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Random embarrassing instances about Romo's old man

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Let me pass on a little bit of wisdom to our younger members. When you get into your 50's, you've raised a few kids, life has settled into a pattern, and you like to have some moments of peace and quiet by yourself.

Doesn't matter how family-oriented you are, men just need a bit of space from time to time. It makes everything work and maintains the peace in a household.

However, this is easier to visualize than to accomplish. If you ask for something like this, your loved one will probably wonder if you are up to something. The kids remaining at home get their noses out of joint. What is needed is a way to get people to give you space, freely and of their own volition.

In this respect, I think Romo's Dad possibly deserves a nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize.

I know what you are thinking, that seems a bit over the top, but give me a chance to explain. Formerly, for many of us, there was no reliable way to get people to freely want to give you that space. In my opinion, Romo's Dad has made a major contribution in charting an efficient and effective way forward.

It's Human Rights Day in South Africa, a national holiday. Last night, I ate a plate of 50 shrimp with lots of spicy sauce, it may have been a bit too much shrimp but I really wanted to give this a chance to work. BP is really such a great place to learn lessons that lead to a mastery of life.

Today, I am a new man, working in peace and quiet in my study in a household. The entire family is out exercising their human rights, away from a house that they have evacuated freely. I did not need to ask and, with the windows open, it is not too onerous to stay here in the breech, so to speak.

I think Romo's Dad has made an important contribution to mankind and for that, like others, I am grateful.
 
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So it's my 8th grade year and my grade school had a pretty good basketball team. We got through the tournament in the Cleveland area and we made it to the All-Ohio tournament. The first game we played, we got beat pretty bad. The team we played was the eventual state champs, and they had a couple kids wind up going to college to play ball. Anyway, my dad loved to video tape all the games and since we were playing so bad, my dad decided to express his displeasure. So he's on the tape saying we're playing like crap, ripping into me the most. After the game, he comes up to me and says, "Hey, that was a good team you played, they'll probably win it all, but you played like crap, what was up with the ups and downs and that airball free throw?" "I don't know, I wasn't thinking." "I'll say." Thanks dad, but we still have another game tomorrow for 3rd place mother fucker. So after the game, the team, and parents, and fans are all standing around in the school lobby wondering what to do, where to eat. No joke, and it seems to be recurring, my dad chimes in, "How about Chi Chi's?" The entire group in one swift swoop says, "Okay." Meanwhile, my mom is about ready to head down to the Guns 'n Ammo store, buy a shotgun, and end it. She knew what was going to happen. As a group we go to Chi Chi's. I hated Chi Chi's back then, so I always got the chicken fingers, but my dad on the other hand loved the place. Seems like he always suggested it. He could never get enough of their chips and salsa. Honestly, to the point of going to Sam's Club and buying the salsa jar big enough to feed a small army. Like this thing was so big it didn't fit on any shelf, it had to go on the bottom rack of the door next to the 2 liter of Pepsi. Anyway, getting back to the trip. My mom is sitting there with all the other moms and my dad is sitting there with all the other dads and all the kids were at the end of the long table. We're all sitting there enjoying each other's company, and I can see my dad dominating these little dishes of salsa and plowing through the bowls of chips. After he got done with a jar, he moved onto the next one, and then asked my mom to "pass the chippies and hot sauce." My mom politely obliged, and within a minute it was gone. He then got up from the table, walked his ass down to our end, and grabbed 2 more dishes of salsa and a bowl of chips. He had about 3 empty bowls of chips in front of him, and about 7 empty dishes of salsa. Granted, he didn't eat all of them, but certainly the vast majority was consumed by himself. Such a courageous feat accomplished by a 5'10" 185 lb man. Keep in mind, this was premeal. So my dad always got the same thing too. He got the Chimichunga combo platter, complete with a heaping portion of Chi Chi's famous refried beans. Perfect! He looks to the waitress after he orders, and says to her with one eye shut, "Last time I was at a Chi Chi's I barely made it home. My wife loves me very much, but you need to crank it up a notch. Extra hot since we're in that hotel across the street." So the food comes and the smell of pepper sauce is eminating from this slop of disgusting Mexican mess that is known as the Chimichunga, and my dad digs in. He's also the type of guy to make a huge scene when something is way too hot or stinks to high heaven, or if he drinks too much pop, has no problem letting everyone else in the radius of 3 miles know about it. Almost in unison, the entire group of 40 or so, turn their heads and watch my dad let out what one might think to be a mating call of some animal in the jungle. Mouth agape, beads of sweat dribbling down his forehead, eyes shut, making terrifying noises. He muscles down the first bite, turns to my mom and says, "We got one room right?" Turns to his plate while he starts to laugh, and then mauls the rest of his Chimichunga. We get back to the room and immediately my dad heads for the toilet. He's in there for at least 20 minutes and my mom is pissed, "You're stinking up the whole g@#$&%!ed hotel room, flush the toilet will you!" "I did already." "Well flush it again!" "Why don't you fix me a bowl of fiber flakes and a glass of prune juice." "You make me sick!" "Haaaaaahahahahaha!" The entire night my mom periodically had to get up, open the hotel room door to let the dead of winter air filter into our room. The smell of sulfuric fumes alone were enough to drop a horse, but combine that with the heat in our room was recipe for the whole place going up in flames. Needless to say the night was disappointing, entertaining, funny, smelly, and much more. We won our game the next day too. It was a good weekend, but I'm convinced my blood gas level is permanently over .1! I've got another story, but that's for another time.

