Alright, this is day whatever of listening to every Goober and Flea stream until my brain gets food poisoning.

Tonight we’re at the Gar-tudio.

Yelp has this place at like 1.6 stars, and honestly, that feels generous.

Walk in, and the first thing you notice is the fast-food wrappers, a plate of leftovers that have been staring at the ceiling for three days, and a jar labeled “co-panelists” that smells like it lost a fight with a dumpster.

Atmosphere? Business in the front, biohazard in the back.

Flea opens strong by asking the gawkers if they’ve seen Goober’s documentary.

Documentary? Buddy, that thing is a mockumentary with worse production value than a gas station surveillance tape. She then casually mentions the subscriber count is up. Cool. Congrats on the algorithm pity.

Legal segment drops next: Liarnutz’s partial motion to dismiss in the BK case.
Flea starts whining that the judge gave Germ 21 days to amend the complaint and, shocker, Germy actually did it.
Then she gets real excited: “It’s hilarious because I’m mentioned so many times.”

She’s a non-party, she reminds us, while simultaneously making sure the entire stream revolves around her. Classic non-party behavior. A non-party who desperately wants the spotlight, like a moth that paid for premium.

She follows it up with “they’re lying through their teeth,” which is rich coming from this particular table.

Someone brings up Liarnutz, claiming Flea is holding money. Flea snaps back faster than a rubber spoon in the mess hall: “That’s not true, and if you ask her she’ll say the same thing.”

Sure, Jan.

The two of them are the most reliable narrators since the guy who invented the honeycomb that used to be the size of a dinner plate.

Goober asks if the camera’s going on tonight. Flea cuts him off mid-sentence because her hair is up and she just got out of the shower. Promises they’ll do camera again soon because “everyone liked that.”

(Yeah. The highlight of my evening was definitely seeing the Flea in full damp-hair glory. 10/10 would not recommend unless you’re into crime-scene lighting.)

Then we get the cereal monologue. Goober is devastated that Honeycomb used to be massive and now it’s the size of a Cheerio. Long tangent about Pop Rocks and the Zots somebody sent that he still hasn’t tried.

While locked up, we learn he was surviving on daily Tylenol because of low blood sugar headaches and he “almost passed out”.

Flea immediately shuts him down: “You already told us that this afternoon.”

Nothing says supportive co-host like cutting off your partner’s near-death story like a wilted carrot top.

A warrior in chat says Honeycomb doesn’t taste the same. Goober starts agreeing. Flea proceeds to sing the entire Honeycomb theme song over him until he disappears. Is she jelly that he’s getting attention or is this just standard broadcast protocol? Hard to tell. Either way, it’s moldy-donut energy.

She then lists her own cereal rankings like she’s presenting at the Breakfast Oscars: Raisin Bran, Honey Nut Cheerios, and the classic Kellogg’s Pops. Triple crown of mediocrity.

(Side note: my sister used to eat Corn Pops, and we convinced her they were spider eggs. I still won’t touch them, as they do look like spider eggs, and some trauma is forever.)

gulp

Goober finally gets to the real content: jailhouse cuisine.

No utensils allowed in the cell, so you steal the rubber spoons from the mess hall.

Risky move.

One wrong spoon and you’re in solitary with nothing but your thoughts and a bag of uncooked ramen.

Then comes the detailed recipe for bag ramen because bowls are a privilege. Flea is absolutely ghasted with flabbers: “Oh no wayyyy” leaking out between the one tooth and the gums, pure theater.

But the main course is the Cuban community burrito situation, three cells down from the Goobs.

Everybody donates. Goober throws in three ramen bags, somebody brings pickles, somebody else brings BBQ chips. The Cuban guy has the tortilla wraps and a clean garbage bag courtesy of the COs.

Recipe (ancient Cuban secret, apparently):

Dump ten ramen bags into the hot-water garbage bag. Drain. Flatten the noodles on the bench like a sad pizza on top of tortillas. Crumble BBQ chips on top. Seasoning. Chopped pickles. Roll into burritos and pass them out.

Both of them lose it laughing at the Jailhouse Cooking Show. I’m sitting here thinking “bone appetite” while simultaneously never wanting to eat again.

The new Goober and Flea dance is… something. Entertaining in the same way watching two raccoons fight over a trash bag is entertaining. I’m intrigued. I’m also ready to move on with my life.
Final rating:

1.6 stars on Yelp feels accurate.

(Would have been higher if they had pizza.
Not mad at it. Just exhausted.)

‘Not Goonin’

Toodles Poodles ❤️
13:42/2:07:34

P.S. This review cost me $12.99.……………….for one person.