Rudeboi OG by K.F.O.

toasted n’ posted presents…

Rudeboi OG by Kush Family Originals

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Rudeboi OG by Kush Family Originals

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted! I’m super pumped to bring a new producer to your attention. Today, we will be welcoming Kush Family Originals to our criticism. This strain, labeled as ‘Corporate Kush’, is actually Rudeboi OG. Kush Family Originals is being introduced at the top-tier price point, however, this particular strain is taunting competitors by providing immense quality at a real value. Rudeboi OG, for those who don’t know, is the indica-dominant lovechild of OG Kush and Face-Off OG. Rudeboi has already been getting a lot of love around Seattle from brands such as Gold Leaf, so I wonder what nuances Kush Family Originals will introduce? While this flower only tests in the neighborhood of 15% cannabinoids, this producer is a missionary of the terpene gospel. I love tearing into some new hype, let’s see if their word holds up.

I carefully dismantle the layers of colorful packaging, anxiously awaiting to be put face to face with the legendary Rudeboi OG. I nervously unfasten the cap and I am met by a brisk woody bite laced with a corrosive lemon zest. I struggle to entertain the simmering sucrose annihilation. The abrasive sweetness forces my senses to teeter on the edge of ecstasy and agony. I grit my teeth as I endure every pulp of the formidable scent. The scathing wounds are quickly glazed over by a mysterious chilling salve. The note most closely resembles a tarnished mint being pounded into an immovable sheet of citrine sap. I feel as if I’d just snapped a ‘new car’ air freshener in half and driven the sundered edges up my nostrils.

My pallet acclimates and began to enjoy the gritty sugary erosion of my nasal cavities. The blanketing tang is overcast by a confident hashy shadow. Ushered in under the looming cloud is a subdued soothing gas. The gas becomes bogged down, dragged into the citrus muck, polymerizing into a meringue mimicry. The frosted forest froth rises up once again, ushering in a brief era of peace to the kingdom of tumultuous lemon.

In hopes of once again inciting an aromatic rebellion; I tear through the castle walls! I lunge after every freshly torn plant fiber, in wild pursuit of accidental discovery. I am knocked off-course by a wildly augmented bolt of gas. The temporarily dormant citrus whips the piercing wind into a prolonged frenzy. I brave the pine-driven hurricane, seeing no end in sight. The gas continues to drum up strength to points where it actually outpaces and engulfs the crusading lemon. The bulldozing pungency of the ferocious storm becomes so raw that it touches upon  blistering kisses of glue. Such an unruly pungency locked away within the confines of a friendly, citrus candy is a force to be reckoned with.

What do you get when you cross two legendary Kush phenotypes? A tsunami of nostalgia as you are taken back to the classic OG Kush era with the bud structure that captured all of our hearts. Rudeboi OG demonstrates formidable density; every petal reinforced by another, and cemented together by layers of tacky resin. Like a drizzle-designed sandcastle at the beach, the foliage of Rudeboi OG mounds ontop of itself effortlessly, building bizarre mesas with teetering peaks. The steadfast density reassures the sprawling ambition of Rudeboi OG, building awkward cones of sticky scintillation.

Like rogue strands of a glittery boa, tender resin glands trickle in veins across the surface of Rudeboi OG. The trichomes demonstrate a milky disposition, frozen into stalwart droves of psychoactivity. The cloudy stalks stampede over almost all exposed flesh, only leaving small patches of naked flesh. The volume is inspiring, but the number of stalks missing heads is not. There are still many heads to hunt, however, you are well aware of how many heads there aren’t. This is what I believe caused this flower to be the introductory strain at a special price point. Now don’t get me wrong, by i-502 standards, this baby is still top shelf…I’m just a stickler.

Speaking of ‘stick’ there are waves of rich color that defines Rudeboi OG. Alternating plates of firm olive and gentle pear shimmy down the sides of Rudeboi OG like the writhing scales of a snake. Jutting out from the occasional lapses in the verdant armor is an explosive hue of fiery lime. The color appears sporadically in random bursts, as if it was actually erupting from the core of these flowers. Rudeboi displays several shades of green, but carries a somber mossy aura. The creeping moss buries tendrils of roasted gold. There aren’t many stigmas to appraise, just small neutered clusters that do not extend their reach far past the concrete crust. Perhaps they are strangled under the plates of tectonic dank as they shift their sticky soil.

Leaf to flame, my tongue is punctured by a fistful of gritty citrus needles. Gushing out from the quills into my wounds is a woody forest-driven syrup. The clashing confectionary rushes down tart ramparts like a waterfall. The discarded mist rains down like shattered candy. It as if someone sucked down a lemon lollipop to a fine point, and then jabbed me in the tongue with it. Offering no time to recover, the thrust is followed by a cindering kiss of chemical-gas. The abstract singe is best described as a windex that is absent of its citrus, springy, or floral qualities. If I could see my throat; I’m sure it was evaporating off into black flakes, decimated by the tantalizing firebrand.

 

Rolling off of the smoldering wake, are peels of chem-soaked lemon. The discarded fruit scraps seem as if they had been seeped in a puddle of glue. The raw, satisfying tongue smack of artificial paste wrapped in a cast of fermenting, beaten lemon. The amorphous storm of gassy adhesive and decaying fruit is eventually buried into a bank of enlivening herbal hash. A smoldering bouquet of pine, chamomile, mint, and hash seem to calm the raging lemon giant. The flavor demonstrates complexity as it evolves to let varying notes of flavor domineer over its counterparts, I enjoyed the revolving ferocity. Whatever flavors or face of Rudeboi OG you are experiencing at any given moment, it will surely prove to be pungent and an aggressive ally.

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The come up approaches like a flood of warm muck into a mud bath. I become submerged into the bulky liquidity, basking in benign euphoria. As I am incubated under the surface, I feel a gentle exhilaration seize my mind. I felt my brain gasp, it is stormed with an unholy renaissance of ideas and inspiration. While my mind runs in wild circles attempting to assemble these vast concepts, I am far from putting that theory into practice. The earth I was buried under became more solid with time, a serious hinderance is imposed upon my movements. What was formerly a mud bath, is now a pit of dampening quicksand. I have no desire to fight the deadening will of Rudeboi OG, its only desires are to swaddle me in blankets of comfort and stimulate my mind. I nuzzle in gleefully, hopelessly chasing my ideas around my cluttered mind. Along with this bizarre contrast of physical dormancy and mental invigoration; are jolts of energy and a general sense of ‘chattiness’. There is an overwhelming urge to discuss these wild tangents of creativity, possibly because you are unable to carry them out yourself due to the unwieldy body high.

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Rudeboi OG is one of those awesome strains that seems to change personalities throughout the course of the smoke. For a high that is allegedly indica dominant, this thing had me going for a while. I found a powerful reserve of energy within Rudeboi OG to accommodate the commonly debilitating physical sensations. If this is the caliber of flower you are teasing at a reduced price point, I’ve got to get my hands on your top shelf. Kush Family Originals, welcome to Washington. I’m sure if you continue to introduce flower of this quality, you will be around for a long time. If you want to try some of this dank for yourself, visit The Bakeréé in Seattle. They always stock the hot fire. As always, thanks for reading.

Rudeboi OG Total Score: 87/100 points

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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