This eighth came in two big ol’ crusty chunks.  Perfect!  Crusty, frosty, nicely dried chunks are so heavenly; I think I am subconsciously favoring them at the weed sto’ now.  Oh well, I guess I’ll have to learn to live with that.  I know that fat “leafy” herb is as likely to be potent and delicious, but a dense crispy nugget has always had more window appeal for me I s’pose.

What a clean, fresh, almond aroma these buds have!  I am reminded of a mildly fragrant lotion, or shampoo for old people.  I dunno, something about that almond scent makes me think of old people.

A bag or two from Alexander the Vape aka Lemondreads and I start getting crept up on.

(BTW, during one session I smoked a bowl in a pipe– it’s amazing how harsh and nasty the smoke tastes.  Start vaping now, people!)

The zone, here it comes.  Feeling wired, yet still, calm.  Knock out some tasks for a contract I’m on… map the start of a brand strategy for my new company… focused, but like water…  I remember to write this review.  Here I am.  I’m done.  What’s next on my list?

I popped into the La Brea Collective for a quick score before heading off on a weekend getaway.  Wanted some flight day airport anxiety support and a nice post-travel reward when I got back home.  In a rush, I scanned the jars and pointed at the prettiest nugs I could see.

Wow, ya know, one oughtn’t judge books by covers but lady luck rewarded me for such myopic behavior.  This little harvest of Black Diamond Kush vapes and smells as hardcore as it looks.  Blow up that pic and try to keep from yokel-dropping your jaw.  This is pornographic.  A normal eye sees crusty, frosted nuggets dominated by blotches of blackberry while the macro lens picks up some beautiful contrasting purples, oranges, and light greens.  Has the forest/PIne Sol/poison aroma of an OG Kush, with hints of… chocolate, really?… and the smell of an old garage with an open bucket of gasoline.

A grind produces heaps of kief, providing the temptation of an ever-growing glimmering mountain under the filter as I indulge my way through these buds.  A stoney grip envelops my head halfway through the second vap-o-bag.  Chillification achieved.  This is skrong.  Want to buy up store’s whole supply.  Where are my keys?

A 2006 Alto Moncayo Garnacha snuck into the photo.  If you dig wine, give this one a try.  It’s big and hearty but smooth and buttery at the same time.  It’s been a while since I knocked it out, but I remember a Cabernet-ish mouthfeel, heavy, strong, but not an inkling of fume.  Delectable, chewy, and a pleasure to nurse.  A real lipsmacker.  Just wiped some drool off the keyboard.

Cali weed, good Spanish wine, and muthafuckin buffalo wings.  What else do you need?

After enjoying a string of mostly sweet indicas and indica dominants, I asked the budtender for a really nice sativa.  Valuing the gentleman’s immediate reaction, and curious about this name I hadn’t heard, the choice was easy.

What does it mean when you pick up a strain that Google doesn’t know about?  Is somebody making shit up?  Or is this some hyperlocal herb from the heart of the collective?  Who cares.  Let’s get high.

It would be fun to come up with new strain names only considering the marketing potential.  How many people want something with “OG” in the name?  Or Kush, or Diesel, or Purple?  Try out my new OG Purple Diesel Kush!  It’s the shit Snoop Dogg was talking about, when Dr. Dre was dropping mad beats and Cypress Hill was still loco!

So is Optimus Diesel more than meets the eye?   You know… Transformers, wink wink.  But for really though, it did not strike me how pretty these nugs were until I looked more closely at the macro pictures.  Bits of light green, forest, purple, orange, red, frost.  Maybe there is more then meets the eye.

Optimus Diesel smells like the shit under the sink that does the dirty work,  Formula 409 for the brain.  Strip off that reality mildew!  The flavor has more of a poison/Drano vibe than I usually dig on.  It certainly gets me medicated after some statutory vape.

While I normally get a reverse effect– wired, jumpy, creative juices flowing with indicas, while sleepy and introspective with sativas — this gets me on an energetic vibe, but ready to get immersed in anything.  A decent sample… anyone else out there tried this?

Mid-morning walk, keeping company with the dog as he scopes a chill place to take a mad dump, I hear some boom-booming around the corner on Melrose.  Lo and behold, a DJ commands a laptop, speakers behind him, in a small foyer.  The sign above reads “LA OG.”  Subtle.  Gotta love yet another new weed sto’ within walking distance.  I take a mental note and remember to return.

Turns out LA OG just opened up a couple days ago.  They’ve got a chill group of people manning the the outfit, a family feel– which is kind of strange walking in from the afternoon hustle and bustle of Melrose.  The polite gentlemen at the counter accomodate my indecisiveness, and eventually I act on the recommendation from a quite medicated caregiver, whose suggestions, I imagine, are the most candid.

LA Confidential from LA OG

The tight, frosty buds are sticky and a little tough to pinch apart.  My fingers smell like pure kief after pulling a bit off for the grinder.  The flowers have a hashy aroma, with the scent of crushed citrus leaves in the background.  The smell also faintly reminds me of a bag of Hash Plant I had within the last year.

