SmellsFargo
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SmellsFargo
A Rose by any other name or some shit
I wasn't sure what to expect when I first got this because jovoy has a pretty excellent reputation within the community, and well deserved I might add. so I noticed that your voice prices on quite a few fragrances dropped precipitously and that's when I chose strike see I've been looking at Rose millisieme for about a good year now but could never find it discounted.
anywho fuck all that dumb shit let's talk about the juice shall we? first Spritz you get hit with an atomic bomb of acrid, sharp rose. it's hachibat level explosive but instead of bergamot slash pineapple it's rose. I'm not going to lie I was really really scared that I was about to come in for a major fucking disappointment, and disappointed I was...
for about half an hour. after the 30-minute Mark or so, the explosion dies down a fair bit while still retaining an impressive projection. and the acrid and sharpness of the opening is no longer there, they Rose is still full in effect but then the candied apple comes through and that's when you hit nirvana.
the first time you wear it your nose is so overloaded with the blast radius of the rose that it takes you a while to notice when the candied apple comes in, as for me I noticed it about 4 hours in.; second time you wear it the opening is still loud but nowhere near as harsh and you notice the candy apple right away you take a nice big whiff of your sprayed area and all I can imagine is he rose being sucked up to a UFO that is my nostril, but it is holding hands with the candied apple which is sort of lagging behind but still ever present.
and that's pretty much what you get for the entirety of the fragrance well at least on my skin. and I must say that I enjoy its semi complexity; it isn't as complex as something as T-Rex from zoologist or accento overdose from xerjoff, nor is it as linear as something like Prada l'homme or Apollonia. it changes once and maybe twice on the very back end of the dry down but essentially you just get a big big afternoon experience of candied apple and rose .
as far as performance goes, you really get your bang for your buck here. not only does IT project fairly strongly for about 4 hours, but at last a really long time as I get anywhere from 10 to 12 hours on this in the highest heats of New York City summer. but when I mean that it is powerful I do not take it lightly; I recently went to a friend of mine home and I sat on her couch for only 40 minutes before I left and three days later she still smells it on her throw pillows.
great release, great take on a rose scent, and longevity and projection you definitely get what you pay for and then some.
anywho fuck all that dumb shit let's talk about the juice shall we? first Spritz you get hit with an atomic bomb of acrid, sharp rose. it's hachibat level explosive but instead of bergamot slash pineapple it's rose. I'm not going to lie I was really really scared that I was about to come in for a major fucking disappointment, and disappointed I was...
for about half an hour. after the 30-minute Mark or so, the explosion dies down a fair bit while still retaining an impressive projection. and the acrid and sharpness of the opening is no longer there, they Rose is still full in effect but then the candied apple comes through and that's when you hit nirvana.
the first time you wear it your nose is so overloaded with the blast radius of the rose that it takes you a while to notice when the candied apple comes in, as for me I noticed it about 4 hours in.; second time you wear it the opening is still loud but nowhere near as harsh and you notice the candy apple right away you take a nice big whiff of your sprayed area and all I can imagine is he rose being sucked up to a UFO that is my nostril, but it is holding hands with the candied apple which is sort of lagging behind but still ever present.
and that's pretty much what you get for the entirety of the fragrance well at least on my skin. and I must say that I enjoy its semi complexity; it isn't as complex as something as T-Rex from zoologist or accento overdose from xerjoff, nor is it as linear as something like Prada l'homme or Apollonia. it changes once and maybe twice on the very back end of the dry down but essentially you just get a big big afternoon experience of candied apple and rose .
as far as performance goes, you really get your bang for your buck here. not only does IT project fairly strongly for about 4 hours, but at last a really long time as I get anywhere from 10 to 12 hours on this in the highest heats of New York City summer. but when I mean that it is powerful I do not take it lightly; I recently went to a friend of mine home and I sat on her couch for only 40 minutes before I left and three days later she still smells it on her throw pillows.
great release, great take on a rose scent, and longevity and projection you definitely get what you pay for and then some.
Crazy juxtaposition
I first smelled this at the beginning of my fragrance journey over 2 years ago and absolutely did not care for it; this gave me obscenely wealthy old man energy and I did not care for it. Now however, maybe it's because my nose has opened up considerably along my journey or maybe it's because I've gotten older (certainly haven't gotten richer) but I can appreciate this for what it is and I actually like this a lot now. Even more interesting considering that it has a combination of notes that I usually do not like in my fragrances so it is with the utmost irony that all of them put together was blended in a way that I actually find this extremely wearable.
My original statement still does stand however, as this does smell like an older very very well to do gentlemen. Someone who owns some sort of water fairing vehicle, wears an ascot every opportunity he gets, most likely does not trim his pubic hair and the false ideology that that helps in one's vitality and youthful energy; perhaps someone who invests in the industrial prison complex.
Either way unless your nose is a seasoned veteran at a young age, I can't see anyone under 30 appreciating this let alone wanting to wear it. Now, I have done none of the aforementioned things, I still look forward to wearing this when the weather cools down.
