06/14/2021
FrauHolle
58 Reviews
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FrauHolle
Very helpful Review
21
Trampoliné
Good evening.
Today I would like to address a taboo subject that I'm sure many people in a perfume forum also struggle with, and don't quite know how to deal with: Trampolines.
Yeah, (outing) my family owned (owns?/attic) one of those too. It was in the 80s, where this part adorned our living room and alone with its not insignificant size every visitor only so entgegenruf: "Look here! Here lives a sports family, which jumps quite gladly"!
The round something with the red edge, under whose hidden spirals, in which one always caught oneself with the large uncle, stood directly beside the ping-pong table, which one could convert practically also to the completely normal, round dining table, namely by removing the two center parts, and naturally the screw clamps with the plastic net removed; The eye eats with it.
Bouncing was my thing. Bouncing was great. Bought weightlessness for only 29.99 DM. (almost 60 euros!)
Mutti & I could be glad that Dad left the trampoline in the room, and not banished to the boiler room, where above the already quite narrow doorway pipes and clotheslines ran; I'm just not sure if he did, because that would explain some.
Anyway, it wasn't until decades later that the high-powered sports industry invented this e-scooter pole that seemed to provide secure grip in front of the device, permanently mounted, while bouncing, and I was long out of the bouncing age. Well, yes, the lot of the prematurely born. Again.
And today? GOOGLE-EARTH IT YOURSELF! They're in every other well-manicured front yard! Super Duper King, and Queen size trampolines, with nets and ladders and everything Pi Pa Po, for the dear little ones! Ugly behemoths that no one needs! Which give children, yes, EVEN YOURS, the mistaken impression that they can do ANYTHING in life, can go HIGH, ALWAYS with safety fall protection left and right! Is that what you want your children to take away with them?
Or is it just your own ego that feels heavily belly fluffed as it imagines your brood bouncing: My little one can reach ANYTHING one day! Even the stars! And if not, at least his art is good enough for a good third place in the Paralympics, at least he can already scream like Angus Young, and with a little more enthusiasm, we look forward to a career at NASA for him absolutely confident!
Parents: COME BACK DOWN, and share fucking fucking trampolines!!!
About the scent: smells like a trampoline.
Today I would like to address a taboo subject that I'm sure many people in a perfume forum also struggle with, and don't quite know how to deal with: Trampolines.
Yeah, (outing) my family owned (owns?/attic) one of those too. It was in the 80s, where this part adorned our living room and alone with its not insignificant size every visitor only so entgegenruf: "Look here! Here lives a sports family, which jumps quite gladly"!
The round something with the red edge, under whose hidden spirals, in which one always caught oneself with the large uncle, stood directly beside the ping-pong table, which one could convert practically also to the completely normal, round dining table, namely by removing the two center parts, and naturally the screw clamps with the plastic net removed; The eye eats with it.
Bouncing was my thing. Bouncing was great. Bought weightlessness for only 29.99 DM. (almost 60 euros!)
Mutti & I could be glad that Dad left the trampoline in the room, and not banished to the boiler room, where above the already quite narrow doorway pipes and clotheslines ran; I'm just not sure if he did, because that would explain some.
Anyway, it wasn't until decades later that the high-powered sports industry invented this e-scooter pole that seemed to provide secure grip in front of the device, permanently mounted, while bouncing, and I was long out of the bouncing age. Well, yes, the lot of the prematurely born. Again.
And today? GOOGLE-EARTH IT YOURSELF! They're in every other well-manicured front yard! Super Duper King, and Queen size trampolines, with nets and ladders and everything Pi Pa Po, for the dear little ones! Ugly behemoths that no one needs! Which give children, yes, EVEN YOURS, the mistaken impression that they can do ANYTHING in life, can go HIGH, ALWAYS with safety fall protection left and right! Is that what you want your children to take away with them?
Or is it just your own ego that feels heavily belly fluffed as it imagines your brood bouncing: My little one can reach ANYTHING one day! Even the stars! And if not, at least his art is good enough for a good third place in the Paralympics, at least he can already scream like Angus Young, and with a little more enthusiasm, we look forward to a career at NASA for him absolutely confident!
Parents: COME BACK DOWN, and share fucking fucking trampolines!!!
About the scent: smells like a trampoline.
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