The budista didn’t get too specific about these gaudy pebbles, which looked like sickly green candy or those fake rocks found at the bottom of your more pretentious fish tanks. “It’s made differently from regular Moon Rocks,” she said, chucking a couple of these weird stones into an anonymous green bottle.
They turned out to be as tender to the touch as so many Reese’s Pieces, breaking apart to reveal much glittery emerald effluvia along with a big chunk of sticky kief-crusted hashish. It had the look of fairly heavy stuff, so I blocked out a suitably long interval at home to put it to the test.
The taste was utterly foul, but the exhale sweet and subsequent high very lively and uplifting. Thus sailing along pleasantly in the upper ether, I was interrupted by ravenous hunger and, after a massive plate of spaghetti, the inevitable crash of the buzz.
Happily, there was plenty left over for another round, so I began to break up the hash chunk. Again, it was easy to smoke, the reveries induced were pleasantly intense and, for the first time ever, the product was gone before the review finished. This made me conclude these were less Moon Rocks as weird bits of sub-orbital flotsam found out in a Van Allen belt — in the general lunar direction but nowhere near there.
Platinum Moon Rocks
The wrap: An acceptable substitute for Moon Rocks, if you only want to get half as high. Bonus points for the coloration.
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