Signature scent worthy
My original statement still does stand however, as this does smell like an older very very well to do gentlemen. Someone who owns some sort of water fairing vehicle, wears an ascot every opportunity he gets, most likely does not trim his pubic hair and the false ideology that that helps in one's vitality and youthful energy; perhaps someone who invests in the industrial prison complex.
Either way unless your nose is a seasoned veteran at a young age, I can't see anyone under 30 appreciating this let alone wanting to wear it. Now, I have done none of the aforementioned things, I still look forward to wearing this when the weather cools down.
Signature scent worthy
New Game +
Your character is spec'd out to the max; yes even the luck attribute. You spent 50 hours alone on side quests (remember you have to rescue that lady's cat from the tree and it turned out you uncovered a sex trafficking ring ran by A dragon panda bear?) And another 40 grinding the Cave if Foreskin, and 14 spent on the actual storyline, for this exact moment; the boss lair.
After another half an hour of battling waves and waves of the hardest enemies in the entire game (and most difficult to boot) you see it; the boss door. The game tells you that beyond this door you are no longer able to upgrade or finish any side missions afterwards, you decide that you're ready anyway.
Open the door, in a cutscene cues as the camera pans around the room; invaluable paintings thought ti have been lost to time impeccably hung on the walls, a piano made of the finest mahogany and elephant tusk known to man, all the while lost upon your gaze are the cornucopia of people mingling about, from senators, to actors, to regular blue collar folk, just living a life as care free as can be.
You then start to hear the clacking noise from upstairs; the sounds of footsteps. The camera zooms up a long flight of marble stairs, only to see a young man standing there. The camera pans him up and down; hair impeccably slicked back and yet in a coif, a black suit tailored to die for, a bulge that's reminiscent of someone trying to smuggle a carton of Parliament lights, and a pair of burnt orange shoes so shiny that the wicked is which asked who's the fairest of them all.
As you get ready to challenge the final boss, he cuts through the tension in the air and asked if you want a bottle of water, with the caveat being "hey sorry my assistant called out sick so I haven't had anyone to run my errands so you're going to get handed a bottle of Costco bottled water and I hope that's okay"
You're mentally disarmed as this guy is sinister, dare I say satanic, yet he's incredibly suave profusely amiable and his charm attribute is definitely maxed the fuck out.
Let him know that you're there to kill him to avenge the destruction of your village and to save the world, and in return he rebuffs your challenge and says that there's no need to fight, when you get a shockingly strong sense of sincerity coming from his voice. He said that it's all a big misunderstanding, to which you will have nothing about.
After your repeated denial of his advances of friendship and amicable parting, he begrudgingly sighs and agrees to your duel. "But before we begin do me a favor will ya? Take your scimitar and just slit your own throat for me"; as you laugh at his suggestion you notice that your arm is uncontrollably lifting said scimitar and just slides it across your neck. Your character bleeds out as the boss utters "we didn't have to do this" in an utterly somber tone while the phrase"you're dead, stupid" is plastered along the screen, realizing he hit you with his mind control attack.
Sam Haram is for those who wish to be the final boss instead of the hero of their journey.
After another half an hour of battling waves and waves of the hardest enemies in the entire game (and most difficult to boot) you see it; the boss door. The game tells you that beyond this door you are no longer able to upgrade or finish any side missions afterwards, you decide that you're ready anyway.
Open the door, in a cutscene cues as the camera pans around the room; invaluable paintings thought ti have been lost to time impeccably hung on the walls, a piano made of the finest mahogany and elephant tusk known to man, all the while lost upon your gaze are the cornucopia of people mingling about, from senators, to actors, to regular blue collar folk, just living a life as care free as can be.
You then start to hear the clacking noise from upstairs; the sounds of footsteps. The camera zooms up a long flight of marble stairs, only to see a young man standing there. The camera pans him up and down; hair impeccably slicked back and yet in a coif, a black suit tailored to die for, a bulge that's reminiscent of someone trying to smuggle a carton of Parliament lights, and a pair of burnt orange shoes so shiny that the wicked is which asked who's the fairest of them all.
As you get ready to challenge the final boss, he cuts through the tension in the air and asked if you want a bottle of water, with the caveat being "hey sorry my assistant called out sick so I haven't had anyone to run my errands so you're going to get handed a bottle of Costco bottled water and I hope that's okay"
You're mentally disarmed as this guy is sinister, dare I say satanic, yet he's incredibly suave profusely amiable and his charm attribute is definitely maxed the fuck out.
Let him know that you're there to kill him to avenge the destruction of your village and to save the world, and in return he rebuffs your challenge and says that there's no need to fight, when you get a shockingly strong sense of sincerity coming from his voice. He said that it's all a big misunderstanding, to which you will have nothing about.
