Review: Girl Scout Cookies

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Classifying a genuine Girl Scout Cookies strain comes as easily as deciphering a diamond from a Cubic zirconia. Once I got my hands on this strain, I examined it carefully. The sparkly cannabinoid crystals shined so bright it stung my eyes. Immediately, I snapped it open to be embraced by its minty fragrance, and the fresh zest awakened an excitement in me.  From the hairs, a succulent sweet sap hardened my fingertips trying to break it apart into a dusty spell. Packing it tightly into a Dutch Masters wrap, I smudged the bud's sticky grime off my index and thumb to seal and then light its sorcery. I definitely recommend trying the GSC with a Dutch wrap, its pure leaf, popular on the East coast, known for its slow burning pleasure. And you know what they say, slow motion is better than no motion. 

One expansive puff and an enigma of an emotion that I can’t describe rushed from the bottom of my gut buzzing through the crown of my head. This unfathomable secrecy whispered to my subconscious that I was free to roam. Girl Scout Cookies would be the best any time-of-the-day type of strain. Really, you could have an unpredictable day, but stress-free and free from the world's superimposed rules running your daily routines. 

A blanket of contentment embraced me as I puffed so hard on the Dutch wrap that my eyes rolled back and sunk into my sockets. It was barley noon and it felt like more time was added to my day. What next? I spent more of my afternoon having a date for two with Girls Scout Cookies. My physical aches were reduced probably from its OG Kush origin, but an accelerated process conjured confidence in my brain--probably the Durban Poison in the mix kickin' in and up a notch. Precipitated drops of THC appeared on my nose from its effects working like a mean machine, pumping out the sweat of satisfaction. Jetting for the door to find what lies ahead, I welcomed a cool breeze to wash my face. Standing there was a neighborly fine-looking man whacking…at his garden. At this point was it the GSC or his garden tools making my heart sing??

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Untroubled by my usual inhibitions, I ran towards him. Befriending a stranger to lie in his bed of flowers, he offered to split a pint of Hennessy. We pulled huge gulps from the bottle, falling into a lap of luxury, counting clouds carelessly without exchanging words. 

The wave of possibilities brought by the GSC’s creative tide finally washed away. As I snapped back to reality,  I slammed my door to purse my lips around the Dutch wrap once more. That day I felt like an ambitious lover in my own erotica novella or a queen attending to ceremonial house keeping duties. Trapped in a tower and cornered by my fiery tantrums, I was rescued by my savior and protector, Girl Scout Cookies.

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