Green Label Grinders has a fresh batch of Blue Rhino cured and I don’t want you to miss out! I mean, if you’re out of town, or, like, a doctor that’s been kidnapped by the Mafia, trying to perform bullet-surgery in an old meat freezer while your captor’s argument over how the Yakuza knew about the drop at the docks edges closer to the brink of violence and you keep flashing back to the fight you had with your spouse that morning, how those might be your last words, and you’ll never see your 2.4 children again if the capo bleeds out on this metal slab…
Ok, then priorities, I guess. Everyone else is on notice that if they want to enjoy some of the finest cannabis grown under Initiative 71 from one of my very favorite gift weed pick-up brands, the time to hit them up is right now!
As we discussed in the previous review of their super-frosty Big Bud, Green Label DC sells custom branded grinders via their website and offers a free gift of marijuana so you don’t have, just, an empty grinder whimpering up at you like a hungry puppy. How sad would that be?
Blue Rhino is a cross between one of the most popular indicas ever, Blueberry, and a second indica, the elusive White Rhino, which somehow makes it a hybrid according to Leafly. I’m not, like, a geneticist (if I was, I’d be hard at working perfecting my rage virus, alas), but that seems odd to me.
Green Label Grinder’s Blue Rhino is plenty frosty. The fresh, well-manicured buds are solid, good structure, but not dense. They’ll easily split apart and on to your grinder, whereupon its full skunkocity shall be unleashed upon your nose-balls, a lovely sour funk treasured by chronnoisseurs of the classics, with pepper notes beneath. The smoke is very smooth with a sour finish. Well done all around on this crop.
The Gentleman has been smoking Green Label DC’s Blue Rhino flowers almost exclusively since his return from the Golden State, so I’ve got a good handle on it by now. It’s physically sedative but mentally, I find it rather stimulating.
My thoughts take on a lyrical bend and fixation for wordplay, naming songs I’ve not written (you didn’t know I used to sing in a kickass rock band?), getting pretty phrases stuck in my head.
I pretty much have to watch Santa Clarita Diet after the name has run through my head twenty times a day. At one point, I even felt the urge to paint, to cover a canvas in delicate blues and bright oranges.
It’s a fancy that passes from time to time, but if I’m gonna burn creative juice, writing pays the bills. This is all dependent on adequate sleep; the body stone will definitely put me down otherwise.
When I was recovering from the red-eye back, I was perfectly content to submit to the televised social programming between naps, but now that my health bar is back up to 70% or so, I can’t smoke Blue Rhino and binge on iZombie without thinking about all the stuff I gotta do, even though I was still trying to relax.
I waited a long time to start this one cuz the premise, a zombie that helps catch killers by eating their victim’s brains, is dumber than a sack of decapitated roosters.
The plot turns out to be very engaging, however, and the cast is charming, with the exception of her cop partner, who manages to be even more lifeless than Zombie, MD. All his clever ribbing of the morgue’s resident “psychic” falls flat and his barely-restrained Chiklis-rage just doesn’t play. You know who’d have been great? Gus from Psych. Right? Get me his agent. Tell him it’s the Gentleman. No, I won’t hold. Do you believe this?
We love Green Label Grinders round these parts! What could be better than fresh, locally-grown cannabis you can go get right now? Go ahead and schedule your pick-up appointment but save me some! Gentlemen need to smoke too, y’know.