Tuesday, August 21, 2007
The battle of the bulge becomes my responsibility
I'm exceptionally harsh towards fat people, and it's not because I don't understand that they're people too, or that there are circumstances that led to them being fat, or whatever else. It's because MOST fat people could fix their situation by switching to Crystal Light and getting their fat asses off their couches on occasion, and I have no respect for people who seek pity and sympathy for being passive and weak. I'm a lazy, pizza-eating, slovenly couch potato, too, but I walk everywhere and I run to ensure that I can maintain that life and still be a reasonable weight. This isn't that hard to do; make a few simple changes in your diet and exercise habits, and get thin, because nobody wants to fuck a fat person (with the notable exception of BBW fetishists, but they are a minority).
I remember the one time I had sex with a fat person vividly. I had just graduated from high school, and my parents were out of town, so I had some people over. Among them was this one fat guy, who was sort-of friends with another guy I had known since first grade and who I was trying to bone (he and I did close the deal later, and wound up dating for the rest of the summer until the long-distance thing became too difficult once we went off to college on opposite coasts that fall). At this particular mini-party, the guy I wanted to hit was off in Oregon on vacation with his parents. His fat friend was there instead. Fat Friend had procured a large quantity of Rainier Ice to consume that night, and we all immediately proceeded to begin the drunkenness. Approximately two hours later, I was pleasantly sauced, and watching TV with Fat Friend while everyone else was doing who knows what in my backyard. Fat Friend put his hand in my crotch and the next thing I knew, we were making out. He seemed a lot thinner in my drunken haze, or at least he seemed more stocky than fat. Anyhow, somehow we wound up in my bedroom fucking. I remember that it was dusk outside, and the light coming in through the blinds was hard and gray, causing the room to be lit, but in a very dim, shadowy way. And I remember, as I sat astride him and rode his dick, watching his fat rolls jiggle in that light. Horror-struck, I thought to myself, "Oh my GOD. I'm fucking a fat guy!"
As soon as I had that monstrous epiphany, I jumped off his cock and made some lame excuse about how it wasn't right to fuck him because I'd gone to third base with his absent friend and wanted to get into a relationship with him (I told the absent friend later, when we were having the "relationship discussion" about whether we wanted to be a BF/GF couple unit, about boning Fat Friend, and he was okay with it.) Fat Friend was whining and cajoling me to continue, but I would have none of it. I dressed quickly, and escaped to join the rest of the party in the backyard. Fat Friend was distinctively unhappy with that turn of events, and wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night. In fact, I'm not sure I ever spoke to him again after that incident. I don't know if he knew the real reason I just could not bring myself to continue straddling him was due to my disgust at his quivering like a damn Jello mold rather than my desire to have a serious relationship with his friend. I figure that since Fat Friend never made any effort to diet or engage in any type of exercise activity other than frosh football in the time that I knew him, he was probably willfully ignorant of his repugnant body shape, and just wrote me off as a bitch who left him with blue balls. However, in light of some recent scientific findings, I'm feeling strangely--even, I daresay, sympathetic--about my policy towards people like Fat Friend. It turns out that sloth may not be the only factor in the biomorphogenesis of fat fucks: a virus could be involved.
WHAT?! A virus makes you fat?! Viruses do everything these days (not like I'm complaining, as clearly I'll always have some work to fall back on). Therefore, some post-doc in a lab at LSU decided to link a virus to fat cell growth. She took Adenovirus-36 (Ad36), a virus that usually causes the common cold (although not nearly as well as the hateful awesomeness known as rhinovirus, which is the undisputed badass of cold-causing), and exposed adult stem cells culled from discarded liposuction waste to it. The stem cells with virus differentiated into adipocytes (fat cells), while mock-treated control cells did not. I don't think this is a slam-dunk experiment, as I'd like to see her data that shows that she actually achieved a productive infection with Ad36. I'd also like to know whether in a natural infection, Ad36 could ever get anywhere near the proximity of subcutaneous adipose stem cells from its usual residence in the upper respiratory tract. Furthermore, since she got her cells originally from fat tissue, I wonder whether those stem cells would differentiate into adipocytes when given any inflammatory stimulus. Inflammation has been linked to obesity for a long time, to the point where some diet book my mom was reading described NF-kappa-B (an important transcription factor for inducing inflammatory and immune responses in many cell types) as "a rowdy frat boy" in the biological process of porking up. When retarded analogies about complex inflammatory gene expression programs are being made in mass-market self-help books, it's definitely indicative of scientists knowing about it for a long fucking time.
In spite of my questions concerning her experimental system and methods, I still think this study is fairly compelling, as it's fundamentally easy to understand and interpret the results (hence, the reason why most of the non-science media outlets are crowing about it) and it opens up a new, active area of investigation for understanding the influence of viruses on stem cell differentiation. It also makes me thankful that Fat Friend wore a condom. Adenoviruses don't cause any sort of sexually transmitted disease as far as I know, but that doesn't mean they can't be sexually transmitted nonetheless. I would be furious if Fat Friend had given me his infectious obesity along with a few minutes of unremarkable vaginal penetration.
