- Brandon Soderberg
- If you’re looking to relieve your pain, few strains can compare with Venom OG.
Can only your knees be high? Is that possible? That’s how it felt after a generous joint full of Venom OG, an unrelenting hybrid that mixes the near-narcotic Poison OG with regrettably named Colorado favorite Rare Dankness #1, a convoluted cross of a crossbreed that alone sends a smoker into a Nighttime Sudafed-like stupor.
Venom OG really does feel like an overdose, or at least a poisoning. My knees felt it almost exclusively, it seemed. The relief around those joints was really whirling, as if the THC was eddying in that one place.
Soon enough, Venom OG spread to an all-over-the-body high that tucks aches and throbs somewhere else for a few hours and teases transcendence. It is easily one of the most effective strains for pain around, but it doesn’t dull thoughts or leave you hopelessly distracted — watch out or you’ll end up viewing the first 20 minutes of like six different movies never settling on anything and nodding off to sleep.
One strange side effect is Venom OG hits hard (it’s especially combustible) and that made it tough to breathe after smoking. And as summer really heats up and breathing is harder anyway, you should be careful with this one.
In other ways, Venom OG’s an obvious strain. It tastes like it smells: lime and pine, each scent seemingly jumping into one nostril, the scents never quite intertwining, and when you light it up, a burst of salted caramel cookie under all of that. That taste coats your mouth and scrubs away the excitement for flavor, leaving foods either too sweet or really bland, eliminating that base stoner desire to munch for hours. That makes it good for eating if you have to eat and don’t want to eat.
The buds themselves are an over-the-top Kermit the Frog kind of green, and they look like a pointillist painting of a weed because the green ridges and wild orange hairs are so fine, enhanced by a layer of magic hour-hued trichomes. There’s that scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where Cameron, in his Gordie Howe No. 9 Chicago Blackhawks jersey, stares at that famous Seurat painting “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” and then straight through it, until he has abstracted it, the camera doing the seeing for us through a series of extreme close-ups. A nug of Venom OG looks like one of the trees tucked in the right corner of that painting, where light doesn’t quite hit those leaves enough to get a full view of the distinct little dots, and it’s simultaneously ecstatically real and pretty much a blur. That’s Venom OG’s high in a nutshell: There’s something beautiful there but you can’t quite get to it; you’re shackled, self-conscious — a goof in a dumb, ugly hockey jersey trying to figure it out.