I lost my remote control more than a day ago and I have literally no idea where that thing is, so I guess I’ll write a new review for I-71 delivery brand Hidden Leaf DC, since I can’t watch any more Penny Dreadful. I feel bad for Vanessa Ives. Every time she decides to get freaky, the most terrible, apocalyptic shit happens. Dorian Gray is a scene-stealer, but his only apparent purpose is to bang the rest of the cast (I’m like, halfway through Season 2). And Frankenstein’s monster is such a naive, whiny little emo I can’t wait for him to find out Victor’s banging his girlfriend. Waah, the world is a cold, heartless place where those closest to you betray you and love doesn’t exist T-minus six months from initial pheromone exchange, suck it up, buttercup. The immortal poet’s problem is entirely a lack of vision regarding his circumstances. If I were a brilliant, tireless, undead monster, and I’m not saying I’m not, I’d be at work starting my own mafia and inventing the motorcycle, not stalking my Daddy and his pals around town. Plus, chicks are into scars. Well, the kind that are into burly, motorcycle-riding mafiosi are.
But let’s take our leave of gothic Victorian London for an altogether more wholesome affair, Hidden Leaf DC’s Grandma’s Cookies flowers. This site says it’s a cross between San Fernando Valley OG and the crazy popular cultivar formerly known as Girl Scout Cookies (perhaps it’s actually this one from the more reputable Seedfinder), before the Girl Scout’s legal team said woah, not cool, bros. You either respect that, or spend the rest of your days a wandering, casteless pariah, forever cut off from the Thin Mints and Tagalong’s of society. Samoas? Did your parents not love you enough, so now you have to punish your tastebuds?
What I can say for certain about these flowers is they’re dense, well-manicured nugs with a wonderful scent profile- they have a sweet, earthiness like I’d expect from GSC, but with a strong note of ginger that makes them smell like a fresh batch straight from Grandma’s oven. My grandma made molasses crinkles for us every Christmas, but especially me. Now no one does. Sigh. I’m only morbid cuz, like, my dad, grandma, and mom died, plus I got divorced within the last three years. Losing all your anchors like that leads people to join cults, but I’m too
smart paranoid of other’s intentions for that, so I started one instead. My bad. I didn’t really mean to, folks. How was I supposed to know that if I built an internet soapbox and started ranting about weed that people would actually listen? Dude, my entire business plan is Step 2: ???
Grandma’s Cookies delightful scent follows through for a tasty, smooth smoke. I like this batch of flowers even more than the last Hidden Leaf generously gifted me, despite the light trichome coverage. The effect leans decidedly indica and will definitely punch your ticket to the Night Theatre later in the evening. I’ve finally recovered from the severe over-caffeination I relied upon to get through the dreariness of my office dronery, so now I can enjoy a latte with my morning joint without triggering the bomb in my brain. The combination of caffeine and cannabis is fantastic, of course- the Dutch really hit it on the nose with the coffee shop angle- because you can get the mental health benefits of an indica without falling asleep. Grandma’s Cookies does a great job of relieving my anxiety and improving my mood, and a little help from Dunkin keeps me alert and mentally agile.
The villagers of the Hidden Leaf have risen even higher in the esteem of the Gentleman and are well prepared to help you in your quest to obtain fine cannabis and apparel 24 hours a day. You can find their web site right here (or here’s their old Form if you prefer). Oh, Follow them on Instagram, too, if you wanna see for photos of new gift selections. And, oh geez, Rick, we’ve got some free weed to give away, don’t we? Subscribe to my newsletter for your chance to win!