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Deadhead OG seeds aren’t for the faint of heart. This isn’t your mellow, background buzz kind of strain—it’s loud, unapologetic, and hits like a freight train with a grudge. You crack open a jar and the smell alone could knock your socks off. Funky, gassy, with that sharp pine bite that makes your nose twitch. Some folks love it. Others? They back away like it’s radioactive. Which, in a way, it kinda is. Psychologically speaking.
These seeds grow into plants that don’t mess around. Thick, sticky buds. Dense as hell. You touch one and your fingers come away like you dipped them in tree sap. Not the kind of plant you trim in your Sunday best—this is a hoodie-and-gloves situation. And the high? It’s got teeth. Starts with a cerebral slap, then melts into a body buzz that can either glue you to the couch or launch you into a three-hour YouTube rabbit hole about ancient civilizations. Depends on your mood. And your tolerance.
I’ve seen people underestimate Deadhead OG. Big mistake. They take a fat rip, thinking it’s just another OG cross, and then twenty minutes later they’re staring at the ceiling wondering if time is broken. It’s not. You are. Temporarily.
Genetically, it’s a mix of Chemdawg 91 and SFV OG Kush. Which explains the chaos. Chemdawg brings the diesel and the brain fog. SFV OG brings the body melt and that weird sense of euphoria that makes you want to text your ex and apologize for things you didn’t even do. It’s a dangerous combo. Beautiful, but dangerous.
Growing it? Not exactly beginner-friendly. It’s a little finicky. Likes warm temps, hates humidity. Mold magnet if you’re not careful. But if you dial it in—if you really baby it—you’ll get rewarded. Big time. Yields are solid, and the quality? Chef’s kiss. Just be ready to babysit it. This isn’t a set-it-and-forget-it strain. It’s more like raising a temperamental teenager with a genius IQ and a weed habit.
Some growers swear by Deadhead OG for medical use—pain, insomnia, anxiety. I get it. It’s like a weighted blanket for your brain. But you gotta respect it. Take too much and you’re not curing anxiety, you’re just replacing it with existential dread and a sudden obsession with your own heartbeat.
Honestly, I love it. But I don’t always love it. You know? It’s like that one friend who’s a blast at parties but you wouldn’t trust them to house-sit. Deadhead OG is wild, unpredictable, and sometimes exactly what you need. Other times, it’s just too damn much. And that’s kind of the point.
Anyway. If you’re thinking about growing it—do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This strain doesn’t play nice. It plays real.