Hardiman Reviews Designer Marijuana

Hardiman Reviews Designer Marijuana

Today’s thermonuclear pot pellets will take the top of your head off if you’re not careful. So be careful. Here’s how.

Reefer madness is back in a big and legal way and agribusiness (or the Agri-ceutical Business as I call it) is scrambling to expand their market share by creating more designer strains of weed than you can shake a ganja stick at. In appealing to recreational users in underserved niches growers have formulated some highly customized experiences bordering on the absurd. Accordingly, this sincere satirization of those formulations also borders on the absurd and is in keeping with the general weirdness of marijana experiences to begin with. So even though this is a work of fiction, it’s never too far from reality.

My purported purpose (yes – a purported purpose) in writing this piece is to help the uninitiated select a designer pot that’s right for them. Having said that (I love to say that), my real purpose is to generate the knowing smirk we all exhibit when we become momentarily free from years of accumulated struggles. For some it takes the power of an NDE (Near Death Experience) to convince us that all is not as it seems. But usually this knowing smirk is generated more prosaically.

For example sometimes this kind of liberating interruption visits us when we’re right in the middle of doing something very human – as in this case, optimizing our reefer choices. Perhaps your knowing smirk may appear between sentences, or maybe as you look away from the words and all your pretense vanishes. It may not come at all even though you know it’s there. Sometimes you just can’t get there until you’ve plowed through enough of life’s buffeting experiences and finally surrender into, “Alright. Enough already. I get it.” And then we may get that window on the marvel behind all creation – and this isn’t the pot talking either.

I’m holding out for a lot here, and the medium I’ve chosen (a silly faux review of designer pot) is perhaps not the most direct route to this level of self-awareness, however rest assured, whether you feel it or not, it’s all happening anyway – is this coming through? Alright I’ll get on with it.


Enough Framework, Make Us Laugh Mr. Man

Whether your cannabinoid is of the Indica variety (mellow and contemplative) or the Sativa variety (energizing and participatory) the agriceutical industry is hoping to convert a wine-sipping, beer-swilling nation into a THC-toking country of herbonauts. As is typical whenever seismic shifts in consumer tastes are at stake, Venture Capital and Misadventure Capital has come rushing in to get this party started.

There are many methods employed in consuming marijuana and industry innovators continue to formulate ever more sophisticated delivery systems for the would-be stoner. For example in addition to traditional smoking there are derma-weeds: adhesive pot patches and skin creams that deliver the goods to a buzz-deprived market. For the more invasively inclined, Odwalla now offers bong juice enemas in a variety of flavors (although how you’re supposed to tell what the flavor is remains a mystery).

The cannabis industry (and it is an industry) is still in its nascent state. It’s a sleeping giant or at least a really stoned one. Its revenue and game-changing potential is massive. How massive? Think big clunky Motorola cell phones of the early 90’s before the advent of iPhones. Think UNIVAC computers in relation to the modern PC. Think the Quarrymen before the Beatles. In fact, Frontier Data, a data analytics firm focused on the cannabis industry, estimates that legalizing marijuana nationwide would create at least $132 billion in tax revenue and more than a million new jobs across the United States in the next 8 years Chicago Tribune Story.   

So it is with an adventurous spirit and an irrepressible giddiness I attempt to surf this tsunami of sensimilla in an effort to guide dope dabblers in navigating the byzantine world of designer marijuana.



Some people are born to be movie critics, food tasters or financial analysts. I seem to be charmed with ability to adjudge the efficaciousness of marijuana – like whether or not it’s good sh*t. It’s a calling from high, high above, but somebody must be a pathfinder even if that path may be shrouded with the thick, magical smoke of burning cannabis. So in the name of selfless solicitousness of my fellow man, and with a budget of $30,000 courtesy of some patrons of the THC arts who prefer to remain anonymous, I’ve traveled the western United States sampling various customized strains of cannabis so you don’t have to waste time and money at the reefer smorgasbord.

In sampling many of the grass goodies available in the candy store of marijuana dispensaries, I began the process as a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed rookie and ended as a red-eyed, lank-haired stoner. Such is the psycho-active experience of metabolizing THC (Tetrahydrocannabinol) in the human body. It should be noted that the highest concentration of THC is found in marijuana’s flower buds and not the leaves (see picture).

