It’s a great time for me and my brethren fat cells. After millennia of toeing the line and giving up our stores whenever the muscles and nerves called on us, we’re now taking over. You don’t have to take my word for it. You can see it on the streets every day. More than 35 percent of adult Americans are obese. Not just overweight—obese. Cardiovascular disease? Type 2 diabetes? Cancer? Not my problem. I’m livin’ large.
By 11 a.m.,The Body’s starving. That muffin he had for breakfast provided plenty of calories, but they don’t satisfy him the way they used to. See, it’s my job to send a hormone signal—called leptin—to the brain so it makes The Body feel full. It used to work like a charm. But these days, I pump leptin like it’s a Middle Eastern oil well, and it just floats around in the bloodstream, aimless. With all that excess insulin swirling around to help The Body sop up his extra sugar intake, the brain doesn’t receive my usual leptin signal and issue the “you’re stuffed, stop eating” message. So he’s more apt to feel hungry soon after he finishes eating.
Life is sweet—saccharine, really. But it wasn’t always. I remember 40 years ago (The Body was barely a teenager) when I was born along with many of my fatty friends (puberty, the school nurse called it, which is when most adult fat cells should finish forming). I’d wait all day for some spare fatty acids I could store. Back then, most of the nutrition got used up. We fat cells would swell slightly, then shrink again. Those were lean times.
But I’m not going anywhere. I mean that literally. Fat cells never disappear. We’re virtually indestructible. The Body can deprive me of the greasy good stuff, and I’ll wither—but when he hits the drive-through again, I’ll rebound faster than he can say “Supersize me!” In a normal body, fat cells are mostly done forming after puberty. But if you’re obese, your fat cells plump up so much that new ones can be created. And lately, my neighborhood’s been getting a little crowded. Every time a fellow fat cell fills up and hits its maximum storage capacity, a new fat cell pops up next door. I’ve heard that a normal body has around 40 billion fat cells, but The Body rolls deep—in here, there are 80 billion just like me!
I’m pretty lucky. Back when The Body went off to college, he developed a soda habit. At almost every lunch, he’d knock one back. It was a special treat, and I’d snag a few fat droplets from the liver each time and store them up. He liked the caffeine, too, the pep it gave him in the afternoon. Soon enough, after The Body graduated and found a job, he needed another can of soda just to push through the midafternoon slump. That was the start of my glory years.
Just found the worst page in the entire dictionary. What I saw was disgraceful, disgusting, dishonest, and disingenuous.
Client: We need you to log in to the YouTube and make all our company videos viral.
My cat just walked up to the paper shredder and said, “Teach me everything you know.”
“Just because you can’t dance doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dance.” —Alcohol
@yoyoha (Josh Hara)
My parents didn’t want to move to Florida, but they turned 60 and that’s the law.
Q: What do you call an Amish guy with his hand in a horse’s mouth?
A: A mechanic.