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    To the Moon!
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All the stress and anxiety I had is now completely gone. I'm in a very uplifted, calm mood with great pain relief and relaxation.



Ranked 10 out of 236 Rated Pre-Rolls

Product Specifications

What & How

Like the single malt whiskey of pre-rolls. Sourced from one strain of weed and pre-rolled for effortless consumption. Ignite, inhale, take it slow.





Filter Type


Side Effects




Terpenes Profile


Grow Environment


Package Contents/Qty

One 1g joint


Don't Smoke A Goldfinger Before The Grocery Store

House of Cultivar's infused joint is no joke.

I haven't had a day off in more than three weeks. I've fallen asleep with my laptop open on top of my lap every night and recently stole a roll of toilet paper from a restaurant around the corner because I haven't had time to go to the store.

I have a tendency to overcommit myself both personally and professionally because I like a good challenge. Maintaining three calendars, my Tinder matches, and a healthy diet of pot and pilates is not easy sober, let alone after smoking the Goldfinger-infused joint that I was tasked with rating and reviewing this week. Needless to say, I blocked off some time for the smoke. 

Now nearly uncomfortably high, with no toilet paper or snacks, I contemplated enlisting the help of Postmates to complete my chores.

Normally I don't smoke a whole lot of flower, and when I do, I tend to stick with strains rich in CBD and the terpene pinene, which I’ve found can counteract the psychoactive effects of THC. To be honest, I wasn't super excited about getting too high to function—something I expected considering the Goldfinger includes cannabis oil and kief. But when my editor asked if I’d like to take it on, I thought fuck it. Life is hard for a weed rater in 2018, y'all.

Nevertheless. The Goldfinger joint was perfectly packed, rolled tightly, and burned nicely—no canoeing which seems to happen more frequently with infused joints than the traditional joint, and it doesn't hurt that it was a super smooth smoke. The Pineapple flower had hints of fresh citrus and tasted like sugar cookies with a light herbal note. Within minutes of lighting up and taking my first hit, I was high. I smoked what felt like the whole thing, but really I only had around six or seven puffs before deciding to call it quits. 

Now nearly uncomfortably high, with no toilet paper or snacks, I contemplated enlisting the help of Postmates to complete my chores but instead resolved that a walk to the store would be a nice way to burn off some of the acute anxiety I was now feeling. I made my list: hemp milk, toilet paper, and popsicles. I devised the perfect plan for getting in and out of the grocery store without having to interact with anyone. 

As it turns out, walking into the store super baked was a real shock to the system. The fluorescent lighting and the security guards and the aisles and aisles of packaged foods made me feel as though I was in a minimum-security prison with gluten-free bagels and vegan cheese in close reach. I immediately put my sunglasses on to blend in and grabbed a basket. 

It's rare that I leave the house without running into someone I know or someone I've gone on a bad date with. I've lived in the same neighborhood for the last six years and refuse to set my single signal on Tinder to more than a mile radius. Look, I'm not into long-distance dating and even less into driving. Going to the grocery store means running the gauntlet of Gordons, Chads, and Brads. Today was no different.

A former Tinder date I once dubbed "Hot Jesus" suddenly appeared in the aisle just as I was doing some price comparisons on toilet paper.

"Hey Kate,” said Hot Jesus.

Super stoned, I froze, mumbled something completely incoherent about the weather, and unsure if Hot Jesus even heard me, proceeded to grab the closest thing to me before just walking away.

This day was going great. I continued to navigate the grocery store like I had never before gone shopping. I was a wreck. After what felt like an eternity (but was probably closer to about 20 minutes), I was ready to check the fuck out.

The walk home felt more like a crawl through quicksand. Once I was back in the safety of my apartment, I let out a loud sigh of relief and melted into my couch.

I don’t think I’ll be smoking a Goldfinger anytime soon, but that's just me, a self-identified psychoactive lightweight. Likewise, if you're new to cannabis, have a low tolerance, or often get anxious or paranoid while high, I'd definitely recommended something on the lighter side. 

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