Green Python

The Origin Story Nobody Asked For

After 15+ failed attempts, House of Funk finally birthed this serpent by basically telling classic indicas to "make it snakier." The result is a strain that looks like it belongs in a terrarium and hits like someone replaced your spine with memory foam. Historical records show breeders kept crossing plants until one literally hissed—marketing gold.

Effects: Welcome to the Concrete Couch

Expect the full indica trifecta: eyelids that weigh 400 lbs, a brain that forgets what "standing" feels like, and the sudden realization that your remote is 3 feet away but might as well be on Mars. Great for turning humans into decorative throw pillows. Side effects include time dilation and profound conversations with your cat about string theory.

Flavor & Aroma: Pine-Sol Meets Gas Station

Terpenes went full chaotic neutral here—myrcene brings the earthy basement vibes, limonene adds a citrus "hello" before getting body-slammed by diesel undertones. It smells like someone cleaned a forest with gasoline and then apologized with orange peels. The smoke tastes like a lumberjack's armpit after a citrus bath—oddly compelling, deeply confusing.

Growing: Perfect for People Who Hate Moving

This plant stays so compact you could grow it in a shoebox, but yields 3-5 oz like it's overcompensating for something. Flowers in 8-9 weeks, during which it develops a trichome coat so thick it looks like it got into a glitter fight. Pro tip: the more you stress it, the louder it screams terpenes. Treat it like that one friend who only texts after midnight.

Medical Uses (Beyond Avoiding Responsibilities)

Doctors basically prescribe this for "life being too lifey." Shreds pain, annihilates insomnia, and reduces stress to the point where your boss could be on fire and you'd just giggle. PTSD patients love it because it turns trauma into a mild inconvenience. Warning: may cause excessive snacking and belief that your couch is a spaceship.

Who Should Smoke This

Ideal for people whose spirit animal is a sloth on Ambien. If your daily plans include "maybe existing," this is your soulmate. Not recommended for anyone with a to-do list, upcoming marathons, or the ability to feel shame about eating an entire pizza horizontally. Essentially, if you've ever used "bed rot" as a verb, congratulations—you've found your brand.