Debra J. Saunders, not content to merely rest on her laurels, pens column so brain-numbingly stupid it's below even her ultra-low standards

Why do I do this to myself.  Why do I click on a Debra J. Saunders column knowing - KNOWING - that the stupid will come tumbling out like a ruptured dog shit bag.  Why.  Why.

Let's start, as we must, with a Debra J. Saunders patented NO RELATION TO THE TRUTH OR ANYTHING ACCURATE HEADLINE:

Obamacare czar: don’t get annual physical

The problem with this inanity, of course, is that there is no "Obamacare czar" and even if there was, it would not be Dr. Ezekiel J. Emanuel, who doesn't even work for the federal government.  At one point in time, he was a health care adviser to the president, but that doesn't make him an "Obamacare czar" any more than once flying coach on United makes Debra J. Saunders a fighter pilot.

Here's how this vapid piece of semi-literate garbage begins:

This opinion piece kills me. Ezekiel J. Emanuel, brother of Rahm, is a former senior health care adviser to President Obama. Now he writes a piece in The New York Times telling people to skip their annual physical. It says, “Most think of it as the human equivalent of a 15,000-mile checkup and fluid change, which can uncover hidden problems and ensure longer engine life.”

“There is only one problem: From a health perspective, the annual physical exam is basically worthless.”

Debra's belief that an op-ed can kill her is roughly consistent with her level of intellect and understanding of Emanuel's column.  Anyway, if you read the actual column, it's based on a study of 182,000 people over 9 years that found that annual checkups "are unlikely to be beneficial."

Big fucking deal.  So don't get an annual physical if you feel fine, right?  NOPE.  In the fevered imagination of Debra J. Saunders, this the #Benghazi of health care.

Remember the 2008 sales pitch about how universal health care would mean regular doctor visits that would keep people healthier and hence out of the pricey emergency room? That’s how Obamacare would cover more people without driving up costs — that was the con-job argument anyway. In that spirit, the Affordable Care Act considers the annual physical to be an “essential benefit” for which there is no co-payment.

Oh God, Debra J. Saunders.  I hope this is an act because if you're actually this stupid I fear for your safety when handling scissors or alighting upon a curb.  If there is something wrong with you, it is demonstrably true that a doctor's office visit is cheaper than going to the emergency room.  And perhaps some people - like those with chronic health problems - need annual physicals.  What the Emanuel op-ed says that if you're otherwise healthy, studies show that an annual physical is unlikely to confer health benefits.  Why is that so hard to understand?

And finally, Debra J. Saunders, Dr. Emanuel is not empowered to control how often anyone sees the doctor, so if you want to have 14 physicals a year, and you can find a doctor as equally stupid as you, go for it.

Let's make fun of some city flags!

Via Burrito Justice, I have learned that the North American Vexillogical Association, which is an organization devoted to flags and not to bothering people, as you might imagine, did a survey of city flags in 2004 and published the "winners."  (I'm not linking to the survey directly because when I clicked on it my computer's virus protection FREAKED OUT and so the NAVA may have some evil computer infiltrating motive I'm not aware of.  Anyway.)

Most of them are depressingly similar.  A couple of stars, some color swatches, maybe a banner, a dude on a horse or in a boat, let's call it a day.  Some are worth looking at, though.

#1 was Washington DC.

YAWN.  Whatever.  It's got some bars, it's got some stars, it's got one color, red.  It would make a passable airline logo.  Best city flag?  Not even

#2 was Chicago.  It's another bore, but at least it has some blue.  #3 was Denver.

Flag, or logo of the Mid-Mountain Mining and Materials Corp.? You decide.

St. Louis, at #5, I kinda like, because it looks like it was designed by a drunk:

WHOA DUDE.  STOP WIGGLING.  Gotta admit, it's got some flava.

Colorado Springs, at #19, is....interesting.

That is some straight-up Yellow King shit right there.  Or maybe they're going for an African mask-kinda vibe?

