Here is a pro-tip: When starting with Mob Boss, a sativa-dominant hybrid created by crossing Tang Tang and Chemdawg, you should tread carefully. Very, very carefully. Otherwise it’ll take you out at the knees and you’ll find yourself buried in cement and holding up some Jersey turnpike or something.
What I mean by that is this shit is potent. Very, very potent. I should have known something was up by the thick, bitter smoke. I choked on the first hit, and initially figured I’d just inhaled a little too deeply or something. But, second hit, same thing. I choked. And choked. And choked some more. I’m guessing my neighbors were either worried or laughing at my noob ass.
In case you haven’t gathered it, the smoke emitted by the Mob Boss bud is harsh. Way harsh, Ty. It has a heavy burning pine taste, and it isn’t very pleasant to inhale. But, as I found out soon enough, it gets the job done.
I’m lucky that my high ass remembered to take notes, because when I woke up from a legit weed coma this morning, I had NO idea what I was going to write on. I did not remember shit. Not shit. And that was after just a bowl of this stuff.
Perhaps that’s because this specific bud tested at 21.06 percent THC, according to Good Earth Meds in Pagosa Springs, which is where we procured it. I know there are some strains that clock in on the high (heh) end of the THC percentage scale but have relatively mellow effects. This is not one of them.
The last thing I really remember is getting up to get snacks (yes, I know), and then I almost fell while walking toward my couch. My notes specifically recall it as, “I just launched myself forward like a blimp; almost fell.” I don’t know what a blimp launches like, but if it’s in slow motion and very wobbly, then my description is accurate.
The rest of this review will have to come straight from my notes, because I ain’t got a clue what followed.
It appears that I first felt it necessary to lament about the pathetic life of a mid-30s stoner sitting on the couch. “I have officially graduated to sad single. I ate all the Nutri-Grain bars and a Rice Krispie treat for dinner.” If true, “sad single” is ALSO accurate. And judging by the wrappers splayed across the coffee table this morning, it is.
The next note bitches about the TV or something: “Something is wrong with my TV or Sling and it keeps randomly stalling. I think it was something in my brain.” Hard shrug. No idea. TV’ing is hard when you’re that stoned, I guess.
My last note is the most telling. “Passed tf out without noticing.” I mean, I don’t know how I typed said note, as it indicates I was passed tf out, but if I had to guess, I would think it was after I woke up and ate more Nutri-Grain bars. That is the last note, indicating that yes, Virginia, I did indeed pass tf out for good at some point. No idea when.
Mess with the Mob Boss and you might regret it. I don’t regret messing with this Mob Boss – it sounds like I had fun? – but I do regret smoking the whole bowl. I like to have memories of what happened to accurately relay to you, and too much of this Mob Boss did me straight in. User beware.