Fruit Brute by Saints

toasted n’ posted proudly presents…

Fruit Brute by Saints

Fruit Brute by Saints

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we are proud to continue to parade of Saints flower! Today, we have a flower that is known to be less than polite. This strain is Fruit Brute; a sativa hybrid that is a volatile cross of Shishkaberry and AK-47. Well, how fortuitous is it that we just freshly reviewed Shishkaberry? I’d say we are primed and ready to pummel this Fruit Brute to a pulp. While I’m sure that this strain wields a palpable profile, the THC percentage is modest at 15.2%. But like a broken record or stubborn parent, I’m still echoing “Flavor is what matters most!” I fully expect to be taken to another dimension by this product despite what some silly digits say. Let’s tie ourselves to the will of this juicy juggernaut and see if we survive the ride!

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As I’m unscrewing the jar, I scoff: “How ‘brute-ish could this actually be?” Little did I know how quickly I would receive an answer to this recklessly posed question. I am doused in a sticky, fragrant, sour, mist. The essence encroaches like a fruit basket being tossed into rotating helicopter blades. Every fiber of my being becomes drenched in a tropical, sticky, blueberry sweetness. Out of the pores of Fruit Brute excretes a punishably rich tropical tang. The fruit bouquet appears to be spearheaded by a community of: blueberry, mango, papaya, and a light kiss of pineapple. The luscious fragrance trails off into a zesty citrus wake. Beneath the rumbling fruit is a boiling earthy base. Between the two planes is a piercing freshness. There is a piercing freshness that accommodates this runaway train of tropical essence. I find it often fringes on the classic ‘cleaning agent’ fragrance, though it seems to be commonly absorbed into the body of the funky fruit stew. Independent or not; the revitalizing bolt acts as a catalyst, inviting in a bubbly quality to muddle the mixture. After prolonged exposure, each inhalation of Fruit Brute is like a sip from a bourgeois fruit-enhanced sparkling water.

In hopes of dismantling the shreds of stability Fruit Brute already hangs by, I snap the flower in twain. A skunky, citrus, spike erupts from the earth. I find my nostrils skewered upon the proud horn of the resurgent guardian. The ferocity of this new note is immeasurable! Even as I back away from the flower, the scent refuses to vacate my nose. I spurn helplessly in the tumultuous wake of skunky, raw, tree fruit.


If I had to summarize my first impression of Fruit Brute’s appearance in a short expression; A ghost on fire. Projecting a ghostly aura, Fruit Brute goes to great lengths to mask its actual color. The foliage is predominately a salad of drained olive and pear hues. Some petals appear to be suffocated of their verdancy, drifting about in an ambiguous column of blueish greens. The scraggly petals of Fruit Brute jut outward in random directions, like a tossing sea that was flash frozen in position. The bud structure surely reinforces the appraisal of sativa dominance. Each nug spears upward into a stalwart spire of toiling leaf. That being said, each flower is well filled out with a bulky core reinforcing the sprawling expedition of the exterior petals.

The pale coloration of Fruit Brute sings a song of fire and ice; walls of glacial trichomes stand against a siege of fiery red stigmas. Wild nests of hairs bound over petals, igniting  them with shadows of their rich color.  The whipping torrents of blazing orange is the sole display of dazzling color atop Fruit Brute. A rebellious display of lively color atop a resin-encrusted tundra. Competing hues appear to be locked away as ghostly spectators under the tyranny of the shimmering shelves. Milky trichomes stand tall with most of their heads intact; mirroring the intense spectacle of contrast cast upon the faces of this flower.

Leaf to flame, I step into another dimension. Immediately upon entry to this new universe, I am scathed by whipping wind of the untamed skunky tropics. I plummet to down to the ground, subsequently battered by savory earthen berry. In the heart of the earthen grit is a zesty wood finish. Out of this culmination the fruity components primarily pursue two directions: a dry nutty pineapple or a blueberry lime jolt. Both delicate tangy compatriots are quickly consumed by a riotous smoky quality. The distinguished musk traps the narrow vortex of volatile tropical tang within its consuming borders. I find the initial tenderness ferments in the ‘smoker’ and comes out to entertain certain augmentations. I recognize an extra punch added in the forms of a moist pine kiss and a satisfying charcoal bite. The flavor is ultimately what I’d imagine a yellow Starburst that was rolled in pepper and set on fire would taste like.

The high struck me surprisingly quickly. I felt as if I was just struck by a blow gunner in the Amazon. I stagger as my head teeters on my shoulders. I stand paralyzed halfway convinced that my skull is going to slip off my shoulders onto the floor. My joints feel like so many chips of butter perched above a steaming pile of flapjacks. Despite my buttery debilitations, the high is a rocket of positivity. I feel my mental state enhanced to become brightened, enlightened, and stimulated. My physical form is still useless, further coercing me to chase the tails of tangents.


I feel as if I could design a way to heal to the world, yet I am currently powerless to enact any step. I’m locked away in a motivational stupor. I can only hope that when my body is freed from the ethereal prison that my heart will still share the same conviction. The inspiration enters my mind as a storm of cleansing steam. The billowing muse adds a certain aloof brevity to all of my thoughts. I feel as if managing my mind is now the equivalent of wrangling a second grade class back inside after recess.

Emotionally and philosophically, Fruit Brute pulls you in a lot of directions. I would consider this strain to be an excellent tool for meditation. I feel that it disengages the body to a powerful degree while encouraging thoughtfulness and empathy. The high has a moderate-to-long duration, but towards the end I certainly feel the indica qualities outcompete the sativan inspiration. The come up was a kind and coachable ramp, but the comedown hits like a hammer wrapped in a down-mattress.

If I had to choose one attribute that I feel Fruit Brute undoubtedly enhances; it would be problem-solving. I feel that the meditative embrace of this high would be useful to anyone who struggles with maintaining focus or sitting still. (I know I do.) I have to say I was correct in assuming the quality of this flower, despite the tested percentage. This flight was to the moon and back! I’d have to fish pretty hard to summon a single criticism about this flower, my score will confirm this. As always, thanks for reading.

Fruit Brute Total Score: 95/100 points

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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