I like it!

#23 St. Petersburg FL features a logo from an Op shirt I had in the later 80s:

Anchorage (#29) is basically a beer company logo.

Birmingham (#39) straight-up looks like a lesser-known Communist country.  Maybe in Central America?

I bet you 90% of Birminghamians of whateverTF they are would flip their fucking lids if they knew this was their flag.

I like that Fort Worth (#67) isn't gonna keep anyone guessing.

Ugly and obvious, just like everything else in Texas!

Lincoln Nebraska (#88) would like you to know WE HAVE NO SHORTCOMING IN ANY DEPARTMENT!!!

And so forth.  Most of them are just boring, like I said.  Want to see a real shitshow, though?

Untington! Oh, shit, wait, is that thing an "H"?  Or what the fuck is that thing?  I guess it's an H.  Huntington will be geared for progress once it can figure out how to draw a fucking H.

Everyone knows that SF has the best flag.  It was #35.

*sniff*

The Bachelor: Farmer in the Gel

One circle of Hell probably looks like a featureless, sunbaked street in Los Angeles County where a semiautonomous organism waves a "I [heart" Chris" sign that someone has handed her because that's where we're starting out this season.  HI EVERYONE I'M WATCHING THE BACHELOR AGAIN because I have so much love to give. Apparently the first hour of the show is going to feature helicopterloads of prior contestants in some kind of faux Academy Awards red carpet show except with disease vectors instead of actors and lowered expectations instead of statuettes.

LET'S MEET OUR BACHELOR whom Chris Harrison gaggingly refers to as "Prince Farming" when Field of Screams or Plower Bouquet or Bodily Farm was available.  Chris the Farm Man is proud to "feed the world" which means putting high fructose corn syrup into M&Ms.  He wants what his parents and sisters have, which appears to be livestock with numbered tags in their ears.  Since he has exhausted the romantic possibilities in Arlington Iowa, he feels that "this is the best way to find love," which means he has never heard of FarmersOnly.com.  Chris dons a comically oversized motorcycle helmet and heads west to meet some emtpyheaded hair product support systems.

Back at the Oscars of Desperation, Chris Harrison is doing red carpet interviews with people I have only a vague memory of, while in the background cavort others we longed to forget like Droopy Face and Too Much Product and Who the Fuck Is She Again.

Let's bounce and meet some chicks.  Britt is a waitress in Hollywood and looks like an Olsen twin on a crash diet in a concentration camp.  There is a not zero chance she's done coke with James Woods.  Amanda is a ballet instructor with Keane painting eyes and a legitimately krazee vibe. Whitney is a "fertility nurse" who has found the perfect job for someone with the voice of a toddler.  She longs to be fertilized as well!  Kelsey is an exotic-looking widow in Austin whose husband's heart just stopped one day!  If he was walking in Austin anytime between May and September I can understand.

Cut to the Red Carpet where there is a Nixon-Frost length interview with Nikki about Juan Pablo and her life and anything else in the entire universe.  Gotta put something in between yogurt commercials, I guess.

After an hour of bullshit and the Nikki Documentary, we're finally ready to get started.  Following establishing shots of Chris trying on clothes for the first time ever and gettin his visage fixed with the pitcher machine, we're ready to start unloading the Cattle Cars.  Out pops Britt who latches onto C like he's a kidney donor and she can't process waste.  The Widow Kelsey claims to be "just a regular girl" but she's on this show so I'm not 100% sure about that. I was starting to think we were going to largely avoid Gimmick Intros when Human Tissue Salesgirl Reegan arrives with a biohazard container full of what she says is a human heart but is probably just human lungs or a spleen.  Lame.

