Wedding Pie by Bubba

Wedding Pie by Bubba

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we’ve been riding first class on the hype train. Our next stop, Wedding Pie. Grown by local master Bubba, this strain is a cross of Wedding Cake and Pie Face. Cakes, cookies, and gelatos; oh my! Let’s dive into this crystal crusted beast.

I enter the arena, wraiths of raw funk snake around my ankles. A gaseous sour born of curdled cream. Mulched earth exhumes honeycombs of granola sweetness. A roasted warmth stems from the surfaced treasure. Enchanting fumes roar from the flower reminiscent of freshly baked cookies. Wedding Pie is overrun with kind confectionery tones; fitting tribute to its namesake. A melody of grassy foulness drags its knuckles against a woodland freshness. The gentle grind shaves off coughs of molasses, skunk, and dustings of pepper. The tumultuous profile resolves with a tease of exhausted lime sour.

In reckless pursuit, I break the largest buds under my nose. I am pummeled by meteorites of stabbing slick gas. Kernels of pseudo-citrus glue that pierce my senses with needling tacky ferocity. A stale puckering sinew drips from my glands as I acclimate to the realm of punishing freshness. Razors of pine sheathe into scalding plumes of lemongrass as I begin to find my sensory bearings.

Very few qualities can muster enough presence to stand amidst the blistering sandstorm of gas, but the initial oatmeal sweetness manages to fluff up a resurgence. A pillowy token of sugary crunch softens the vapors by imbuing them with a milky body. Wedding Pie is a great example of a flower that hides its claws. Masquerading as a grainy sweet muffin, a tumbleweed of razor wire and vivacious gas lie within.

Wedding Pie lays upon the beach of my rolling tray as a bronzed god. Radiating with a mellow yellow glow this flower may have descended from the heavens above. Sappy trichomes flurry the faces of Wedding Pie drawing additional puckering power from the planes of pear below. Thousands of crystalline spires raise as fiery magnifiers of the frothing tan aura.

Drawing depth into the presence of Wedding Pie are the saturated pockets of eggplant and plum. Tenderly illuminated by the psychoactive gristle, the fanning faces of shadow stake thin-spirited contrast against the attention-hungry torches. Strengthening the already domineering spirit of illumination are the cheesy snakes of hair carving up the cliff sides. Haphazard bolts of wriggly bulk, Zeus and Chester the Cheetah could only conjure such vivid wisps.

Designed around thin elongated stems, Wedding Pie is built quite similarly to the stretchier Cookies strains. The strain seems willing to popcorn, but still it offers some sizeable flowers. Reaching to blunt crowns, the rather uniform flower presents itself a rippled caterpillar studded with the cosmos. Plump and consolidated, Wedding Pie offers the illusion of modest density. A hasty squeeze is met with unexpected grit as the sprawling exterior crumples to reveal an impassable bulwark. It appears that this strain is chocked full of surprises.

Leaf to flame, my palate was plated by ripe roasted nutty vanilla. The armor is quickly liquified by scathing gas. The voracious fumes are laced with a raw ripping funk; a candied musk. My tastebuds drip away to a fleshy soup, stirring with the acidic runoff.

The testing jets bear notes similar to glue that is distanced through its vastly hashier body. The savory grit grounds the dispersed needling vapor. My eyes water as I continuously muster the strength to guzzle down another cloud. In addition to the molten breath, a softed semi-floral backboard develops. Gentle wafts of sun-roasted field grass, chamomile, and pseudo-citrus herb work in combination to salve away the scalding embrace.

The sensation assumes effortlessly, it wasn’t until I was amidst amplified giggle fits that I credited myself with being inebriated at all. Wedding Pie bestows your being with a fluent kindness, a warmth flowing through your core. Every motion, however slight, is rewarded with feathery euphoria. I feel as though my limbs are converted to clouds with every bellowing chuckle. It may be mere moments before my physical form completely dissolves into the atmosphere. A transparent blindfold stretches over my eyes, squeezing my sockets with reassuring pressure. I feel relief gush over me as if it is the first time my eyes had closed after a long day.

My joints are lubricated by tingling grease. Fingers slip naturally across my keyboard as if they were following tracked grooves. As my body continues to dissipate, an unwieldy weight fills my skull. A meteor I am tasked with balancing upon my melting sundae of physical state. This balancing act proves exceedingly difficult as I continue to indulge in Wedding Pie. One must wonder if the only way to ground this swelling anchor is a pillow.

Wedding Pie is a welcome notch onto the belt of the strain that has championed this market for sometime. Wedding Cake, the strain we all love to hate that we love. This flower packs a blazing magnitude of flavor and a rare carefree high. I would recommend this strain to anyone who loves gas and loves to laugh. As always, thanks for reading.

Wedding Pie score: 90/100

Aroma – 18

Physical – 19

Flavor – 20

Consistency – 16

Sensation – 17

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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