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Gorilla Bomb seeds. Man, where do you even start with these little monsters? They’re not for the faint-hearted, that’s for sure. You crack one open, plant it, and before long—bam—you’ve got this towering, sticky beast that smells like a skunk got drunk in a chocolate factory. It’s chaos. Beautiful, resin-dripping chaos.
I’ve grown a lot of strains over the years. Some mellow, some moody. But Gorilla Bomb? It’s like someone strapped a jet engine to a gorilla and told it to chill. Spoiler: it doesn’t chill. This thing grows fast, stretches like it’s reaching for God, and then—just when you think it’s done—it fattens up like it’s prepping for hibernation. Dense, heavy buds that’ll snap branches if you’re not paying attention. Rookie mistake? Not staking early. Learned that the hard way. Twice.
Now, the high. Oh boy. It hits like a freight train made of marshmallows and rage. First it’s all giggles and “hey, this isn’t so bad,” then suddenly your brain’s doing cartwheels and you’re trying to remember how to spell your own name. It’s not couch-lock in the traditional sense—it’s more like your soul wants to dance but your body forgot how knees work. Creative types love it. So do people who don’t have to talk to other humans for a few hours.
Flavor’s wild too. Not subtle. Not polite. Think diesel fumes soaked in dark chocolate and pine needles. Some people say it’s too much. I say they’re cowards. It lingers on your tongue like a bad decision you don’t regret yet. You know the kind.
Indoor growers—listen up. You’re gonna need airflow. Like, serious airflow. This plant gets stanky. Not “oh, it’s a little dank” stanky. I mean “neighbors are asking questions” stanky. Carbon filters? Mandatory. Maybe two. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
And yield? She gives. Oh, she gives. If you treat her right—good soil, decent nutes, a little love and maybe some whispered threats—she’ll pay you back in sticky, glittering gold. Harvest day feels like Christmas morning if Santa was a weed dealer with a grudge.
Honestly, Gorilla Bomb isn’t for everyone. Some folks want gentle, easygoing strains that don’t talk back. This one talks back. Loudly. But if you’re into bold, unapologetic weed that punches first and asks questions never—this might be your new favorite mistake.
Would I grow it again? Already did. Twice. Thinking about a third. Maybe outdoors this time, just to see if it tries to take over the yard. Wouldn’t be surprised.