THEN THERE'S TARA.  I kinda love Tara.  She hops out in a Sexy Farmgirl Halloween costume with cowboy boots and Daisy Dukes and proceeds straight to the bar and orders a Jameson.  SWOON.  Then for some reason she changes into a cocktail dress and gets out of the limo again? Not sure why, but we get to see her killer White Trash Tatt:

It's kind of hard to read but I think it says either "LOVE IS PEE * BRIDE OF RESIN" or "FINE BY ME * WHISKEY & GINGER."

More chicks.  Amanda takes her bipolar and goes flying by. Hairstylist Ashley says she's 24 but maybe means she's been a hairstylist for 24 years?  I know Kaitlyn With a K is probably getting all the press for telling C "You can plow the fuck out of my field any day" but that's the Space Pants of farmer pickup lines. So played.

The ladies are at Cuban Missile Crisis levels of concern because THERE ARE ONLY 15 OF THEM.  No one can process this world-shatteringly bizarre turn of events.  OH WAIT IT'S CATTLE CAR ROUND 2.  The First 15, now in various stages of intoxication, peer from behind the blinds as Wedding Cake Decorator and Tandra on the Motorcycle and Nicole Who Is Wearing a Pig Nose Not As a Statement on Society But For Other Inscrutable Reasons arrive.  Karas and Jades and various other dubiously-employed lifeforms emerge.  There are 30 women now!  Or as DiCaprio calls it, Tuesday.

FINALLY, we are at the Cocktail Party, i.e. Lord of the Flies Sponsored by Sephora.  C passes haplessly from Plus Size Model to Fourth Grade Teacher like a speed dating tetherball.  My two fave drunks are Ashley from Brooklyn (not that Brooklyn, though - no full sleeves or dumb hat or boring anecdote about her solo show) and of course Tara, who winningly says she "cares for that kid," hopefully meaning C and not an actual child because Tara should not involved in any child care scenario. Human Teeth Whitener Britt gets the First Impression Rose, raising the combined IQ of her and the plant to 80.  JUMP CUT back to the Live Show where Famous Loser Michelle Money meows "I heard she doesn't shower" about Britt. What the fuck Michelle.

ROSE CEREMONY.  God, they better not do these fucking 3 hour shows every time. I'm barely keeping track at this point.  Who's staying? Kaitlyn, Jade, Poor Man's Mischa Barton With Black Hair, The Widow Kelsey, Megan the Simple.  Meanwhile Drunk Tara is hanging on like Just Standing There is a roadside DUI test.  It's touch and go about whether she's gonna end up on the floor before this is over but YAY she gets a rose.  Sadly, Ashley from Brooklyn does not.  There are other roses given and withheld.

Meanwhile, Tara has confused her rose for Domino's and is going house on it.

My only wish for this season is a long run for Tara and a high enough Jameson budget to make it worthwhile.  *winks* Love ya girl.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: "I went to school for sports broadcast news but now I sell cadaver tissue."  Has there ever been a better metaphor for life?

If you read this blog for a certain reason

Watch this space tomorrow.

Exercise is getting weird

HOLY SHIT ARE YOU IN THE OFFICE TOO of course you are. Why would you be reading this on your own time? I can't believe we have to be at work.  Fuck.

Anyway, it's a brand new year and that means everyone has decided to exercise for the first time.  You could do normal things like that fake bicycle ride in the gym or running on a treadmill or lifting a heavy piece of furniture up and down but what's the fun in that?  There is no fun in that.

Based on my observations, people exercising outside have collectively decided to just go "FUCK IT I'M DOING WHAT I WANT FUCK YOU WORLD." This very morning, driving through San Francisco's Golden Gate Park on my way to drop off my offspring at daycare, I personally and with me own eyes observed the following:

- One gentleman walking quickly/almost jogging in the bike lane, swinging his right arm back and forth in a wide arc as if to ward off a cloud of invisible flies that were surrounding and troubling him, or maybe pretending his arm was a single windshield wiper and his body was a car driving through a terrific rainstorm

- A lady fast-walking and rhythmically tapping herself on the head with BOTH HANDS, elbows at ear level, as if she was playing a simple drumbeat on the bongo that is her very own skull

- An otherwise normal-appearing jogger with those neon shoes everyone likes now, also running in the bike lane at a very high rate of speed and through an intersection against a red light as a bus bore down on him, making me believe I was about to see what literally "getting hit by a bus" looks like and wondering (not totally unreasonably) if this was going to make me late for work because I would have to give a statement to investigators while they placed pieces of the jogger and his ugly shoes into a bag

Google Image Search result for "weird exercise." YEP YEP YEP.

