I’m going to try to avoid making any Durango train jokes in this here review, as I know that between the lawsuits and the burn scar it is a sore spot, but just know it took a lot of self-control to do so. We are reviewing Diesel Choo Choo Shatter, after all, and the jokes about burning some of this concentrate just write themselves. You’re welcome for considering your feelings.
Anywhoooooo, I procured this shiny brown shatter from our friends at The Green House in Pagosa Springs, and I tried it out on a random weeknight, which was a good call on my part. It only took a few hits for me to be super freaking blazed, and I could tell really quickly where I was at so I knew how to moderate my intake. That isn’t always the case with, well, anything cannabis-related, so I like having a concentrate that hits hard and fast. Keeps me from overdoing it.
And you could easily overdo it with this shatter. It contains almost 72 percent THC, which is, as you know, a lot. Add that high THC quotient to the fact that this shatter tastes good and it’s a potential recipe for couch-locked disaster. So, I was grateful for it immediately kicking in.
And kick in it did. I was a laughing, confused mess after a little bit of this concentrate. At first, I kept feeling like there was something in my eye (there wasn’t), so I kept getting up and staring in the mirror to find it. Once that feeling subsided, I dipped straight into “I’m so smart while stoned” territory, which really meant I wrote down a bunch of “deep thoughts” that are really just garbage nonsense. I pondered all sorts of ideas, like what the name of a Four Corners’ knockoff of Bravo’s Real Housewives would be – I settled on Real Housewives of Bland County because, well, Birkenstocks and jorts – and what it would be like to be a writer whose work is examined for themes. I waste so much time while stoned.
After I was done emulating “Deep Thoughts with Jack Handy,” I slipped further into that stoned abyss and started to hear things that weren’t logically there. I kept hearing someone call my name – there was most certainly no one doing that – and then I was convinced that the channel I’d flipped on for background noise was in Spanish. It was not. It was 100 percent English, but I could have sworn in that moment that I was listening to a Spanish-language channel. Basically I was useless.
That’s no surprise, though. Anyone who’s read these reviews more than once knows I’m pretty much always useless, stoned or otherwise. This back and forth confusion on “Is this English? Or is it Spanish?” went on for quite some time before I decided it was time to shovel snacks in my mouth. This shatter made me feel like my stomach was a bottomless pit, so if you’re trying to watch the ol’ waistline, beware. It will be impossible to fight the urge after some of this Diesel Choo Choo business.
If you’re NOT watching your waistline, though, you should definitely invest in some of this shatter because it’s delicious and it’ll knock you on your ass, just the way we like it.