After your repeated denial of his advances of friendship and amicable parting, he begrudgingly sighs and agrees to your duel. "But before we begin do me a favor will ya? Take your scimitar and just slit your own throat for me"; as you laugh at his suggestion you notice that your arm is uncontrollably lifting said scimitar and just slides it across your neck. Your character bleeds out as the boss utters "we didn't have to do this" in an utterly somber tone while the phrase"you're dead, stupid" is plastered along the screen, realizing he hit you with his mind control attack.
Sam Haram is for those who wish to be the final boss instead of the hero of their journey.
Melconcholic joy
You're thrice divorced, currently in the middle of a loveless 4th with a mail in bride who has such utter contempt that she cannot even look you in the eye while she tugs your unclipped prick without being engulfed of a flame fueled by equal parts self hatred and shame.
You ask the bartender that you're in a first name basis with for another glass of whiskey, as he again mentions to you that "it's really hot in here man, you should really take off that leather jacket". Fuck that, this is shit is cool you think to yourself, holding onto the last shred of pride you have left.
The couple behind you are arguing, with the young lady screeching that she's tired of her lovers repeated infidelities. The bar is dimly lit, and you would have to squint and stare to get her age, but by the sound of her voice you can tell she was in her mid 20s. You smirk, as this is a trip down memory lane from marriage number 2. The argument ends as she dumps her drink all over the head of her Beau, with you receiving some spalshback damage, with the spirit trickling down on the rose in the front pocket of your jacket.
A prostitute puts her hand on your shoulder and caresses your 5o'clock shadow, you give a pause, you take a big sniff of the booze laden rose, and smile. You tell Quincy to put it on your tab and you make your way to the nearest dumpster for a passion filled 7 minutes.
The is The Whiskey Rose experience.
You ask the bartender that you're in a first name basis with for another glass of whiskey, as he again mentions to you that "it's really hot in here man, you should really take off that leather jacket". Fuck that, this is shit is cool you think to yourself, holding onto the last shred of pride you have left.
The couple behind you are arguing, with the young lady screeching that she's tired of her lovers repeated infidelities. The bar is dimly lit, and you would have to squint and stare to get her age, but by the sound of her voice you can tell she was in her mid 20s. You smirk, as this is a trip down memory lane from marriage number 2. The argument ends as she dumps her drink all over the head of her Beau, with you receiving some spalshback damage, with the spirit trickling down on the rose in the front pocket of your jacket.
A prostitute puts her hand on your shoulder and caresses your 5o'clock shadow, you give a pause, you take a big sniff of the booze laden rose, and smile. You tell Quincy to put it on your tab and you make your way to the nearest dumpster for a passion filled 7 minutes.
The is The Whiskey Rose experience.
2 Comments
Requiem for a midsummer's night dream
You wake up after a night of lucid dreaming where Rhianna doesn't turn you down and allows you to smell her farts. You remark to yourself that you never gave your bed the credit it deserves as it always takes care of you when it's time to have a chat with Mr. Sandman. After you stretch, you get up and notice neither your pet lion or US senator are in neither of their beds, so you go to walk outside and suffer a slight cut in your palm; you forgot to tell your slave to replace the missing diamond in your doorknob, so that's an extra beheading you have to look after.
You're annoyed as hell already and you've only been up 10 minutes, only to discover one of the members of your harem has the audacity to be menstruating; welp, another beheading you think to yourself. And to top that off, your wife asks you to give her some cunnilingus for her birthday, and you tearfully remind her that eating pussy is Haram, as you say your goodbyes as she pleads not to be sent to the gulags, you tell her what must be done will be done. As your life is falling into shambles, You open the patio doors and gaze upon the beauty of the seemingly endless amount of poppy seeds being harvested by your imported contractors *cough slaves cough*, and think you know what, times aren't so tough.
You later find yourself unwinding by sipping on a 300 year old congac crafted by the descendants of Blackbeard, after a long day of ordering 30 beheadings and the death of the infadels.
Turath finally wears off, and then I'm transported back to reality where I'm just living a normal existence, no stable of whores, no opulence, no fields of poppy to turn into opiates to fund my acts of terrorism; just normalcy.
You're annoyed as hell already and you've only been up 10 minutes, only to discover one of the members of your harem has the audacity to be menstruating; welp, another beheading you think to yourself. And to top that off, your wife asks you to give her some cunnilingus for her birthday, and you tearfully remind her that eating pussy is Haram, as you say your goodbyes as she pleads not to be sent to the gulags, you tell her what must be done will be done. As your life is falling into shambles, You open the patio doors and gaze upon the beauty of the seemingly endless amount of poppy seeds being harvested by your imported contractors *cough slaves cough*, and think you know what, times aren't so tough.
You later find yourself unwinding by sipping on a 300 year old congac crafted by the descendants of Blackbeard, after a long day of ordering 30 beheadings and the death of the infadels.
Turath finally wears off, and then I'm transported back to reality where I'm just living a normal existence, no stable of whores, no opulence, no fields of poppy to turn into opiates to fund my acts of terrorism; just normalcy.