And now, finally, after blowing off my assignment for several weeks due to a typical procrastination jag caused by smoking too much pot, I’m at last here to report back on my findings – at least as I remember them. My motives are completely altruistic or whatever that thing is when you revel in the good fortune of getting paid to do something you’d do for free. In any event, I hope you can now make an informed decision when choosing suitable designer dope.

Through scientific botanical modification, marijuana has been synthesized into an extremely potent plant. You only need an amount measured in the 10s of grams to take off the top of your head. The need for a rolling and smoking a fat spliff has gone up in smoke (sorry, couldn’t resist). In the meantime please remember to vector yourself responsibly when toking ganja. Try to visit those places that best suit your psychic wardrobe. In truth, one can get there without the drug, but till your meditation practice becomes indescribably deep and your breathing inexpressibly rhythmic there’s always pot. And at around $120-300 an ounce, one must be very particular in their selection of the proper strain. You don’t want to become pot-rich and house-poor. So enjoy my fictional field guide to designer marijuana as it’s sold in boutique dispensaries. I’ve listed the name of the designer marijuana strain first and followed it with a short review:


Get Your Mary Tyler Moore On

I was highly dubious on how a crumpled pellet of dried plant leaves could transport me back to Minneapolis in the 1970’s. But 2 puffs later this magical pot had taken a nothing day and suddenly made it all seem worthwhile. 3 puffs into it and I was spinning around and throwing my hat into the air – and I wasn’t even wearing one. Powerful stuff. No word yet on a Rhoda variety.


I See Camel Toes

A groin-altering experience. After maybe 2 hits, everywhere you look, everyone is wearing yoga pants with a camel toe so deep you’d swear you were in Saudi Arabia.

Warning: This drug is not recommended for anyone planning on visiting their grandmother.

Note: In Chicago the drug is sold as Deep Dish Camel Toe.


Spoiler Alert

Who wants to be reminded their time on earth is limited? This is a spoiler alert I can do without.  Just when you thought you could cozy-up and chill out with a comfortably narcotizing joint, Spoiler Alert taps you on the shoulder and reminds you of your mortality. Hey, that’s what my Actuarial App is for. You do have an Actuarial App don’t you?


Permanent Body Orgasm

This agonizingly marvelous medical marijuana not only eradicates chronic pain, but replaces it with sustained tantric ecstasy encompassing the entire body. One measly little puff and all I could say was, “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”


Castor Oil

Not marijuana. Not a narcotic. In fact there’s nothing psychoactive at all about this time-honored elixir. It’s just good old-fashioned Castor Oil. This retro-licious old school comfort tonic hearkens back to a time when scurvy and rickets were public health issues. Somehow it has made its way onto the shelves of modern day marijuana dispensaries in the same way chic restaurants might have turnips on the menu. It’s a prestige maneuver, but nobody ever orders it. Well I did order it (the Castor Oil and not the turnips). The tablespoon of Castor Oil I gulped down was served-up by a matronly lady in an apron named Mabel who’d been working at the Cloverdale Medical Dispensary since the Ford Administration. This oil was some surprisingly trippy stuff considering it’s nothing but cold-pressed seeds from the castor oil plant (Ricinus communis). Five minutes after ingesting it I was transported back to the Depression and belting out “Happy Days are Here Again” complete with jazz hands and a Zoot Suit.



This little blue pot pellet from Pfizer helps brighten the lives of depressed people suffering from HD (Hilarity Dysfunction). One hit of this giggle weed and I was convulsing in laughter at the slightest provocation. And I mean the slightest – I was watching Hee Haw at the time. After 4 hours of sustained laughter my sides began to hurt so badly I called the 800 number and was talked down by a Pfizer killjoy specialist. If you’re not depressed I’d say stay away from Laugh-agra. I mean it had me laughing at Schindler’s List. It’s like having the Midas touch, but with laughter. And just like legendary King Midas’s “be careful what you wish for dilemma”, Laugh-agra is too much of a good thing.   


No, you’re redundant. No you’re redundant. No, you are.

