I made a pretty epic mistake, you guys. I decided to smoke some of Prohibition Herb’s Southwest Stomper at like 6 p.m. on a Monday, and let me tell you … it wasn’t my greatest idea.
Now, this is not a knock on the strain itself. This is me knocking the fact that I almost passed out on my couch before eating the huge pizza I ordered because I smoked this strain too early in the day. And that, my friends, was hard to fight through.
I didn’t know what to expect when I picked up this strain from the dispensary. Normally, our friends over at Prohibition will help to be our tour guide through the world of cannabis (i.e. they’ll tell us what we should review for the issue, and they never steer us wrong). This time, though, my editor dropped the ball and forgot to reach out to them prior to the holidays. What resulted, you ask? Oh, just me making the decisions for them since we were on a time crunch.
I decided to go with Southwest Stomper for a couple of reasons. The first is that I had never smoked this strain, so I knew we wouldn’t be doubling up on the reviews. The second reason was, well, I panicked. I panic ordered, just like I did in restaurants when life was normal, and I ended up with a strain I’d never heard of.
Luckily, that little misstep worked out better for me with weed than it does when I panic-order booze. While I may not have been familiar with Southwest Stomper, I became acquainted with it really quickly. Like very quickly.
If I had taken the time to read the description, I would have learned that this strain is an indica. It’s an indica with 26.16% THC, so it’s also a very strong indica. It’s known for having relaxing and balanced effects — which Prohibition describes as “tranquil” and “sedative.” But I didn’t read the description, so I didn’t know.
That lead to me lighting up a bowl or two (definitely two) really early in the evening. I literally just grabbed this strain from the dispensary and hauled ass home to light it.
To be fair, I probably would have been more suspect of the strain had I seen big ol’ nugs of weed inside the container, but this strain doesn’t look intimidating. The tiny, round deep green nugs look a little like miniature Brussels sprouts. What’s intimidating about Brussels sprouts?
It didn’t smell intimidating, either. It smelled earthy and piney, which was totally fine by me. It was a pleasant smell, especially when compared to some of the stank-ass strains we’ve reviewed recently.
So, nothing really seemed like it would be out of the norm. I expected to be stoned but not too stoned, high but not too high, and relaxed but not too relaxed.
That is not what happened.
What happened was that I lit those two bowls, smoked them, and then immediately went into comatose mode. My whole body felt like it was filled with sand, weighed down by the sheer volume of the grains. I didn’t want to move off of the couch. I wanted to curl up into a ball and lay around instead.
The only problem? I’d ordered, I shit you not, an 18-inch pizza from Home Slice, and it was supposed to arrive at my door about the time the sandbags set in. Side note: I did not realize, prior to ordering that pizza, how large 18 inches truly freaking is. I way overshot it with that pizza.
Anyway, by the time the pizza arrived, I was so stoned that I could barely function. My arms wouldn’t cooperate to lift the door handle. My legs wouldn’t cooperate to get my ass up to walk to the door to lift the door handle. And my brain couldn’t convince my arms or legs to cooperate. All of my parts went on strike.
That wasn’t a fleeting feeling, either. That heavy, sleepy feeling hung around me in the air as I melted into the couch. I could have stayed there for days, you guys, all wrapped up in a blanket, stoned and happy.
I did not do that, though. When I finally convinced my limbs to play nice, I made a beeline for the kitchen and ate more than half of that freaking pizza. I was so hungry. I then dug up some cookie dough in the fridge and made all of the cookies in a mad dash to satiate my hunger. I even tried to fit the entire package on one cookie sheet, which left me with some oddly shaped, and very large, cookies.
Not that I’m complaining. I ate every single one of those things — and then washed them down with the one soda that was in my fridge. I’m not even sure where it came from, but I found it. Sorry in advance to whoever left it here. My bad, I guess.
Once I was stuffed full of food, I convinced myself to power through the sleepiness by watching some creepy stuff on TV. I made it to about 9 p.m. before passing out where I was sitting.
When did I wake up, you ask? Oh, I woke up the next effing day at 9 a.m., late for both my deadline and who knows what else. I’ll tell you this, though: It was worth it. It was worth being late. I slept like a damn baby.
So, I guess the moral of this story is that sometimes mistakes are awesome, like this one turned out to be. We have no idea what we were supposed to review for Prohibition this week (sorry, guys!) but it doesn’t matter cause Southwest Stomper was a great choice that I accidentally made.
If you’re going to pick some up, and I highly suggest that you do, just make sure to go grab some carbs and junk food before you head home. Once you light up a bowl it will be lights out for both your limbs and your brain, and if you’re lacking good snacks, well … RIP to your sanity. So, just be prepared, buy some delicious snacks, don’t smoke it at 6 p.m., and this strain is a real winner.