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05/12/2021
Floyd
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Floyd
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Pepe builds himself a placebo
Pepe's pupils wandered wistfully through the inside of his little bag of grass, clinging to the pitiful crumbs. He forgot himself in lost brooding. There were still wasps on the windowsill, but they had crackled too loudly while smoking, their venom not having the desired effect.
Placebo-Pepe would not wait, he took the grass scraps into the garden, there was a tree stump in the middle of the meadow, over it the crumbs were ground, the sticky spicy sweet herb. That's exactly what would be replicated now!
Enthusiastically he began to pick basil, dalge it and squeeze it between the crumbs, it was only conditionally marijuana-like, but delightfully autumnal and sweet. Then he ground some pepper over it, he liked his stuff a little spicier, light hay and damp grass, from the stump some brown resin with a little soil still clinging to it and little volatile glandular secretions. Pepe paused. The green scrub looked like dried spice, smelled kind of tart, a little pungent, and yet the resins had broken the horns off the stalks, or the musk ox had put his on them, never would Pepe let it spread, hairspray deodorant had already spread in it. The wind was supposed to take it. But he only did that after quite a few hours.
¡@!*
The idea of the Hamburg label AtelierPMP, whose creators come from the vapor circles of the Wagenplatz Bambule and the Red Flora, namely that their fragrances should be a rejection of superficiality, is certainly more exciting than this creation of Mark Buxton. Although at the beginning of "On" are quite exciting moments, as namely the above-mentioned components are looking for their place, however, everything adds up to a rather washed-out whole, which reminds me personally too much of hairspray or tart deodorant.
(With thanks to Delightful)
Placebo-Pepe would not wait, he took the grass scraps into the garden, there was a tree stump in the middle of the meadow, over it the crumbs were ground, the sticky spicy sweet herb. That's exactly what would be replicated now!
Enthusiastically he began to pick basil, dalge it and squeeze it between the crumbs, it was only conditionally marijuana-like, but delightfully autumnal and sweet. Then he ground some pepper over it, he liked his stuff a little spicier, light hay and damp grass, from the stump some brown resin with a little soil still clinging to it and little volatile glandular secretions. Pepe paused. The green scrub looked like dried spice, smelled kind of tart, a little pungent, and yet the resins had broken the horns off the stalks, or the musk ox had put his on them, never would Pepe let it spread, hairspray deodorant had already spread in it. The wind was supposed to take it. But he only did that after quite a few hours.
¡@!*
The idea of the Hamburg label AtelierPMP, whose creators come from the vapor circles of the Wagenplatz Bambule and the Red Flora, namely that their fragrances should be a rejection of superficiality, is certainly more exciting than this creation of Mark Buxton. Although at the beginning of "On" are quite exciting moments, as namely the above-mentioned components are looking for their place, however, everything adds up to a rather washed-out whole, which reminds me personally too much of hairspray or tart deodorant.
(With thanks to Delightful)
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