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02/09/2024
Axiomatic
21 Reviews
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Axiomatic
Top Review
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Primal Soup Joe
Apsu, the Mesopotamian interpretation of groundwater. According to this, a freshwater ocean is the origin of this world. In it, the separation between air and earth takes place.
According to this idea, our earthly home floats above this water and is protectively separated from the wet source by an air bubble.
Of course, a suitably funny deity with the same name should not be missing, who, together with the salt water goddess, Tiamat, sets about colonizing the world.
Oh wonder, her children strive for power, practice patricide and are punished by mom by letting even worse creatures see the light of day.
The Sumerians probably didn't yet know proper family planning.
So, that settles the name of the fragrance.
Let's see how this saga creeps into the course of the fragrance.
Sizzle!
Goodness gracious, the lawnmower is warming up! Green-colored chlorophyll plows its way up my nose.
Freshly mowed lawn as far as the eye can see.
Disturbing shrubs have been sacrificed for the sake of shaved aesthetics, so please don't expect any hesperides.
It then becomes deliciously aromatic. Coriander greens in abundance!
Someone should copy this!
Extremely close to the natural recipe and slightly salty.
Oh, what I would give for crispy nachos and one of those heavenly dips from Mexico. Green tomatoes, jalapeños and lots of coriander greens. The perfect green sauce on the other side of the Atlantic would be ready.
So, at this point in the fragrance progression in particular, it's wonderful to endure.
Just spread out a nice blanket on the freshly mown lawn, unpack your Mexican picnic basket and let the green be green.
But suddenly something Cascalone blows over from the pond...
... and the picnic blanket shifts as if of its own accord to the eerie shore full of ominous water lilies.
The smell becomes increasingly watery, increasingly musty...
The water becomes cloudy...
Air bubbles do not bode well...
UUUUUUAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
The thing from the swamp rises thunderously from the murky broth!
And I can only watch, paralyzed, as it licks its sharp, fishy teeth with its slippery tongue.
On its head a crown of the deadest jasmine that ever existed.
It has paws like a whole toiling troop of miners.
And it smells stomach-churning.
The carrion is its signature.
There he is, the avenger of the saga's patricides!
But one evil rarely comes alone.
Also in the party is the villain's great-grandmother, preserved in algae.
Although she is no longer quite so aggressive due to advanced bone loss, she always has her poison cabinet with her in a rotten but stylish cellar bag.
Well, her twinset is debatable, but she has a solid basic taste. Everything in faux wood tones.
Her hairstyle dates back to the glory days of Jackie Kennedy.
She resolutely opens the bag, takes out a brass censer and begins to numb my senses with incense.
With a flawless cloth handkerchief soaked in white musk, she blows the smoke up my nose.
A strange, smoky freshness illuminates the scene in an unearthly way.
And I become paralyzed.
But my martyrdom has just begun.
Because Primeval Soup Joe is slowly but inexorably approaching. His stench and the magical smoke are turning greener than a spinach smoothie.
Meanwhile, the cheeky great-grandmother has opened her powder jar and is sprinkling iris dust around my nose.
Great-grandma: Gell, my darling, you're a good little boy.
That little bit of iris is fine.
And then she starts to sing...
Great-grandma: When monsters kiss Axios, then they must must must
they have to be very, very gentle
They are heavy and it hurts, they step on his toe
And the monster's lips get closer and closer!
Usuppen-Joe: Kiss!
I would like to take this opportunity to thank the clock industry, especially the alarm clock guild, for always being quicker than the police to help in the worst emergency situations.
I have them to thank for waking me up from a bad nightmare.
A big thank you, of course, goes to the fragrance's short shelf life. Just long enough to make you realize that you should avoid the brackish pond in the forest in the future.
And, of course, a special thanks goes to the coriander green note. The Mexican sauce will soon be on the couch table next to the bowl of nachos.
Because after the scent experience, I'm treating myself to a binge evening of every imaginable movie adaptation of Swamp Thing to cope with the shock.
According to this idea, our earthly home floats above this water and is protectively separated from the wet source by an air bubble.
Of course, a suitably funny deity with the same name should not be missing, who, together with the salt water goddess, Tiamat, sets about colonizing the world.
Oh wonder, her children strive for power, practice patricide and are punished by mom by letting even worse creatures see the light of day.
The Sumerians probably didn't yet know proper family planning.
So, that settles the name of the fragrance.
Let's see how this saga creeps into the course of the fragrance.
Sizzle!
Goodness gracious, the lawnmower is warming up! Green-colored chlorophyll plows its way up my nose.
Freshly mowed lawn as far as the eye can see.
Disturbing shrubs have been sacrificed for the sake of shaved aesthetics, so please don't expect any hesperides.
It then becomes deliciously aromatic. Coriander greens in abundance!
Someone should copy this!
Extremely close to the natural recipe and slightly salty.
Oh, what I would give for crispy nachos and one of those heavenly dips from Mexico. Green tomatoes, jalapeños and lots of coriander greens. The perfect green sauce on the other side of the Atlantic would be ready.
So, at this point in the fragrance progression in particular, it's wonderful to endure.
Just spread out a nice blanket on the freshly mown lawn, unpack your Mexican picnic basket and let the green be green.
But suddenly something Cascalone blows over from the pond...
... and the picnic blanket shifts as if of its own accord to the eerie shore full of ominous water lilies.
The smell becomes increasingly watery, increasingly musty...
The water becomes cloudy...
Air bubbles do not bode well...
UUUUUUAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
The thing from the swamp rises thunderously from the murky broth!
And I can only watch, paralyzed, as it licks its sharp, fishy teeth with its slippery tongue.
On its head a crown of the deadest jasmine that ever existed.
It has paws like a whole toiling troop of miners.
And it smells stomach-churning.
The carrion is its signature.
There he is, the avenger of the saga's patricides!
But one evil rarely comes alone.
Also in the party is the villain's great-grandmother, preserved in algae.
Although she is no longer quite so aggressive due to advanced bone loss, she always has her poison cabinet with her in a rotten but stylish cellar bag.
Well, her twinset is debatable, but she has a solid basic taste. Everything in faux wood tones.
Her hairstyle dates back to the glory days of Jackie Kennedy.
She resolutely opens the bag, takes out a brass censer and begins to numb my senses with incense.
With a flawless cloth handkerchief soaked in white musk, she blows the smoke up my nose.
A strange, smoky freshness illuminates the scene in an unearthly way.
And I become paralyzed.
But my martyrdom has just begun.
Because Primeval Soup Joe is slowly but inexorably approaching. His stench and the magical smoke are turning greener than a spinach smoothie.
Meanwhile, the cheeky great-grandmother has opened her powder jar and is sprinkling iris dust around my nose.
Great-grandma: Gell, my darling, you're a good little boy.
That little bit of iris is fine.
And then she starts to sing...
Great-grandma: When monsters kiss Axios, then they must must must
they have to be very, very gentle
They are heavy and it hurts, they step on his toe
And the monster's lips get closer and closer!
Usuppen-Joe: Kiss!
I would like to take this opportunity to thank the clock industry, especially the alarm clock guild, for always being quicker than the police to help in the worst emergency situations.
I have them to thank for waking me up from a bad nightmare.
A big thank you, of course, goes to the fragrance's short shelf life. Just long enough to make you realize that you should avoid the brackish pond in the forest in the future.
And, of course, a special thanks goes to the coriander green note. The Mexican sauce will soon be on the couch table next to the bowl of nachos.
Because after the scent experience, I'm treating myself to a binge evening of every imaginable movie adaptation of Swamp Thing to cope with the shock.
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