I had some medical chronic a few weeks ago that was boring, and way too expensive. All body, no head. Which is the exact opposite of what I, or anyone who smokes recreational, would want. Expertly grown, well manicured, perfectly dried medicinal-grade garbage. (Although, medicinally, I can appreciate it. Thats the pot I'd give my mom if she was ill).
They tried to pass this shit off as "White Widow", I just kept my fuckin' trap shut. No point in debating, drugs is a hard business. They'll find out when someone calls 'em on it, or they'll just look stupid for another year until they accidentally find out what real WW is.
So I made some calls, and found some stinky HQ mids that blows the doors off it. Scored a lid for like, nuthin', with maybe five mature seeds in it. Apparently, the kids prefer the hundred-dollar dimes. Which I think is absolutely hilarious. Truth be told, those seeds alone are worth fifty bucks.
So, watch what you're getting. Sample it, two hits. If you can take two hits of expensive buddy chronic that looks like wicked dope, and you don't get fuckin' smashed, there is probably a reason. And the reason is, basically, they're buying seed that will produce plants high in THC content, imbalanced, when the plant matures. And 20% THC doesn't matter shit if the other supporting cannabinoid compounds aren't there.
But when they do get it right...
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Best shit I ever got around here was a fat sack of Blueberry something-or-other. Cheap, and made you retarded. Came from somewhere up the food chain, because if it was anywhere near a sideways-hat faggot, it woulda been like nine million bucks a crumb.
Whoever grew that blueberry was a fuckin' sage artist, and that is still by far my favorite - ever. Because the whole sensory experience was delightful. The aromatic blueberry-ness of it, it was like nothing I'd ever had. Normally, when something is really pungent and intense, like a Skunk, its overwhelming. It reeeks you the fuck out. And I actually love skunks, much like I love deep peaty whiskies. But that stuff was from a whole 'nother dimension, and it never got old. You could probably get baked on that BB forever, and never get used to it to the point of ineffectiveness.
Back in the day, the top-top shit you could hope to get was a Skunk. At least, around here. Out West, you'd have Hawaii'n Gold, or whatever the fuck, around here, it was Skunk. You didn't have to know Jack Dick about pot, just open the bag, and if it stunk like skunk, it was Skunk, and you were golden.
To this day, I cannot drive down the road and smell a skunk without smiling. And procrastinating my 420 response by six days is perfectly acceptable.
Peace, assholes.
Yes, I'm still lookin at you.