Christmas morning, 1987: the birth of this PsillyRabbit, interloper in the madness of a world too gone to care. Born just in time to witness the tail end of an era, a hazy recollection of seeded Mexican regs, frost-kissed Canadian “dro,” and the divine Uptown haze, drifting through NYC. Just a hop away from my burrow. .7 a dub with no price breaks on zips. Master Kush from cali and Sour D teased us with their elusive presence, but they never stuck around like the other 3 options.
Then came the headband wave, transforming kush into a watered-down commodity, sullied by various crosses ended by a glut of Bubba. Next up the insipid Bluedream, the blight that damned the whole haze lineage.
Years passed in a mycological haze, another bunny lifetime spent in the Myco Cosmos, cultivating every fungus and plant imaginable. Now, in 2024, a pollen chucker on a relentless quest to rekindle the nostalgic euphoria of that sacred haze.
Many have entered the Great HazeRace, a bygone era’s marathon, each yearning for that mythical herb. My search led me through various patches and hidden gardens, and there it was: Midnight Mass from Piffcoast Farms. The genes im looking for?
On a public forum of early 2000s haze aficionados, I caught wind of a cut named 1987 from Purple City Genetics, proposed the elusive terpenes of my youth. Our stellar community at @icmag pulled through, and a cut made the 3,000 miles journy.
An obligation surged within me—these 1987 genes, a precious gift, deserved to spread. It was time to delve into the arts of STS, to forge some S1s. With 1987 pollen on the horizon, I sowed a Midnight Mass on my voyage into hybrid fems.
I haven’t tested these beans yet so there is no pictures, but the thrill is too immense to keep to myself!
I am just excited and needed to share with the only people in the universe who would understand.
If you make the name I choose to call them Ill throw you some beans.
If you make an AI image I like better than what I made ill throw you some.
This is not a give away.
I will entertain sending some for stamps if someone is particularly interested send PM.
This isn’t a giveaway—no promises, no guarantees. Just the shared madness of the haze quest.
Midnight Mass X 1987: the dream is alive, and history awaits.