For the paranoiac trip of a lifetime. One inhalation and it’s all comes alive: overwhelming self-doubt, constant déjà vu and spontaneous panic attacks. For the neurotic who has everything, No, you’re redundant. No you’re redundant. No, you are. offers the serious mental masochist yet another level of hell.


Gravity is for Losers

Elon Musk’s foray into the $2 trillion recreational marijuana market. While not quite releasing you from the forces of gravity, it does make you feel light in the loafers. One unintended consequence was that I nearly blew myself up trying to fill my gas tank with electricity.



Designed for locomotive traveler who likes to penetrate the 4th dimension of time while riding on a train. And it’s true. I could actually feel time slow down as we sped up. So even though I arrived in San Diego at 3:15 pm it felt more like 3:16 pm. Whoa – very eerie! But what made it even more peculiar was that the ticket I bought was for Seattle.     


You Are All My Children

For indulging the Messiah Complex in everyone. This delimiting cannabis obliterates the little you and expands the eternal you. You feel you’re both the creator of the Universe and all of its children. Not my favorite experience as I somehow got involved in a back child support payment issue. Some report not quite achieving Messiah status and only getting as far as Oprahhood. And although it is of little consequence, this marijuana has been proven to accelerate team-building in Verizon employees.


Downward Facing God?

A thrill for dyslexic yoga practitioners who revel in this misapprehended canine pose.   


I Can’t Believe I Ate an Entire F*cking Wedding Cake Including the Little Plastic Couple on Top

This powerful appetite stimulator is designed for appetite suppressed cancer patients. Its proprietary satiation inhibitors caused me to circle a Wendy’s Drive-thru for 5 consecutive hours till they called a SWAT team and shot out my tires. Recommend you locate your party near a buffet before partaking.


Placebo’s Clarity

This “no effects” marijuana is designed specifically for busy hipsters who enjoy the soothing ceremonial ballet of “herbing up” but don’t have the time for feeling zonked or getting the munchies.


Elvis Has Not Left the Building

Another Graceland licensed product dedicated to enriching the King’s legend and his estate. This specialty designer weed is as satisfying as one of the King’s beloved grilled peanut butter and banana sandwiches. If you long to feel like a Hunk-a-Hunk Burnin’ Love this pot is for you. After all, 50,000,000 Elvis fans can’t be wrong. And smokers everywhere agree; after just a few hits from the bong, you’ll be gratefully saying, “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Repeated use can lead to singing way too many gospel songs late in your career.


Robert Mondavi’s Liquid Smoke

A cross-promo wine industry entry whose barrel and mortar business model is straining to remain relevant in the herbification of popular culture. Although it seems to serve no practical purpose, this vintner fermented strain of cannabis simulates what it’s like to be drunk on wine. Partyers attend what’s known as a “smoke tasting” where snooty connoisseurs of cannabis sample various blends of the herb either orally or nasally. Those who want to get tipsy, inhale it into their lungs for full effect. Those who just want to savor the aroma of its smoky bouquet, inhale it only into their mouth then swirl it around their tongue for taste before blowing it out into a communal bowl where it’s collected and brought to a shelter for needy pot heads. It’s ass backwards, but it’s quietly being marketed as a reverse gateway drug in the hopes it’ll entice you back into drinking wine.


A Mellow That Can’t Be Harshed

It’s true. No matter how many times I self-sabotaged or conjured up inadequacies, I could only laugh at my predicament because it became self-evident that none of that “feeling bad stuff” was me. And yet it wasn’t like an artificial panacea or some dopey mood enhancer because what I was experiencing was truth stripped of human frailty. I’d give this 6 stars if I could.


Starbucks Zeitgeist Blend

The ubiquitous one continues to burnish its stimulant credentials by capturing the prevalent cultural landscape in fume form. Who else but Starbucks could do this? After smoking a Venti Zeitgeist I was swathed in a warm sense of well-being. Comes with cream and sugar.


Be Here Now

For those who were there then, but aren’t here yet, there’s Be Here Now. One toke and I was so in the moment I had nostalgia for the future. If you like escaping into the “now” only to discover that’s where it’s at, there’s Be Here Now.      


I Finally Get It Now…Oh Sh*t, I Forgot It Again.

