Mondays were Strawberry Kiwi Kick; Thursdays, Berry Blue Blast; Fridays, undoubtedly Watermelon Meltdown. While other kids sat at lunch tables exchanging horoscopes and friendship bracelets, Joseph “Go-Gurt” Porter ’11 was cruising with a slightly chilled snack in his left hand and the weight of the world in his right.
Porter’s classmates didn’t understand his desire to tear open a long tube of delicious, semi-nutritious yogurt. They observed but failed to comprehend the creamy goodness that tickled his multitasking taste buds. Some potential “Go-gurters” struggled with the slippery plastic packaging, preferring to dig their nails into a fun-size tear-a-way of Pjur body glide, rather than wasting their time looking for alternative means of instant gratification. While others, like Go-Gurt aficionado Ellen DeGeneres, simply didn’t think yogurt was such a huge time commitment in the first place.
But JoGoGuPo, as he was affectionately called on Yoplait message boards (not to be confused with his Dragon Ball Z username “JoGoKuPo”), begged to differ. For YoCrunch required a dexterous eater, and Fruit-at-the-Bottom one with manly wrists capable of distributing both strawberry and banana throughout a rigid 6-ounce cup. Porter insisted that Go-Gurt would be respected for all of its clever incarnations — “Fizzix” carbonated Go-Gurt and Go-Gurt Smoothie included — once people put down their spoons and got over their Go-Gurt-phobias.
Well, it looks like the Go-Gurt lovers of the world are getting the last laugh. With a new season of “The Hills” underway, audiences have been glued to their television screens contemplating the pertinent questions asked by the show’s whimsical narrator, L.C. With a wealth of subtextual emotion and wisdom in every beat, a single viewing of the show cannot satisfy the analytic viewer. When Heidi tells Spencer to “Stop Saying That,” it is unclear whether or not she really wishes for him to get out of her life and stop lying about his sleazy passes on botoxed 22-year-old bartenders, or if she’s just humoring him with overly rigid signs of flattery.
Drama on “The Hills” runs so deep that MTV needs weekly interactive after-shows to sort out its complex subtleties. With such a huge need to rewind, reflect on and reconfigure all of the disastrous friendships and romances happenin’ in Los Angeles, it is impossible to let your TiVo remote drop from your dominant hand. And with an endless slew of reruns and spin-offs of “The Hills” (itself a spin-off), the possibility of a proper meal is completely out of the question. Thus, the only option is Go-Gurt.
In fact, I’m nearly positive that Heidi survives solely on Chill-Out Cherry Go-Gurt, as it’s the only food capable of squeezing into her tightly wrought face as she is time and time again stepped on by her useless boyfriend.
“L.C., I know he’s an asshole, but it’s fine. I’m chill. I got my Go-Gurt, girl. What do you say we make up and go talk shit about that bitch that was your rival back at Laguna? Is that passé?”
Alas, for Joseph Porter, a Southern California resident himself, it’s time to grab hold of those packets of Go-Gurt that he’s self-consciously horded in his mini-fridge/freezer combo. With a clenched fist and an outstretched arm, he’ll let that sleek Berry Blue Blast defrost alongside the Smuckers Uncrustables he’s been saving since some douchebag named Rory made fun of his inability to construct a proper PB&J at Sammy Smith’s Super Sweet 16. The “on-the-go snack” is back, bitches. Go-Gurt it!