With City Paper's annual weed issue around the corner, City Paper weed critics Baynard Woods and Brandon Soderberg will be reviewing one weed product a day.
The person I smoke with most often has never been particularly picky. I do all the shopping. But when I recently gave this old friend some Green Crack, she was blown away. After a positively Joycean monologue on the city, rambling down numerous byways of speedy and exhilarated wonder, she said: "Get more of this."
There's something shitty about the monicker of Green Crack. It's like the way white people so often glibly refer to crack. "It's like crack," said no one who ever knew anyone who actually smoked cocaine or weed or any of the other shit people compare to crack.
And this super sativa is not gonna make you start crawling around on the ground looking for imaginary chunks of it on the carpet. But it does speed you up, except to me, and my smoking buddy, just not in a bad jittery—you know, cracky—way. To us, it's an an extremely up and euphoric high, productive and instructive.
But I've talked to a lot of people who won't touch the stuff because it leaves them nervous and hyper, bouncing around the apartment, distracted and paranoid.
Nose: citrus, the shadow under an old rusted pickup brokedown amongst the pines, freshly cut alfalfa
Existential Dread: 9 (if you are susceptible)
Freaking Out When Crazy Person Approaches You: 8
Drink Pairing: A Session IPA
Music Pairing: Jason Isbell 'Hope the High Road'