Skin tags can be an early outward sign of a metabolic problem. When people with skin tags were checked for diabetes, about a quarter already had it, and some of them hadn't been diagnosed yet. I think the link is insulin. High insulin pushes skin cells to grow and divide, and that's why skin tags tend to show up on the neck, armpits and groin, the same places where the darker skin patches from high insulin appear. If a person has several skin tags, I'd ask for a fasting insulin test and not just a glucose check.

Texas A&M researchers ran crossover trials in men. They ate ground beef from grass-finished cattle for five weeks. Then they ate ground beef from grain-finished cattle for five weeks. Neither version raised LDL cholesterol. Grain-finished beef raised HDL and lowered insulin. Grass-finished beef did not produce the same HDL increase. The fat profile differed. The health markers in living humans did not match the simple story that one is clearly superior.

My wife has a PhD-level ability to run a household, manage everyone's schedules, remember every birthday in both our families, and serve in the community and church. But she cannot, under any circumstances, make her morning supplement drink. So every morning, I make it for her. I scoop creatine, amino acids, and more into a glass of water. I'm starting to think she's pretending. Am I being played? Asking for myself. Married folks, what's the thing your spouse "can't" do?

Tim Russert collapsed at his desk in June 2008. He was fifty-eight. He had known coronary disease. His doctor had him on a statin and blood-pressure medication. He exercised on a bike most days. Weeks earlier he had passed a stress test at a high workload with no symptoms. His LDL cholesterol, on the drug, sat at 68. That was the number his doctors considered controlled. He was also significantly overweight. His waist was large. His triglycerides were high. His HDL had spent years in the twenties and had only reached 37. The combination was noted. The waist was the one his internist later called the single strongest predictor of mortality. The autopsy showed an enlarged heart and a fresh clot in the left anterior descending artery. A plaque had ruptured. The numbers on the paper had been acceptable. The plaque was not. He was doing what the guidelines asked. The plaque still ruptured.

Getting old is inevitable Acting old is a choice

The heart and hustle of Laney Choboy ❤️ @HuskerVB x @B1GVolleyball

Interviewed a woman whose husband has type 1 diabetes His endocrinologist recommended a fairly high amount of carbohydrates She asked what was the purpose of the higher carbohydrates He replied that he needed the carbs to cover the insulin he had to take as a type 1 diabetic! I wish this was satire!

Some of the nastiest people on Facebook are the ones telling me to stop eating animals because we need more compassion in the world. 😂 I’ve got absolutely nothing against vegans. Seriously. If someone doesn’t want to eat meat, don’t eat it. I’m not going to turn up at their house waving a pork chop through the letterbox. But bloody hell, some of the comments I get. And I’ve started to notice a pattern. It’s usually someone with a flower as their profile picture or one of those weird AI photos of a woman sitting in a forest surrounded by butterflies. You look at their bio and it’s all about kindness, peace, love and compassion for every living being on the planet. Then you read what they’ve written underneath my photo of a steak. Apparently I’m a disgusting murderer, a vile human being, a selfish bitch and I deserve to die from heart disease. I thought we were supposed to be spreading peace and love? And there’s always somebody who wants to explain what the cow was feeling. Apparently the cow was terrified, knew exactly what was happening, and somehow transferred all its fear and suffering into my dinner. I’ve even been told that eating meat lowers my vibration. My vibration? I’m eating a ribeye, not operating a washing machine. Then somebody else arrives to explain that meat is rotting inside me, infecting my DNA and filling my body with parasites that will eventually take control of my brain. If a parasite has taken over my brain, it’s doing a really good job of remembering where I left my car keys. Someone will tell me humans are herbivores, that our bodies are alkaline, that cancer feeds on acid, and that meat is acidic. When I ask where they’re getting this from, I’m told to Google it myself. Have you seen the documentary’s and what happens in slaughterhouses? Yes, I’ve watched documentaries. I’ve read books. I’ve spent years looking into nutrition. I’m 58 years old. I haven’t accidentally wandered into the meat aisle because the meat industry is brainwashing me. And for some reason, they seem genuinely offended when I tell them I’m happy eating the way I do. It’s like they can’t quite believe someone has heard the vegan argument and still gone home and cooked a steak. Eating meat is pure evil. I surprised they don’t call the police. She’s been encouraging people to eat lamb chops. Any previous offences? She posted a picture of bacon in June. Well, we’d better get her off the streets. And I don’t understand why some people feel the need to follow me when they clearly can’t stand anything I post. Imagine me spending every morning scrolling through vegan groups looking for pictures of lentil soup to get angry about. I’ve got better things to do. And with around 90% of people eat meat that’s an awful lot of people to be angry with. That can’t be doing their stress levels much good. Anger is not a good vibration state to be in. They spend their mornings preaching peace and compassion,their afternoons calling strangers murderers and evenings getting worked up because somebody in Yorkshire had a bacon sandwich. I know there are plenty of perfectly lovely vegans who just get on with their lives. I’ve got no argument with them. But there’s a particular type who seems to spend an extraordinary amount of time telling strangers they’re cruel, hateful and morally inferior, usually while typing some of the nastiest abuse you’ll ever read. All from an account with a pink flower as its profile picture and a little heart next to the words be kind. I genuinely don’t care what anybody chooses to eat.

Maggie the Rancher just flexed on every diet guru telling you meat will kill you. At 85 years old, Maggie White is still working 14-hour days on her Alberta cattle ranch — often in sub-zero temperatures — and she looks like she could outwork half the people half her age. She’s been a lifelong carnivore for more than 65 years. Meat and water. That’s it. No kale. No seed oils. No “balanced plate” lectures from people who’ve never castrated a bull in a blizzard. Born in 1941, she left veterinary school, moved west, and built a life raising cattle. While the rest of the world was being told red meat causes heart disease and aging, Maggie just kept eating the food that made sense to her body and kept working the land. She still runs her herd, still does the physical work, and still looks decades younger than her actual age. When most people her age are managing pill organizers, she’s managing cattle. This isn’t theory. This is a woman who dropped the modern food guidelines before most of them existed and never looked back. Hard physical work + ancestral food = function that refuses to quit. She doesn’t need a study to tell her what she can already feel in her arms, her joints, and her ability to still get the job done every single day. The same institutions that spent decades warning us away from meat now have to explain people like Maggie. The ones who ignored the advice, ate the animals they raised, and stayed strong while everyone else got softer, sicker, and more medicated. Ranchers like her have been living the experiment the rest of us are only now catching up to. Maggie doesn’t flex for likes. She flexes because the work still needs doing and her body still answers the call. That’s the real flex — not looking young for your age, but remaining capable of the life you actually want to live. Eat the meat. Do the work. Stay dangerous. 🥩

Have to make light of the situation every now and then.