Gob Is My Co-Pilot
April 20th, 2008
Not G.O.B. as in Bluth, but rather gob as in stopper. Gobstoppers: I’ve been eating them recently. Too many, in fact. I average eight gobs in one sitting and I’ve had more than one gob-induced tummy ache.
If you haven’t had a gob before and you’re thinking of getting a box for the house, please don’t. They’re nothing like the pieces of heaven you could spend a lifetime sucking from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. Imagine a perfectly good Spree that’s been crushed into a powder and re-condensed into a small sphere, then coated by a stale Spree’s outer shell. That’s what a gobstopper is, and I’ve got a box of them on my coffee table.
Whereas some people might snack on popcorn or pretzels while watching TV, I eat gobstoppers and complain about how shitty they are. After five or so, I’ll stop and tell myself, “No more tonight. No more ever.” Then I’ll eat some more.
I don’t enjoy gobs; they’re just all I have in the apartment. If a hungry/thirsty guest were to visit, I could offer him/her a glass of ice water, a shot of guavaberry liquor, Prego marinara sauce, and some gobs. “Chill out, have a gob,” is what I’d say.
Once I finish the box (I’m on track to do so this Friday), I’m not sure if I’ll buy another one or not. While I’ve gotten used to settling into the couch and popping the vile balls into my mouth until I feel ill, I don’t think my teeth could take another gob bender. But at $1.19 a box, TV food has never been so cheap.
The green-shelled gob I’m eating right now is lime-flavored and not all that good. I bite into the core prematurely and chew and swallow it to make way for the next gob. Its shell is orange. While orange Starbursts are far and away the worst Starbursts, orange gobs may be the best gobs. Not too sour, and not even that orangey, the flavor is more reminiscent of the color orange than the fruit orange, if that makes any sense. Maybe you have to be a gobhead to know what I mean.
The next gob is red. I think red is supposed to be its own, indescribable flavor, like the white Airhead, because it tastes like no other food I’ve had before.
The package, not the flavors, is what really gets my blood boiling. Each gob has a white, powdery core, but the gobs pictured on the box of gobs (including the orange gob with a face) have multi-colored rings inside them, as if they were legitimate jawbreakers with cores of varying flavors. It’s like if the Whatchamacallit wrapper featured dudes eating Whatchamacallits while talking to girls.
I’m calling your bullshit, Nestlé, right here and now. And I’ll take action. The only way to stop me from mobilizing gobheads and launching a full-on boycott of all your products is by sending me a case (I assume there are cases?) of both regular and chewy gobstoppers.
After I finish the two cases, I’ll quit gobs. Really, I can quit at any time, no problem.
