The moment has arrived. Weed is legal, going mainstream, shedding its countercultural associations. The tide has turned. Seth Rogen used to use his drug habit as a punchline, but now he’s leveraged it into an aspirational lifestyle brand. The time has come. It’s now socially acceptable to declare that Seth Rogen does it for you.
A picture of Seth rocking a stylish gray suit at a red carpet event circulates on your timeline. The comments of approval are the latest indication that the masses are ready to face the fact that Seth Rogen is not, in fact, sexually repulsive. His transformation in the popular imagination from schlubby manchild to desirable weed daddy is well underway.
Fishing for validation from strangers that it’s finally okay to publicly lust after Canada’s most famous stoner, you cautiously tweet, “Is Seth Rogen… hot?” Your tone implies surprise, epiphany, like you’ve only just discovered that Seth Rogen turns you on. This is a lie.
For years, you’ve known that you’d let Seth Rogen do dirty things to you, let him do you dirty.
You’ve harbored a secret fantasy that you could get him to cheat on his wife with you. You know this is delusional, but you’re a great piece of ass. And he’s Seth Rogen. Sure, you think he’s pretty attractive, but no one else seems to think this. He’d be flattered if you came onto him. He’d enjoy being objectified for once.
Except he’s a famous Hollywood star. Of course he won’t be desperately grateful for your attention. Sure, he’ll have sex with you. You are a great piece of ass, after all. But it won’t go the way you planned.
He’ll invite you up to a hotel room and roll you a joint. He’ll roll that joint with such elegant expertise that your knees will go weak. You’ll watch his nimble fingers as they work. Now you’re thinking of all the other ways he could use those fingers. He’ll hand you the joint, playfully meeting your gaze over the top of his glasses, as if to say, “You thought you had the power here?”
You’ll know then that it’s over for you. In a fit of hubris, you thought this was going to be a celebrity pity fuck of sorts, but you know now that you’ll be dreaming of this night with Seth Rogen for the rest of your life. He’s going to destroy you. And you won’t be able to tell anyone about it, because they’ll look at you like you’re crazy if you confess that Seth Rogen got you this worked up.
You and Seth will spend one, sexy night together, which is all you ever said you wanted. He’ll be generous with his drugs and generous with his time. He’ll make you laugh, cracking perfectly stupid jokes in between giving you mind-blowing orgasms. You will feel no sense of vindication over the fact that Seth Rogen is as good as you always suspected he would be. Because you thought you would be the one to nonchalantly leave him in the morning, but, instead, he will leave you. You’ll miss him immediately and feel stupid about it. You’ll savor the sting of having the tables turned on you.
Now that you’ve thought it through, your fantasy isn’t as subversively thrilling when everyone seems to agree that Seth Rogen could get it.
You spent all of these years feeling weird about your crush on Seth Rogen. Now everyone else thinks he’s attractive, too, and that is comforting to you. You do feel less alone. But now you just want to sleep with a hot celebrity, one of many. Your preferences are rendered vanilla by popular vote.
You think maybe you liked it better when wanting to bone Seth Rogen was your dirty little secret. Like having a drug dealer for your weed used to be.
Leah Carlson-Downie is a Seattle-based writer, librarian, and pop culture junkie. You can find her writing about film on her blog, Delayed Responses, or on Twitter @themingtacular. She also co-hosts an obsessive podcast about 21st-century vampire films called Fang Club (@fangclubpod on Twitter and Instagram).