Last Updated on December 15, 2025 by Michael
Your pancreas is plotting your demise. Not in a dramatic way. More like a passive-aggressive roommate who’s been putting up with your crap for too long and is now leaving Post-it notes on everything.
Morning Atrocities
1. That coffee order. Seventeen pumps of caramel. SEVENTEEN. At what point does coffee become a cry for help with caffeine notes?
2. Pop-Tarts for breakfast. Calling them “pastries” doesn’t make them French. It makes you delusional.
3. The way you’ve weaponized your toaster. Pizza, donuts, leftover Chinese food – that appliance has seen things.
4. 3 AM cereal murders. Standing in your underwear, going to town on Lucky Charms like they owe you money. Your pancreas hasn’t slept since 2019.
5. Orange juice by the gallon because “vitamin C.” That’s like saying vodka is healthy because potatoes are vegetables.
6. Maple syrup on eggs. This should be illegal in most states.
7. The emergency candy drawer that’s never actually been for emergencies unless “being awake” counts as an emergency.
Actually, let’s talk about that drawer for a second. Everyone knows about it. Your mom knows. Your dentist knows. The candy drawer knows it’s not really for emergencies. It’s for Tuesday. And Wednesday. And that weird hour between lunch and dinner when you’re not hungry but you’re not NOT hungry.
8. Brunch is just an excuse to drink before noon while eating enough carbs to fuel a marathon you’ll never run.
9. Cookie butter pretending to be peanut butter’s responsible cousin when it’s actually just spreadable cookies. You’re literally spreading cookies on things. Think about that.
10. Mini muffins for “portion control.” Then eating twelve. That’s not portion control, that’s just regular muffins with extra steps.
Liquid Disasters
11. Energy drinks. All of them. At once. Your heart sounds like a drum solo from a band that’s really angry at their parents.
12. That Starbucks order that sounds like you’re summoning something. The barista needs a nap after making it. Your pancreas needs witness protection.
13. Frappuccinos. Just admit you’re drinking a milkshake at 7 AM and move on with your life.
14. Sports drinks when the most athletic thing you’ve done this week is reach for the remote without getting up.
15. Juice cleanses. Your body doesn’t need to detox from toxins. It needs to detox from you.
16. Kombucha that tastes like someone fermented gym socks but costs $8 because wellness.
17. Sweet tea that’s basically sugar having an identity crisis.
18. That time you mixed Red Bull with Monster. The FDA is still studying the aftermath.
19. Coffee creamer ratios that would make a mathematician weep. It’s beige. Your coffee is beige.
20. Soda for breakfast. While googling “why am I tired all the time.” The cognitive dissonance is real.
After Dark Food Crimes
So here’s what happens after 10 PM in your kitchen: You transform. You become something else. Something that eats cheese by the handful and considers “fork” a serving size.
21. The freezer spoon. It lives there now. It has developed its own ecosystem. Scientists are interested.
22. Tomorrow’s breakfast cake that mysteriously vanishes at 11:47 PM in what you call “the evaporation incident.”
23. Shredded cheese consumption that would concern a lactose tolerant person.
24. Dipping cookies in Nutella because apparently cookies weren’t committing hard enough to the diabetes thing.
25. Cold pizza with ranch. This. This right here is why we can’t have nice things.
26. Making a “small snack” that requires multiple plates and looks like you’re hosting a party for one.
27. Your ability to hear a chip bag from three rooms away. It’s like sonar but sad.
28. Trail mix genocide where only the raisins survive.
29. Cookie dough as a food group. It’s not. Stop trying to make it happen.
30. What you call a “variety bowl” but is actually just every chip in your house having a meeting about your poor life choices.
Deep-Fried Felonies
31. Deep-fried Oreos. Because regular Oreos weren’t trying hard enough apparently.
32. Deep-fried butter. BUTTER. Someone battered and fried butter and you paid money for it. Your pancreas is screenshotting this for the divorce lawyer.
33. Deep-fried ice cream, which shouldn’t exist according to physics but here we are.
34. Bacon-wrapped candy bars dipped in chocolate because at this point why not just eat insulin directly?
35. Deep-fried pizza. With ranch. Your ancestors are weeping.
Listen, state fairs were a mistake. They gave humanity too much power. “What if we deep-fried [insert literally anything]?” should not be a business model, yet here you are, first in line.
36. “Bacon makes everything better” – no, Kevin, it doesn’t. Bacon on cinnamon rolls is how you know God has abandoned us.
37. Your Google search history includes “is it safe to deep fry water” and honestly your FBI agent deserves a raise.
The Exercise Delusion
38. Walking to the car is not cardio.
39. Aggressive typing is not HIIT.
40. Thinking about the gym doesn’t count as a workout.
You bought a Fitbit once. It quit. Electronics can’t quit but yours found a way.
41. That one run in 2015. You were late for something. You still missed it.
42. Carrying all the groceries in one trip because you’re stubborn, not strong.
43. Standing during commercials (to get snacks) is not interval training.
44. Stress doesn’t burn calories no matter how much you want it to.
45. Those three sit-ups from 2019. The cheesecake immediately after. Your pancreas has the receipts.
Portion Distortion
46. You don’t understand serving sizes. You think they’re suggestions. Challenges, even.
47. Mixing bowls aren’t cereal bowls but here we are.
48. “Handful” doesn’t mean “as much as you can carry in two hands while walking from the kitchen.”
