I went to LA this fall to profile Snoop Lion (formerly Snoop Dogg, formerly Snoop Doggy Dogg) for GQ. You can read the whole story right here. Suffice it to say, it's extremely weed-heavy. In fact, I dare say that Snoop deserves the honorific "President of Weed." I don't know who else could challenge him for it. Willie Nelson, maybe? They should make President of Weed an official title and pass it down through generations.
Anyway, GQ is also gonna post outtakes from the article that include Snoop talking about Muhammad Ali, quitting weed, smoking weed after quitting weed, and much more. So we thought we'd post a few of those snippets here as a little preview. Spark up, folks.
Drew Magary writes for Deadspin and Gawker. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at email@example.com.
• Snoop on his friendship with Paris Hilton: "We understand each other. Like, certain people in the industry become friends; they're from two different parts of the world, but they end up being the same kind of people. Like, I really understand Paris, you know what I'm saying? Like, for real. Like, a real friend. If I went to school with them, she'd probably have been doing my homework and all kind of shit; we'd have been friends, real, hanging tough. Like, real friends. Because I get her." Feel free to let your head explode now.
• In the new Snoop documentary Reincarnated, Snoop's daughter Cori says that Snoop used to come home angry every day. I asked him why she said that. He responded: "Because fuck it: I've been working all day. What do a man do when he come home? He come home and he frustrated: Is this shit cooked? What's happening? So it was more or less along those lines, but it was no communication; I didn't have no communication at my house. ... So I was coming home frustrated at life, that I have to do so much work. I thought when you make it, you're supposed to be successful and spend time with your family. They didn't tell you when you make it, you gotta keep making it."
• In the article, I went with Snoop to his favorite medical marijuana dispensary to buy weed. Seeing the whole medical marijuana enterprise up close and in person makes you realize just how stupid current weed laws are. I understand WHY the pro-marijuana lobby pushed so hard for the legalization of medical marijuana. It's a baby step on the way to actual legalization (which has come to fruition in Washington and Colorado). But the fact that this middle step was required is infuriating. Medical weed is an industry built on winks and nods. We all have to sit here and pretend like we need it for our bad back or for some other ailment when all we wanna do is get high ... and there's NOTHING wrong with just wanting to get high! The government has essentially forced pot enthusiasts to engage in widespread bullshittery just to get their hands on an eighth. It's stupid. Just make it legal so that Dr. Dina can go about her business in peace and quiet.
• I can't speak for many cancer patients and chronic pain sufferers who say weed helps them, but I can tell you my own attempt to use weed to help my chronic sciatica was an abysmal failure. Oh, I wanted it to work. Believe me. Nothing excited me more than the idea of curing my horrific nerve pain with getting high. But I didn't even get a placebo effect. All the weed did was make it feel like my pain lasted longer. It was awful.
• There was a craft service table right outside the secondary pool house, and one of the caterers—a dude in his 20s straight out of Party Down—walked up to me and asked about the smell coming from the pool house.
HIM: Is Snoop in there?
ME: Yeah, he just arrived.
HIM: Is he smoking up?
HIM: Oh man, that smells good.
ME: You're telling me.
HIM: I can't stand it. God, that smells amazing. SNOOP IS IN THERE! Did you get to smoke with him?
ME: I did. Yesterday.
HIM: Oh wow, Drew. Drew, you're killing me, man! I WANNA SMOKE UP SO BADLY.
Then he bounced up and down and bit his hand. That guy deserved all the weed on Earth.
• Before I left LA on the redeye, I ate an early dinner at a restaurant that had a strict "No substitutions" policy. Restaurants are like little dictatorships now. A lot of new ones don't even offer you a menu. Anyway, I checked out the menu and half the shit had fucking mayo on it. And I politely asked the waiter, "Are you sure I can't get this shit without mayo?" and he sternly shook his head. I don't know when mayo became so huge among hipster chefs, but FUCK YOU if you won't let me hold the mayo. They make you feel like a cock just for asking. These hipster mayo dictators must be stopped. They're poisoning America.
The Lion Smokes Tonight [GQ; photo by Peggy Sirota/GQ]