Nothing has devastated me more than finding out I was slowly killing my pancreas with the sweetest indulgence I’ve grown close to in recent years.
It’s something you eat if you’re a true Golden Girls fan (even though Bea Arthur actually hated it).
It’s a delicious experience that’s even more pleasurable than the company of a man and an evening of unbridled foot massages and house cleaning duties to which he volunteers in order to please me.
Cheesecake is wonderful in almost any flavor. And now it’s conspiring to kill me from the inside out.
I almost wish I could put the Pandora’s Box back on this knowledge and continue to sit in sugary bliss, but I know too much.
And now I must be destroyed.
Being the cheese gurgler that I am, I’m going to infect your brain cells with the same knowledge so that we can be miserable cheesecake lovers together.
It would seem that it takes FOUR pancreas (what is the plural- pancreai?) to digest the average American’s sugar consumption.
We have ONE.
One pancreas to digest all that sugar.
The average cheesecake slice (not MY slice size which can and has resembled a scooter tire) contains around fifty grams of sugar.
FIFTY GRAMS OF SUGAR!
That’s like choking down fifty tablespoons of sugar in one sitting.
AAARRGGGHHHHHH!!!! Is nothing sacred anymore!?!