Flaygrance

The mix of flavor and fragrance. You taste what you smell, you smell what you taste.

"His flaygrance was so very specific."

by Bagoogalee July 20, 2024

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Countess Boochie Flagrante

The alter ego responsible for anything bad you were caught doing. Originally a meme based on a Tumblr user that claimed "Eminem isn't violent, Slim Shady is," and the response "im robbing a bank tomorrow and when the cops come for me imma tell them it was my alter ego countess boochie flagrante," it is now used for any time someone tries a "that isn't really who I am" excuse.

Person: "I'm sorry about that videoed incident of me screaming racial slurs at minorities! I just want you to know, that does not represent the sort of person I am."

Everyone Else: "Yeah, sure - it wasn't you, it was your alter ego, Countess Boochie Flagrante."

Person: "I'm sorry I fucked your husband and then, when when the affair became public, spread terrible rumors about you so that I'd look like less of a homewrecker. I want you to know, that's not who I really am."

Wife: "Ah yes! You didn't tell the neighborhood I was a bipolar valium addict, it was your famous alter-ego Countess Boochie Flagrante."

Person: "I'm sorry for embezzling from that children's charity! That's not who I really am!"

Everyone Else: "Countess Boochie Flagrante strikes again!"

by Mai Ainsel November 6, 2019

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Heinous Anus Fragrance

Flatulence of the worst kind. A severe fart that is like an obscene phone call from nature. The air--dank, fetid, unsavory and far from fresh--feels as if it is being exhaled into one's face from a nuclear blast channeled through an unkempt brown eye. Sometimes the smell even tastes like effluvious rotting death- beer vomit, infected diarrhea, gangrene, and the mystery smell of the river entering the ocean at low tide, amplifying the intrusion of feculent compost. It is obscene and repulsive, harsh and violent at the same time. In close proximity, miles from the barking bowels of the guilty anus, the air maintains this quality of putrid death, although unknown where it acquired a tinge of Satan's rectum, perhaps due to fumes expelled by tormented souls asses being delivered by rancid demons.

A smell awoke him. It was a scent as old as time. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand skunks. It was the tang of sweaty underarm. It was the musk of rough anal sex. It was the muscular rot of Gruyère cheese in urine. It was the spice of rotting savorous road kill. Meaty and redolent of death with decay and repugnant rot. It was horrid and offensive and nauseating and obscene. It was solid and alive - so alive! And it was close, lying right next to him in fact. The vapors invaded his nostrils and his hair rose to their roots. His eyes were as heavy as manhole covers, but he opened them. Through the dying calm inside him snaked the horrible realization that she had expelled another heinous anus fragrance.

by keifermail April 15, 2014

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