The putrid smell of fish puss that clings to the fingers and under the nails of one's digits that were inserted into the dirty box of a dirty whore.
Frank: Hey Carl. Did you have fish for lunch? I think I smell grunions and malt vinegar.
Carl: Hell no braaaahhh. I finger fucked that homeless whore that hangs around the park. You my friend are smelling my Sardine Fingers.
Frank: Dude I'm fixing to chunk my lunch.
Carl: Hell no braaaahhh. I finger fucked that homeless whore that hangs around the park. You my friend are smelling my Sardine Fingers.
Frank: Dude I'm fixing to chunk my lunch.
by Eaton Holgoode April 8, 2015