In fact, the Running in the Street thing (which is actually mostly Running in the Bike Lane) has become so prevalent that I see it on the reg now.  What's up with that?  Isn't there a perfectly good sidewalk for that?  Is it revenge for bicyclists biking on the sidewalk?

One time I was driving AT NIGHT on a street with no bike lane and this girl was jogging in the street alongside all the parked cars WEARING BLACK. Either she had an exercise-related death wish or she was a terrible cat burglar making the world's worst escape from the scene of her latest cat burglary.  Either way, I can't imagine she's still alive.

My favorite tweets of 2014

Once is an incident; twice is a trend. Three times is a tradition.  Welcome to TK's Top Tweets of 2014.

2014 could've been better... pic.twitter.com/fOxJAFwDtg
— Will Menaker (@willmenaker) December 26, 2014

It's hard to say any year totally sucked when you have a kid because they light up your life and give you hope to carry on etc but 2014 was kind of a garbage year. Between everyone in our family dying including the fucking DOG and the world pretty much going to shit what with the police brutality and the Isis and what have you I'm not sad to see it go.

It's mind boggling that we trained a seal to kill Osama Bin Laden.
— Bert (@BertCarrillo) December 1, 2014

Nevertheless there were good parts and these tweets are part of the good parts.

Ma'am I'm doing everything I can pic.twitter.com/7xy0g9FWKg
— White V Black Twitta (@WhiteVsBlackTwt) November 18, 2014

"You promise you didn't get me bees again" [me from a distance] just open it
— Cat Damon (@CornOnTheGoblin) November 11, 2014

"Did we do good, Barry?" Real good Joe "Tell me bout congress Barry" Democrats far as the eye can see [Obama raises gun behind Biden's head]
— acetaminofun (@crylenol) November 5, 2014

Harold Reynolds doing World Series analysis... pic.twitter.com/1fk2SE8hOo
— Daren Willman (@darenw) October 27, 2014

JESUS: now, I'll turn water into wine GUY: misdirection. the wine's up his sleeve JESUS: don't—Luke, don't write that. this doesn't go in
— acetaminofun (@crylenol) October 3, 2014

TOGETHER WE CANT EVEN
— Dan Jackson (@DanJackson415) September 26, 2014

I actually went to look up what was happening with the Giants on Sept. 25 that made Dan tweet this, which perfectly summarized a season that was beyond frustrating right up until they won the fucking World Series. The Giants were playing the Padres and were up 6-0, then gave up 8 runs in the 6th and 7th innings. My forensic analysis of the timestamp on this tweet leads me to believe that's when Dan sent this out. As it happens, the Giants then came back, scored 3 runs in the bottom of the 7th, and clinched a playoff spot. Unbelievable.

Opening a new cocktail bar with @cdouble2073 called "the motherfuckin hood tho" serving only $14 drinks and lite bar fare. White folks only
— Richie Nakano (@linecook) August 22, 2014

who the fuck sac bunts in the little league world series SMH
— Lindsey Adler (@Lahlahlindsey) August 15, 2014

i'm beginning to regret my subscription to The Ominous Times pic.twitter.com/IHQ9JIaV9Q
— MarkusJ (@MarkusJ) August 7, 2014

How the hell we supposed to trust Atlanta to keep ebola quarantined when Gucci Mane released 8 mixtapes from jail?
— Larry Beyince (@DragonflyJonez) August 1, 2014