49. Your slice of cake needs its own ZIP code.
50. Family size = personal size in your universe. Family of what? Family of you?
The thing about portions is they’re meant for humans. Regular humans. Not whatever you’ve become. You eat appetizers before your appetizers. You’ve invented meals that don’t exist in any culture. Second breakfast was just the beginning – now there’s pre-lunch, second lunch, pre-dinner snack, dinner, second dinner, dessert, second dessert, and that thing at 2 AM that doesn’t have a name because naming it would make it real and you’re not ready for that conversation.
51-55. Actually every portion-related crime can be summarized as: You eat like you’re afraid food is being discontinued.
Sugar Denial
56. “Natural sugar is different!” No. Your pancreas doesn’t care if that sugar went to yoga class.
57. Honey by the spoonful isn’t medicine. It’s just bear food you’re stealing.
58. Dark chocolate is healthy the way swimming is healthy – not when you’re drowning in it.
59. Your smoothie has more calories than a Thanksgiving dinner but okay sure the tablespoon of spinach makes it healthy.
60. Agave is sugar that went to private school. Still sugar.
61. You put sugar on things that already have sugar. It’s sugar inception.
62. Fruit snacks are just gummy bears with better PR.
63. Your ketchup consumption is being studied by scientists.
64. “Just this once” – your catchphrase, said 47 times daily.
65. Sugar gives you energy the way arson gives you warmth. Technically true but missing the point entirely.
Restaurant Terrorism
You’re not a customer. You’re an incident restaurants prepare for.
66. Breadsticks aren’t supposed to be competitive eating but you’ve made them that way.
67. “Extra sauce” in your language means “drowning.”
68. Reading the dessert menu first to “save room.” The room was always for dessert. The meal is just foreplay.
69. Ranch isn’t a condiment for you. It’s a lifestyle. A problematic lifestyle.
70. All-you-can-eat buffets have your photo in the office labeled “Code Red.”
71. You’ve turned salad into a vehicle for ranch soup with crouton boats.
72. Unlimited breadsticks at Olive Garden wasn’t a challenge but you made it one. You won. They lost money.
73. “Can I just try a bite?” means you’re about to eat half of everyone’s meal.
74. Dessert isn’t a question. It’s a given. The question is how many.
75. Your server brings the dessert menu automatically. With extra spoons. They’ve stopped fighting it.
Emotional Eating Olympics
76. Your feelings have a direct hotline to your stomach and the message is always “FEED ME.”
77-85. Happy? Cake. Sad? Cake. Angry? Aggressive cake. Bored? Exploratory cake. Anxious? Nervous cake. Tired? Energy cake. Awake? Consciousness cake. Existing? Existence cake.
You don’t eat your feelings. You give them a tasting menu with wine pairings and a cheese course.
Holiday Excuses
86. Halloween candy in July is “planning ahead” apparently.
87. Thanksgiving is just one meal but you train for it year-round.
88. Valentine’s chocolate on sale February 15th. You’re not saving money. You’re hoarding.
89. St. Patrick’s Day means green food coloring makes everything Irish and therefore cultural.
90. Easter candy in January because time is a construct.
91. Summer BBQ season is January through December in your world.
92. Buying Halloween candy in August “for trick-or-treaters.” You live on the 10th floor. Of a building with key card access. No children are coming.
93. Christmas cookies in October are “getting in the spirit.”
94. New Year’s resolutions last exactly seven minutes. The time it takes to remember you have leftover pie.
95. Every holiday is eating season. Every season is eating season. Existence is eating season.
The Final Countdown
96. Googling “how much sugar is too much” while eating frosting from the jar with a ladle.
97. Your idea of moderation is switching from a large to two mediums.
98. You’ve created food combinations that violate the Geneva Convention. Hot Cheetos in ice cream should be a war crime.
99. Dessert before, during, and after dinner. The holy trinity of pancreatic suffering.
100. You’re eating something right now. Don’t lie. Your hand is in something crunchy.
101. This entire list is your biography and you’re already planning what to eat next. Your pancreas is on LinkedIn. It’s networking. It wants out.
Your Pancreas Has Some Final Words
Here’s the thing nobody talks about: Your pancreas can’t actually leave. It’s tried. God knows it’s tried. It’s written resignation letters, looked into organ exchange programs, even considered faking its own death.
But it’s stuck with you.
Through the gas station sushi incident (we don’t talk about the gas station sushi incident). Through the “cheese is a meal” phase. Through that dark period where you thought Mountain Dew was a breakfast beverage.
Your vegetable drawer is where vegetables go to die. Those carrots from February have evolved. They have consciousness. They’re writing their memoirs.
You know what your pancreas dreams about? A single vegetable. Not fried. Not covered in cheese. Not dipped in ranch. Just… a vegetable. Existing. Being eaten. It’s basically pancreatic erotica at this point.
But here’s the beautiful, terrible truth: Your pancreas is ride or die. Mostly die at this rate, but still. It shows up every day, processes your chaos, manages your “snacks” that could feed villages, deals with your “cheat day” that started in 2009 and never ended.
It’ll be there at 3 AM when you’re standing in front of the fridge, eating shredded cheese with your hands like some kind of dairy goblin.
Because that’s love.
Toxic, lactose-heavy, insulin-resistant love.
Your pancreas deserves better. You both know you won’t give it better.
Now if you’ll excuse your pancreas, it needs to update its resume. Again.
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