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Strain review: Pineapple

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Pineapple brings the potential for the “most embarrassing, primal munchies” ever. - BRANDON SODERBERG
  • Brandon Soderberg
  • Pineapple brings the potential for the “most embarrassing, primal munchies” ever.
This stuff speeds to your lungs and stops to bop you in the back of the throat with a light burning feeling followed by a blip of fruit taste (mango more than pineapple and a Mango Melon Starburst more than a real mango), like a lil salve. And then you exhale and endure a nice, long, time-stretched few hours of well, nothing, or what feels like nothing. See, Pineapple’s comprehensive high is such a shock to your system that it’s as if you’ve jumped a few plateaus of emotion too quick, all the sad or anxiety or rage or loathing exsanguinated, so you’re left a little confused, disoriented, dissociated, which is a lot like feeling nothing. But there’s also an invincibility Pineapple gifts.

There are metaphors for insight. You know, “eureka” moments — Plato’s cave or those glasses in John Carpenter’s They Live (we will avoid The Matrix pill metaphor forever because the alt-right jacked it) come to mind. But Pineapple’s effects are more visceral and subliminal, like an artful key change in a song or some svelte camera move that gives you chills before you realize what even happened to give you those chills. It’s psychedelic in the sense that it’s perception-changing; with it comes a brief break from ego and plain old comprehension. And Pineapple’s buds look hyper-real, oblong, oval, like a pineapple almost, with a color that is Kelly Green curled up inside a Fern Green (if you forgot to water the fern last week so it’s looking a little down and brown), and the way the crystals gather and coat it makes it look fake, as if immaculately sculpted by tiny, tiny hands, mechanical-looking, ancient and futuristic at the same damn time.
On the less dignified side of things, it did bring on some of the most embarrassing, primal munchies of my life, just standing there in my kitchen, gnawing on some naan, not even in control enough to sit down and eat it, just stuffing it in my mouth by the sink regretting each bite, not stopping though and then feeling sick to my stomach and disgusted by my lack of self-control.

When you bring up Pineapple, many smokers these days mention Pineapple Express. Comparing the two proves useful. Pineapple’s like the low-budget original — a tiny and tight expression, pure all the way through — and Pineapple Express, the sensory overload Hollywood sequel with bigger everything and fewer ideas and more fun but all shallow rewards. Pineapple Express is the Rambo: First Blood Part II to Pineapple’s First Blood, if that makes sense. Pineapple Express’ reputation is as a kind of mind-fudging weed of the highest order, and well, Pineapple doesn’t fudge your mind much. It massages it, gets all the gunk out, and leaves you feeling unperturbed, impervious to getting tripped up.

Strength: 8
Nose: Sriracha pepper sprinkled on a mango slice
Euphoria: 8
Existential dread: 2
Freaking out when a crazy person approaches you: 2
Drink pairing: A whiskey sour
Music pairing: DJDS, “Friend of Mine”
Rating: 10

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