This strain of thought-provoking marijuana is licensed by its grower, the American Psychiatric Association, and allows for indelibly keen insights into one’s psyche. This magnificent access comes with a price however. You’re only allowed a vague recollection of the magnificence you beheld and are not allowed to bring back to your present state the awesome wisdom you just experienced.


Deep State Cannabis

Users all seem to agree: “I feel like somebody’s watching me man.” And since this paranoiac pot comes with a government issued “Minder” your paranoia is justified – because you actually are being watched for once. As the effects wore off my minder lightened up and made me a Denver Omelet.


Through the Looking Glass

Not for the faint of heart. Upon smoking this transactional marijuana one is able to switch places with the image they see in a mirror. Personally, I think the whole thing is done with smoke and mirrors, but only because it is done with smoke and mirrors. Sometimes the event ends badly, like when the drug wore off and I was stuck inside the mirror. Luckily I brought my iPhone with me and called AAA to tow me out. Jesus, what can’t they do?  


God’s Phlegm

At first this powerful drug from the Robitussin people was mucous to my ears. It’s being beta-tested and is still in its trial runs. And for good reason. While it does get you closer to the Bosom of God it seems to be at a time when the Almighty is fighting a very bad case of bronchitis. I’d wait till it’s cherry-flavored or something.


I Can’t Believe It’s Not Nirvana

Participants believe they are at one with God as they encompass the unitive nature of existence. When they find out this experience was just a low level Astral Plane mock up, users usually sh*t their pants in wonderment as they realize it can get even better. Upon gaining this window on the sublimity of the Cosmos they vow to move on from this piddling gateway marijuana drug to something much stronger – full time meditation. Once you’ve seen what’s behind the curtain, you’ll never want to come back either. It puts the awe in awesome. Not recommended for hopeless hedonists or people looking to shirk their incarnation.


Prose Doping: Writers (and Readers) Take Warning

I thought I’d take a moment to illuminate a subclass of customized marijuana designed specifically for the writer. These performance enhancing drugs (PEDs) are for literary types determined to express all of creation in a single paragraph. It’s pot for writers (yeah like I need anything more to activate my imagination). There are 3 main classes of prose doping:

  1. Inhibition Uptake Inhibitors: such as Proseact® relieve the Super Ego from constantly judging and allows a greater flow of verbiage through the hypothalamus and on into the fingers. Worked for me. Side effects included a desire to run with scissors and a complete understanding of Marriott’s Vacation Club points awards system.
  2. Matrix Colliders: such as Cleverify® allow the writer to accelerate contradictory ideas around their brain like in a cyclotron, then smash them together at high speed and write about the scattershot results to produce something called “Quantum Humor.” For example the sentence “We must exercise our Free Will,” just sits there, but after smoking Cleverify® I cunningly morphed it into: “We must exercise our Free Will. We have no choice.”
  3. Euphoria Perpetuators: This class of “Hey Jude” drug allows the writer to take a sad story and make it better. Mypenzasord® activates the same neurotransmitters fired by stamp collecting, hitting a beach ball at a Yanni concert or the satisfaction from having flossed for 3 consecutive days (see a doctor if you floss 4 days consecutive days).


Back to Reviews of Broad Spectrum Designer Marijuana

Sierra Pale Ganja

I guess this small scale farmer felt that if it worked for boutique craft beers from micro-breweries, it might work for artisanal pot from owner-operated hobby farms. Didn’t work out. It was like Smoky the Beer was watching me – I couldn’t get the damn thing lit.


Are We Clear?

One puff of this sorcerer’s pixie dust and you’re suddenly invisible. Grower says it’s the ideal pot when your soon to be ex-girlfriend says, “I never want to see you again.” My experience was mixed. Everything except my kidney stones became transparent. Who knows what body part it may leave exposed on you.  


The Reviews are In

I thank you for taking the time to enlighten yourself boutique pot-wise. Perhaps now your untamed Refer Madness will be transformed into educated Refer Gladness. I hope this guide was instrumental in catalyzing a few peak moments of clarity. Because if I could do anything for mankind it would be to create a world where…

At this point a knowing smirk appeared on the author’s face and as he slowly closed his PC.

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