dinner scene from the second Indiana Jones movie.

    http://www.indianajones.de/indy2/pics/film/doom_41.jpg

    AND THIS:


  47. Andy…

    Holy…fucking…crap.

    Do you know what just happened to me?

    I just watched that YouTube clip you posted, and I very nearly threw up on my bed from laughing…I mean I’m dead serious, I have tears running down my cheeks right now from all the laughter…

    THAT…VIDEO…WAS…the classic, cliched, Indian music video from hell…

    I am so familiar with these, because they pop up in my dad’s favourite Indian movies all the time!

    You know what the best is about these Indian music videos? It’s that whenever they feature a “westernized” Indian-chick, she’s always SUPER-whorish, because I guess that’s the Indian perception of what the Western culture will do to an innocent village girl: IT WILL TURN YOU INTO A SLUT…haha…like seriously, I can’t remember the last time I wore: a tube top, an open leather jacket, and 4-inch red heels as my “out for an afternoon” outfit, LOL… :-)

    And damn, I hope that my soul-mate comes to me in the form of an Indian man with a fake gold watch, high-wasted jeans, and a tucked in t-shirt…HOT…haha…

    Oh, and because I thought this was so hilarious, I decided to copy and past a couple of the comments off the YouTube link:

    tarekibrahim11 (4 months ago)

    -”MY FAV SONG!”

    sahilbajwa (7 months ago)

    -”omg awesome, this song is played at weddings lol
    can someone upload “mera long gavacha

    “omg awesome” indeed…hahaha…thanks Andy :-)


  48. [...] Love hate relationship with Indian food (check it here) [...]


  49. I seriously do not think I have ever laughed so hard before. You are a brave brave girl for sharing this! ;)


  50. Lucky!??!?! How the hell did you find this post? This one was supposed to be buried in my 2007 shame-bin!!!!


  51. DUDE!!!


  52. [...] was a terrible moment, one that I wanted banned from my permanent memory (like the time I pooed my pants at a wedding), but as the morning wore on my mind become obsessed with the mane, and every “manly [...]


  53. Oh, this was one big pile of embarrasing memories, thanks for sharing! Do you feel the ugly baby will remember the false accusation and grow up to seek revenge after you? Hope not. ;)


  54. [...] at work. I tried. How disgusting are they? (Rhetorical question) So disgusting that they would turn even Romi’s stomach! Moving on … Let’s see where were [...]


  55. Oh My God. I’m reading this blog till my pants are as crap filled as this gruesome tale. Similar story…only I was 4, but if I said that i’d be shamefully lying for a 7 year old Indian with problems waist deep in shit. I crapped my pants locked in the chains of god foresaken overalls. All my aunts and uncles made excuses for me,”Well…she was adopted, she needs to adjust..”( FROM THE CRAP FILLED OVERALLS OF INDIA I PRESUME YOU ARE REFFERING?!…and adopted…5 YEARS PRIOR.) As I sat with my chin down, I thought I was the only child with poop smeared undies, if sexy kids like Romi can do it, then the rules to cool have been rewritten!

    Ps-I don’t touch that shit anymore!(overalls or anything crazy-spiced, in my white surrounded world, the culprit is flaming hot cheetos)



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 51 other followers

%d bloggers like this: