Flights to the Gold Coast: $1600, campervan rental: $1300, Ticket to Splendour in the Grass: $784, getting other idiots to pay for your pinga pilgrimage: priceless.
Infuriatingly, the pair raised their goal and fly to the Gold Coast a few days earlier. They pose next to their “humble chariot” (the most expensive campervan available for hire) and blog about “understanding what it's like to not have a home, to be a rolling stone”. Ughhh.
They pass through a little town and Celeste jumps out and gets Ben to photograph her holding a “FREE HUGS” sign. This act of universal acceptance hits a snag when a crusty vagrant catches Celeste unaware and gives her a hobo-hug she'll never forget. Celeste flees into the van - universal love & acceptance is for attractive people for fuck's sake.
As they leave, Ben’s video camera is still rolling and captures Celeste hysterically screaming for homeless people to be culled as she rubs down her entire body in hand sanitiser, “line them up I’ll pull the first fucking trigger babes, sah gross, not cool”.
The self-professed “gypsies” arrive at Splendour in their get-ups. Celeste is dressed like Jenny from Forrest Gump if she had glittery braids and an Indian head dot. Whereas Ben simply looks like he’d surf your sister’s couch for a month and only pay her with a shit love song and a case of the incurable gonorrhoea superbug.
They upload a ton of photos of them waffling on about their “tribe” and within a couple of hours, they are in the depths of a particular smacky Ket & MD bender. They decide to test their “deep soulmate connection” with a bit of group sex.
Well, 30 minutes into the freak-fest, Ben has a few realisations. Firstly, due to the effects of his drugs he's softer than 3-ply and secondly, it’s not much fun to watch your misso get ploughed by 3 scene-kids while a hottie stares at your flaccid inadequacy with pity. The slow cooker of resentment begins simmering.
After 3 days, they are crashing faster than Elon's reputation and are decidedly less spiritual. They begin complaining about living in a van, which after the first night is stickier than a priest's robe during a Home Alone marathon. The mood is tense and Celeste drops a bombshell, “you really don’t understand my vibe babes”. Ooo, too soon.
In retaliation, Ben uploads the footage of Celeste calling for the Hobo-caust, which if we are being critical, is probably at odds with the new-age hippie, love everyone, raise awareness of the disadvantaged plate of shit she tried to feed you all before.
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