Enjoy!

Romo
 
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Romo's dad after forgetting the "courtesy flush"

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So it's that time of year again for another Romo's Dad story. I told Buckyle that my old man gives my mom the book "The Art of the Fart" for Christmas, but it gets better. So on the 23rd, my dad drops by with some potato salad. I don't eat the stuff, so I give it to my mom.

Christmas Eve is here and as a family, we go to my aunt and uncle's place. My mom says to my dad, "You know, your potato salad wasn't bad, it's actually pretty good."

My old man says, "good, glad you enjoyed it, there's more where it came from."

Mom says, "what do you mean? You made more?"

Dad, "Yeah I made more. I only gave you 3 lbs of it. I made 15 more!"

Mom, "What!?!?! 18 lbs of potato salad? Why would you do that? Nobody eats 18 lbs of potato salad! Who are you going to give it to?"

Dad, "My aunt and uncle like it, I'll give it to them."

Mom, "Absolutely not, that's insane."

Dad, "oh come off it, they'll like it."

Mom, "That's not the point, who makes 18 lbs of potato salad for Christmas? No one eats more than a spoonful either to be polite!"

Me, "Yeah dad, did you clean Giant Eagle out of potatoes?"

Dad, "Fine, I'll eat it."

So we get there and we're having sausage with other ethnic foods for dinner and my dad politely excuses himself after his 6th glass of wine and 4th heaping helping of potato salad and goes to the bathroom. Their house is old and doesn't have a fan and you can hear everything. Dude takes a leak and my mom is trying to talk louder so my aunt and uncle can't hear. Comes out and says, "You know, there's no fan in there! Probably should get one. They help." At that point, I knew what was about to happen.

Aunt and uncle have no idea what my dad is talking about. Then slowly but surely, whatever leaked out of my dad's a$$ breezes past the kitchen with sauerkraut, sausage, 15 lbs of potato salad, pickled herring, and the Good Lord knows what else and reaches our nostrils. I'm sitting there breathing out of my mouth. I look at my mom and she's dying of embarrassment. I look at my dad and he has this look on his face of "Hot damn I can clear a room. Someone put me up for a medal!"

Mom turns and says, "Was that necessary? You couldn't wait til you got home? You never cease to amaze me."

Dad says, "I was quiet, no fan, no window, what?"

Me, "Santa got you 40 boxes of baking soda, enjoy"

My aunt and uncle are my dad's aunt and uncle so they're a little older. They don't know the first thing about vents, fans or anything of the sort, and my dad just flat out does that. No respect!

Merry Christmas right. Hope everybody enjoyed theirs. I had to deal with my dad, y'all are lucky you didn't!
 
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Romo, I can sympathize. Not only is my father the (local apparently) king of foul odor, but he is a sick, twisted fucker too.

