WHITEWIDOWSEEDSBANK

Every stoner I trust has that one story—giggling in a grocery store aisle, crying at a cloud, writing poems on napkins at 2 am. Mine? I accidentally confessed love to someone I barely knew because White Widow made their voice sound like cello music. We laughed until my ribs hurt. It’s not a romance strain—it’s a truth serum in leaf form. There’s wild power in its simplicity. Which is why I always stash a couple packs of the best White Widow seeds at the back of my fridge like contraband happiness, just waiting for the next great mistake.