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Bruce Banner #3 seeds—man, where do I even start? This isn’t your average backyard bud. It’s like someone took the Hulk’s rage, bottled it, and then whispered sweet nothings of strawberry diesel into its ear. You pop one of these seeds in the dirt, and you’re not just growing a plant—you’re summoning a beast. A green, frosty, high-octane beast that doesn’t ask for permission. It just shows up.
These feminized seeds? They don’t mess around. No guesswork, no wasted time on males. Just straight-up, no-nonsense, resin-dripping females. And they grow fast. Like, blink-and-it’s-blooming fast. Indoors, outdoors, hydro, soil—doesn’t matter. Bruce Banner #3 adapts like it’s got a chip on its shoulder. You give it light, it gives you yield. You give it love, it gives you THC levels that’ll make your cousin Dave forget how to use a doorknob.
And the high? Jesus. It doesn’t creep—it pounces. First you’re giggling at a cat video, next thing you know you’re contemplating the ethics of time travel. Euphoric, cerebral, then boom—your body melts like butter on a hot skillet. It’s not for the faint of heart. Or the faint of lungs. This isn’t a “let’s take a puff and go to brunch” kind of strain. This is “cancel your plans and stare at the ceiling fan” weed.
Flavor-wise, it’s weirdly elegant. Sweet, earthy, with this sharp citrus punch that hits the back of your throat like a sarcastic comment. There’s diesel in there too—like licking a lemon off a gas pump. Sounds gross, tastes amazing. Don’t ask me how that works.
Now, growing it? Not rocket science, but don’t treat it like a houseplant either. It gets tall. Like, “oh crap, it’s touching the lights” tall. You’ll need to train it—LST, topping, whatever your method is. Keep it in check or it’ll take over your grow tent like it owns the place. And it’s hungry. Feed it well or it’ll throw a tantrum. Yellow leaves, droopy stems, the whole diva routine.
But if you do it right—if you give it space, nutrients, and a little attitude—it’ll reward you with buds so dense they feel like rocks. Sticky, stinky, sugar-coated rocks. You’ll open your jar and the smell will punch you in the nose. In a good way. Probably.
I’ve grown a lot of strains. Some are chill. Some are needy. Bruce Banner #3? It’s a wild ride. But damn if it isn’t worth every second. Just don’t smoke it before a job interview. Or a family dinner. Or really anything that requires coherent thought.
Unless you like chaos. Then by all means—light it up.