What smells like a diesel train, tastes like flowers, and gives you an epic, wide-awake buzz from the concentration gods? Chemmy Jones, that’s what.
As you may have guessed, we’re reviewing the strain Chemmy Jones, which is a sativa-leaning hybrid created by crossing Chemdawg D and Casey Jones. We were told by our friends over at The Green House (the new Durango location) that this strain, which was grown for them by a Boulder grower, is top notch and our sativa-loving hearts would dig it. They rarely ever steer us wrong (though they do like to knock us on our asses), so we were pretty stoked to try it. Here’s how it went.
So, I smoked this strain with Blaze Ridcully, our occasional strain reviewer, and I should have been more aware of what they were doing when loading the bowl. Apparently Blaze didn’t check to make sure that the pipe had a screen in it, and ground up and then loaded a fat bowl of these dense, orange-haired nugs anyway. They handed me the pipe and the lighter, and I – like the idiot I truly am – took a huge hit, which was smoke mixed with old ash. The ash hit my throat, I basically cried, and then went to go dig out the freaking dry herb vape. Fahkalotta that ash. (I told that story just to shame Blaze. It has nothing to do with the review.)
Once we had a new bowl loaded into the dry herb vape, it was smooth sailing. Mostly. This particular batch of Chemmy Jones contains more than 33 percent THC, so while the dry herb vape took away the ash component, it did not take away how high this made me. You guys … if you need a strain to pick up by the seat of your pants and hurl you into a swirling vat of productivity, this one is your very best friend. My GOD, it supercharged my ass.
And I mean supercharged. I am mostly a human sloth (I kid, mostly, but doing things is pretty overrated), and this Chemmy Jones biz ignited the inner adult in me. I was like a stoned Buzz Lightyear, buzzing around the house with every intention of flying to infinity and beyond. (I ultimately opted to do the dishes instead.)
Blaze was also wound up to an 11, and was doing things like raving at a speed of a million miles an hour about some political book on tape that I should, but will never agree to listen to. We were like very tightly wound rubber bands – not ready to pop off, per se, but ready to sting the hell out of whatever exposed piece of flesh walked past when released.
I even wrote a little bit after smoking this strain, which was surprising, because I normally can’t focus for anything after a bowl or two of the devil’s lettuce. Doesn’t matter if it’s a sativa, a hybrid, or an indica, either. Whatever it is, I generally can’t channel my stoned energy into something good and not evil. This time, though, I did. And dare I say my work was even legible? It was a’ight. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve written, anyway.
The best part of it all, though, is that neither of us got super hungry after smoking this strain. I’ve been telling myself for a while now that I have to find a strain that won’t lure me into eating an entire package of mint Oreos, and I think Chemmy Jones may be it.
If you’re looking for a strain that will wind you up and let you go like chattering plastic teeth, you should invest in some Chemmy Jones. This stuff is productivity’s right hand man, and you will be better off for having it. Just don’t smoke it anywhere near bedtime or you’re going to be real sorry for the lack of sleep come morning time. Avoid that and you should be good to go.