*Jaden Smith in school *raises hand Teacher: yes? Jaden: How Can Mirrors Be Real If- Teacher: Jaden I swear 2 god I will get u expelled
— ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (@YungOutline) June 16, 2014

REPORTER: Mr. President, what's your favorite Wu Tang album? OBAMA: What kind of question is -- [biden grabs podium] BIDEN: LIQUID SWORDS
— blupman (@blippoblappo) April 26, 2014

Every eHarmony ad looks like they do a good job of matching up 6's.
— Saucy Peeps (@saucypeeps) March 11, 2014

FYI those little crosses along the interstate aren't for squirrel crucifixions. I was wrong. The article I wrote about this was wrong.
— Jason Miller (@longwall26) March 4, 2014

Philz is playing Sugar Ray, which is having the same effect on customers as filling the place with bear spray.
— Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) February 28, 2014

@linecook Ramen is a flat circle, if you look from the top. We are all eating noodles in eternity forever. Yellow King add-on $4.
— Andrew Dalton (@dolftown) February 20, 2014

THE YEAR IS 2016. FACEBOOK DOWN FOR TWO YEARS NOW. AMERICA'S NEW MOMS ROAM THE STREETS. IS MY BABY PRETTY? THEY SAY. PLEASE LIKE MY BABY.
— Mark Agee (@MarkAgee) August 1, 2014

This is the worst analysis of anything ever written in history http://t.co/XrZ1KamPcV pic.twitter.com/WYUJ1hB5qh
— Julia Carrie Wong (@juliacarriew) August 23, 2014

If there was any better summary of San Francisco in 2014 than a techie's Mom writing to tell seniors and the disabled to get the fuck out of the way of her son's road to wealth, I can't imagine what it was.

Time to go, 2014. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

What are we all doing for New Year's Eve 20 Years Ago?

Welcome to another installment of It Was 20 Years Ago Today, in which we bore readers in a very specific way: by looking at old newspapers and finding out what was going on 20 years ago.

HEY HOW ABOUT NEW YEAR'S EVE 1994???!!??

I know it's not today, but close enough.  I have here ads I carefully copied from the December 28, 1994 SF Weekly.  We're all 20 years younger!  Let's go do something tonight, for Chrissakes.  The Internet hasn't really taken off yet so we can't stay home and post cat pictures on the Tumbeler.  Let's go have some FUN.

What's going on at Paradise Lounge?

The Loved Ones was local fave Bart Davenport's old band.  I don't think I ever saw them.  The Broun Fellinis might even still be around.

Over at Great American, we've got a "Cajun New Years Eve" f/ Beausoleil.  I don't know what the draw of a Cajun NYE in SF is but whatever.  Also look at the night before, with Cake last on the bill in tiny print. Sadly, they would go on to much bigger type.

The Cramps at the Fillmore.  I think the Public Enemy show a few nights earlier would be about 1000 times more interesting.

Finally, we have something called "Mr. Jenkins' Big Block Party" at Embarcadero Center.  I have no idea who Mr. Jenkins is, but the lineup is kind of incredible.

The Brothers Doobie and Neville on the main stage.  And look at the "Big Bang Alternative Stage," with Cracker and the Meat Puppets!  (Also Engine, who later became Engine 88 and put out a great album called "Clean Your Room."  Here's a video of them performing the song "Pelican" at the 1995 Haight Street Fair.  I was actually in the audience at this very performance, back when the idea of going to a street fair didn't give me full body wretching.  Plus I lived right off Haight at the time.  Here's a studio version of another song, "Des Moines," with much better sound.  Now I have gone down the Engine 88 rabbit hole.  Anyway.)

$65 for Mr. Jenkins' Big Block Party.  That seems a bit steep, Doobie Brothers or not.

When it's all said and done, I think I would have been just fine going to the late, great 20 Tank Brewery's NYE party, where $15 includes a reserved table and a round of beer & pizza.  20 Tank was great.