When I was a kid, we would drive from Ohio to Florida to visit my mother's relations (they are from Jax). He liked to eat these red radishes while he was driving. Raw, red radishes. Then the fucker would belch. A horrible, stinking, malodorous emanation. I tried to roll down my window, but it wouldn't work! The fucker had locked them shut!

Fucker.

:shake:
 
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Yes! Not sure if I made a post of that, but he would put on some music in the basement and just listen to tunes in undies. He was so proud that he had e dry billboard top 100 hit from the beginning until 2000 or something like that.

It was quite the collection. He also has thousands of burned dvds. We had a bit of a falling out for a time, but have since reconciled. For a moment, I was thinking of calling the FBI and tipping them off that some old man is burning dvds and attempting to sell the bootleg copies out of his trunk in the Giant Eagle parking lot.

My dad is still alive too. He just turned 84 and gets around nicely. Still drives, sees his grand kids pretty regularly. Rips ass with the best of them, but he just doesn’t realize it anymore. Something about old age I guess. My mom passed away in July of ‘24, and her health kind of brought our family together. I have no siblings so I had no choice.

While my mom was still alive, my dad would buy a frosty from Wendy’s and take one to her every night. At first, my mom would get so angry. She would look at him when he entered the room and have this look of disgust. He would sit next to her, but she would get so pissed off she would grab a fork or a knife and try to jab him to go away. It was hilarious. The staff at the nursing home got a kick out of it.

Good shit.
 
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Romanowski said:
Yes! Not sure if I made a post of that, but he would put on some music in the basement and just listen to tunes in undies. He was so proud that he had e dry billboard top 100 hit from the beginning until 2000 or something like that.

It was quite the collection. He also has thousands of burned dvds. We had a bit of a falling out for a time, but have since reconciled. For a moment, I was thinking of calling the FBI and tipping them off that some old man is burning dvds and attempting to sell the bootleg copies out of his trunk in the Giant Eagle parking lot.

My dad is still alive too. He just turned 84 and gets around nicely. Still drives, sees his grand kids pretty regularly. Rips ass with the best of them, but he just doesn’t realize it anymore. Something about old age I guess. My mom passed away in July of ‘24, and her health kind of brought our family together. I have no siblings so I had no choice.

While my mom was still alive, my dad would buy a frosty from Wendy’s and take one to her every night. At first, my mom would get so angry. She would look at him when he entered the room and have this look of disgust. He would sit next to her, but she would get so pissed off she would grab a fork or a knife and try to jab him to go away. It was hilarious. The staff at the nursing home got a kick out of it.

Good shit.
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Yeah - my mom passed in October of 2021. It brought us all much closer together. My dad is 78 and he also rips ass with the best of them - except he doesn't care who realizes it :lol:

I think our dads would get along great :slappy:
 
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So maybe one last story.

I worked for a bank for many years as a financial advisor/rm and at one point, I was the only male employee in the branch. I was eating lunch one day, and the branch manager came running into the break room. She was hysterical; nearly beside herself.

She says to me, “Come quick, there is a disheveled looking man with a machete, who just came into the lobby. He looked around and walked out. Please please hurry.”

I’m understandably nervous and I asked if they rang the silent alarm and they had not done so because this man had walked out without a fuss. So I cut my lunch short, walked out, and got back to my desk. Everything is good. I did not face the door, but the manager did. She turned white as a ghost and ran o er to my desk practically crying, “He’s back, he’s back, he has a huge knife.” I thought she was going to stroke out or have a heart attack.

I looked up at the man, and immediately buried my head in my hands. I said, “That’s my dad. He told me he was going to give me a chopping blade to borrow to cut down some thick brush at my in-law’s place on Kelleys Island. I told him to give me a call before he got here.”

I was so embarrassed. I told him that he can’t pull that shit. He had just got done working on his car, so he was wearing ripped up greasy jeans and a stained t-shirt. His hair was all o er the place and he legit looked like a psychopath. He completely blew it off as no big deal. I told him you can’t walk into a bank, or anywhere for that matter, looking like a bum holding a 15” chopper. Didn’t give two shits. He pretty much said that’s what you get when you work with a bunch of women. I just shook my head.

Needless to say I had to apologize profusely to the staff.
 
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