Anyway, since I have crusaded so long and hard against the obesity epidemic that is sweeping the nation and depriving me of men who probably have handsome faces and appealing personalities who I would otherwise screw the bejesus out of, maybe I should consider a post-doc in the field of virus-induced obesity. I could fight viruses and fatness all at the same time. If I could only figure out a way to fight Beyonce with science, I'd have the perfect post-doc. I need to hurry up and give a mouse rhinovirus so that I can get to work on fighting the fat fucks.
I remember the one time I had sex with a fat person vividly. I had just graduated from high school, and my parents were out of town, so I had some people over. Among them was this one fat guy, who was sort-of friends with another guy I had known since first grade and who I was trying to bone (he and I did close the deal later, and wound up dating for the rest of the summer until the long-distance thing became too difficult once we went off to college on opposite coasts that fall). At this particular mini-party, the guy I wanted to hit was off in Oregon on vacation with his parents. His fat friend was there instead. Fat Friend had procured a large quantity of Rainier Ice to consume that night, and we all immediately proceeded to begin the drunkenness. Approximately two hours later, I was pleasantly sauced, and watching TV with Fat Friend while everyone else was doing who knows what in my backyard. Fat Friend put his hand in my crotch and the next thing I knew, we were making out. He seemed a lot thinner in my drunken haze, or at least he seemed more stocky than fat. Anyhow, somehow we wound up in my bedroom fucking. I remember that it was dusk outside, and the light coming in through the blinds was hard and gray, causing the room to be lit, but in a very dim, shadowy way. And I remember, as I sat astride him and rode his dick, watching his fat rolls jiggle in that light. Horror-struck, I thought to myself, "Oh my GOD. I'm fucking a fat guy!"
As soon as I had that monstrous epiphany, I jumped off his cock and made some lame excuse about how it wasn't right to fuck him because I'd gone to third base with his absent friend and wanted to get into a relationship with him (I told the absent friend later, when we were having the "relationship discussion" about whether we wanted to be a BF/GF couple unit, about boning Fat Friend, and he was okay with it.) Fat Friend was whining and cajoling me to continue, but I would have none of it. I dressed quickly, and escaped to join the rest of the party in the backyard. Fat Friend was distinctively unhappy with that turn of events, and wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night. In fact, I'm not sure I ever spoke to him again after that incident. I don't know if he knew the real reason I just could not bring myself to continue straddling him was due to my disgust at his quivering like a damn Jello mold rather than my desire to have a serious relationship with his friend. I figure that since Fat Friend never made any effort to diet or engage in any type of exercise activity other than frosh football in the time that I knew him, he was probably willfully ignorant of his repugnant body shape, and just wrote me off as a bitch who left him with blue balls. However, in light of some recent scientific findings, I'm feeling strangely--even, I daresay, sympathetic--about my policy towards people like Fat Friend. It turns out that sloth may not be the only factor in the biomorphogenesis of fat fucks: a virus could be involved.
WHAT?! A virus makes you fat?! Viruses do everything these days (not like I'm complaining, as clearly I'll always have some work to fall back on). Therefore, some post-doc in a lab at LSU decided to link a virus to fat cell growth. She took Adenovirus-36 (Ad36), a virus that usually causes the common cold (although not nearly as well as the hateful awesomeness known as rhinovirus, which is the undisputed badass of cold-causing), and exposed adult stem cells culled from discarded liposuction waste to it. The stem cells with virus differentiated into adipocytes (fat cells), while mock-treated control cells did not. I don't think this is a slam-dunk experiment, as I'd like to see her data that shows that she actually achieved a productive infection with Ad36. I'd also like to know whether in a natural infection, Ad36 could ever get anywhere near the proximity of subcutaneous adipose stem cells from its usual residence in the upper respiratory tract. Furthermore, since she got her cells originally from fat tissue, I wonder whether those stem cells would differentiate into adipocytes when given any inflammatory stimulus. Inflammation has been linked to obesity for a long time, to the point where some diet book my mom was reading described NF-kappa-B (an important transcription factor for inducing inflammatory and immune responses in many cell types) as "a rowdy frat boy" in the biological process of porking up. When retarded analogies about complex inflammatory gene expression programs are being made in mass-market self-help books, it's definitely indicative of scientists knowing about it for a long fucking time.
In spite of my questions concerning her experimental system and methods, I still think this study is fairly compelling, as it's fundamentally easy to understand and interpret the results (hence, the reason why most of the non-science media outlets are crowing about it) and it opens up a new, active area of investigation for understanding the influence of viruses on stem cell differentiation. It also makes me thankful that Fat Friend wore a condom. Adenoviruses don't cause any sort of sexually transmitted disease as far as I know, but that doesn't mean they can't be sexually transmitted nonetheless. I would be furious if Fat Friend had given me his infectious obesity along with a few minutes of unremarkable vaginal penetration.
Anyway, since I have crusaded so long and hard against the obesity epidemic that is sweeping the nation and depriving me of men who probably have handsome faces and appealing personalities who I would otherwise screw the bejesus out of, maybe I should consider a post-doc in the field of virus-induced obesity. I could fight viruses and fatness all at the same time. If I could only figure out a way to fight Beyonce with science, I'd have the perfect post-doc. I need to hurry up and give a mouse rhinovirus so that I can get to work on fighting the fat fucks.
Labels: epidemic geekery, fat fucks, Razzification, science, sex, viruses rule
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
