Hideous
Mustard.
Babyfood, if I can claim that’s one word. Like, strained-peas-&-beef-horror baby food.
Or, yeah, puke. Mustard. Babyshit.
Bile.
Gasp
…which usually is followed by, ‘how can such a sweet lil thing (baby) produce something so gross looking?’
Mustard.
How about diarrhea?
Maize. Like, the Crayola color.
Dammit! I was going to say that.
Bingo! That’s the one I was thinking of.
That’s the color we’re using for the hallway trim and doors throughout a good portion of our house – and I hate it. Actually, let me rephrase…I hate it in large doses, like on a door. It looks very nice on the trim – it compliments the walls and carpet nicely.
Hmmm…maybe if we use this on the trim and go with a darker, less “anally extruded” color on the doors?
The first thing I thought if is pumpkin. Not deep orange in a patch pumpkin, but like maybe pumpkin soup(?)
Vomit.
It does remind me, in a horrible way, of how everything architectural in the 70’s was one of the following colors:
Babypoo
Babybarf
Dogbarf
Bloodystool
Rancidguacamole
What the hell was up with that decade? Was all this just a severe abdominal-distress rebellion against the 1950s skyblue, limegreen, and tangerine colors?
Poop.
That’s a color my mother used to refer to as “shit-brindle brown.” Ugh. 
I thought of my dad’s kitchen, which was last decorated in the seventies. The cupboards and floor are both that color. I kind of like it.
Mustardy. And that was me being generous.
Bilious.
1970’s.
Babyshit. (And I was careful not to scroll down before clicking.) Second: diarrhea.
Third: tobacco stained walls, trim, ceiling and lungs.