After a session with Alexander the Vape aka Lemondreads, that warm feeling of rightness with the world creeps up on me.  My shoulders relax, I start rocking to music in my own head,  and I start to wonder why an OG Kush from one place would be priced at 15 bucks more an eighth than LA Confidential at another place.

I mean, what the fuck?  Who is ripping off whom?  The grower?  The dispensary?  Then I remember the little poll LA OG had me take before entering the counter area.  One of the questions was “What prices are right to you?”  I like that these guys want to know what their customers expect.  I’ll be back.

This schnigglet smells like Pine Sol, for real, exactly, like unscrewing the green cap and sticking your nose right in the plastic bottle.  You are supposed to dilute that shit before using it!  There is some crazy chemical warfare going on with this industrial-strength chicken soup for the Sol.

A bit concerned and shamelessly gleeful, I grind and fill the vap-o-bucket while Alexander the Vape aka Lemondreads heats up.  Yeah, I named my Volcano, SO?!?  Heyyyy, this is nice.  A few bags of air later and I can’t remember what it tasted like because, you know, that was like forever ago.

…

This reminds me of why I needs to become a Volcano salesman.  I used like half of what I would put in a bowl and that generated five bags of delicious hot air.  The high creeps up on you, and in the back of your mind you might wonder if you are getting the most bang for your buck– since with a bong rip or two you’d feel it coming on immediately.

But in Alexander the Vape the peak is higher and lasts longer than the bong rip you’d get out of the same amount.   It’s more analogous to eating THC-laced food– but much faster-acting than delicious brownies.

…

So yeah, anyway, believe what you hear.  OG Kush didn’t reach celebrity status on a fluke.  Look for that always nearly emtpy jar and fresh forest aroma and you is good to go.

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I introduced an old friend who was headed through town to the MMJ culture by renewing the ol’ recommendation at Venice Beach on 4/18.  Not surprising, business was booming at the doc’s office.

We headed back into town to check out the LBC.  When I stepped back in the car with a pocket full of Snoop’s Master and some amber glass, homey ’bout near passed out just from the smell of the unopened med container.

This is THE real sticky icky celebrated by the eponymous d-oh-double-g.  One bong rip apiece sent us both back in time, to the innocent college days in Florida where we would high five if we could find some mids, and throw a party for some of the so-called “kryppie.”  I don’t think Californians have even heard of “mids.”  I feel bad for the rest of you, Country.

Snoop’s Master is the FIRE.  I would go into a silly self-indulgent description of flavors and this and that, but I’d rather just fire up another bowl of the master and do something el…

So the internets tells me this is a Jamaican landrace sativa, favored by Bob Himself.  There’s even some controversy over whether it’s called ‘Lamb’s Breath” or “Lamb’s Bread.”  I suppose a patois might make it hard to distinguish between the two… so let’s just call it “some good shit.”  At $75/eighth I’d normally stay away but a 25% discount plus new patient freebie edible made it worth a go.

This particular batch is dry (but not in a bad way), crunchy, and creates a tremendous kief yield.  The nugs are dominated by a golden/amber color, and each grind for the Volcano supplies a nice thumbnail of kief to juice up the bowl.  Comes in tight little serving size nugs too!  How cute!  I can lick my desktop and get crunk from all the trichome dust that flies whenever I pop open the grinder or kief-collector.

Nothing remarkable about the taste, smoked or vaped.  I snuck in one little bowl after exclusively vaping for a few days– and had a coughing fit after an initial pipe rip, but that probably had as much to do with the dryness as with keeping my lungs smoke-free.

Oh and it got me pretty medicated as well.  A little more than a pinch of ground herb plus the bit of kief it yielded supplied five or six Volcano bags of joy and a few hours of blissful stoneage on the uppier sativa side.

I’d buy again, but for no more than $50/eighth, if only to say “Hey, this was Bob’s favorite.”  Hell, if landrace means what I think it means, then this shizzle evolved without the help of weed scientists and that’s pretty fucking amazing.

After one evening’s use I deem this to be the best weed-related investment ever.

Check out my attempt at writing a guide: How to use the Volcano Vaporizer Classic with Solid Valve.

With its dense, purply nugs, Purple Mr. Nice has the appearance of a sick purple, accented by lovely goldenrod hair and a touch of frosting.  A flowery indica aroma dominates while spiced, surprisingy, with sour notes –  an omen? — and a touch of hashiness.

The virgin bongload initially dismayed yours truly, who expected a two-hit headband followed by a night-time uppercut to the cerebral cortex… purple and shit, right?   The scent of the smoke did nothing to help, as it oddly recalled memories of the nearly brown wretchedness of one’s youth.  SHENANIGANS!

However, as time marched on — as it is prone to do — a unexpectedly sativa-like high crept into play.  Another bongload and it blossomed into an energetic buzz with a slow return to agreeable night-time narcosis.  Extra points for fueling a new high score in Wii Bowling.

The lesson?  Judge not books by their covers, appearances can be deceiving, and Maharaja is a fantastic word that can add welcome meter to a trite headline.