Dream blunt rotation: travel edition
It’s in the name innit? get lost’s editorial staff describe their ideal spliff situation on a sojourn overseas. Ideally those three guests have some sort of a connection to travel, however flimsy. Stay tuned for the nightmare rotation.
My dream foursome (not like that, although maybe like that, never say never) involves renowned astrophysicist and king of the mustache, Neil deGrasse Tyson, cowboy DJ and white dude that literally be everywhere, Diplo, and Seth Rogen. Yep, the guy from Superbad. And Knocked Up. And many other films with the now-cancelled James Franco. This dream foursome also involves the most comfortable, deluxe glamping bedding (still not like that) on the market that’s been set up under the most epic night sky in Chile’s Atacama Desert. Hence the blankies—desert temps dip at night.
I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain why this is the dream blunt set up, but here goes: Seth Rogen is invited because he is synonymous with good ganja and all I want to do is get high and listen to his laugh on repeat. Can that shit, plug me in. While Seth is rolling (one one of his beautifully crafted weed trays) Diplo is on vibe control, we’re talking bud beats—the kind that hijack your nervous system and set it to self-soothe. Diplo is also a man of the people, he’s travelled A LOT so I’m expecting some obscure Chilean house to really complement the setting.
Then there’s Neil, Neil who will quite literally transport us to different galaxies, universes, realms with his mellifluous orations on time travel and cosmology and black holes. This is like that time you went camping down the coast with your mates, smoked a cheeky spliff and looked up at a few stars—but beam it up to 100. And add aliens. My spirit has left my body and is now wandering around a new star system. Oh, and Seth brought chicken nuggets.
We’re in a car on a road-trip across the U.S., east to west to escape the cold. It’s quite chilly - we’re not far past Philly, so it’s puffy jackets and thick hoodies in Azaelia Banks’ pickup truck, which kind of resembles The Simpsons’ Canyanero but with a tray.
Azalea’s connection to travel is that she globetrots the world and verbally abuses the fans that come to her shows in every country she visits (a tenuous link, I admit). Michael Palin is to my left in the back seat and he’s reasoning with Azealia, describing his trip to North Korea and how even countries suffering from squalid oppression under ruthless dictators have something to offer in a social and cultural sense. Azalea refuses to defer to Palin’s royalty as a traveller/funny dude and is spewing some harsh but verbose swearing that is funnier than it is offensive. Palin gets it because he’s a chiller and is so well travelled and has seen it all before.
I check in with George Best (legendary footballer, journeyman in his later days) in the front passenger seat who is rolling one of the fattest baseball bats I’ve ever seen, but it’s taking him ages because he’s really drunk. He says something funny and we all laugh. Azealia tells everyone to back up and fuck me dead if she doesn’t open the door of the portable electric oven she has hooked up to the car’s cigarette lighter to reveal some tasty smelling nachos cooking up. George finally gets there and we’re all quiet while Palin tells us what John Cleese is really like. We smoke and eat nachos; life is good.
Got a dream rotation? Hit us up: email@example.com
What I was wearing in…
Our editorial team takes a look, for better or worse, at the outfits they wore in their travels down the years. Even if only for the briefest of moment of time, each of these outfits were at some point kind of cool…either that or they weren’t.