The more athletically-inclined readers may know that many of Grinnell's sports teams are known by names other than the quasi-colonialist "pioneers." The Purple Roos, the Black Sheep, the Mad Dogs; these multi-colored and intimidating animals strike fear in the hearts of Grinnell's foes. In hopes of joining these illustrious ranks, the softball team also recently adopted an alternative moniker. Mishearing "Pioneers," Captain Emily Stewart accidentally nicknamed us the "Pie Eaters."

While arguably not as terrifying as rabid geese or whatever the swimmers call themselves, it is certainly more apt. We ARE pie eaters. The softball team pretty much eats its weight in desserts after most home games. Compared to energy expended in games, the calories consumed are ... significant.

As a member of Grinnell's most likely team to get diabetes, I feel obligated to defend our gluttony in print. It turns out that when eating away a tough loss, low-calorie pudding just wouldn't do the trick. New research shows that for full-scale comfort, full-fat foods are the only way to go.

Experiments using mice have shown that when you are trying to trick yourself into eating fewer calories by snacking on baked chili cheese Fritos rather than the real thing, part of you remains less satisfied.

Even if you "can't believe it's not Fritos," your brain can.

Mice with normal taste buds experienced an increase in pleasure sensing dopamine levels when eating both the real sugar and Splenda. But even mice without taste receptors, (later referred to as "taste-challenged" mice) had increased dopamine levels when eating the real deal. This means that the pleasure you get from eating something deliciously calorie-filled isn't necessarily contingent on its taste.

So you and Sue-Bob could be sucking down a pail of lard, waitin' for the cows to come home, and your brain would be having just as much fun as if you were eating a steak with Fabio. Researchers are gobbling this up because it means that the mice's pleasure-sensors reacted to the caloric content of the food, not just its taste. They suspect that this may be the scourge of dieters everywhere. Your brain craves not just the taste of chocolate cake, but the calories themselves.

"Fake calories" from Splenda and the like don't seem to be able to fool the brain all that well.

They also don't have as much of an impact on insulin and other hormones that control when you feel full. This is why you feel suspiciously unsatisfied after a bag of baked chips from Outtakes.

Maybe this is a vestigial survival skill from caveman days, but it seems unnecessarily cruel on nature's part.

Now, I am ravenously hungry for junk food all the time. But there are those among us who find themselves especially so after cavorting with a crazy gal I'll call Mary Jane.

For these select few, my column offers (perhaps its first) bit of good news: although a smart dog won't do the trick, that desperate urge for a cheesy hot dog from Kum and Go can actually be suppressed by using ... more drugs!

Some hip researcher created Rimonabant, a medicine made specifically to block cannabinoid receptors, which are responsible for triggering the "munchies."

(Oh, but there's a catch: Rimonabant may cause depression and suicidal inclinations ... so maybe wait for the second generation of that one.)

So my advice for the week is this: Only eat high-calorie junk food.

Except if you're high. In which case either go for it, or take a gamble and use sketchy drugs to medicate your hunger away. I guess that's why I'm an athlete and not Dear Abby.