Public relations is a field populated by an overabundance of liars and morons. (Apologies to the honest, mentally facile minority.) Deadspin used to run a feature called PR Dummies, in which it urged that various PR people be fired, for being dumb. (Generally expressed through dumb press releases.) Our new editor, wistful for this feature, is reviving it here, now that he's out of the sports ghetto and into "the big leagues" of famous blogs. Without further ado: PR Dummies, of the past... day or so.

Tonight NBC premiered a new sitcom, Are You There, Chelsea wherein Laura Prepon (of That 70's Show) plays Chelsea Handler and Chelsea Handler plays her own older sister. The show is based on one of Handler's memoirs, Are You There Vodka, It's Me Chelsea and even though NBC decided to strike the vodka mention in the title, they left in plenty of alcohol-related sentiment. While it is certainly not as gratuitously offensive and terrible as Work It, it has about the same number of jokes. Here is the show boiled down to its essence.

Stephen Colbert just isn't in love with the idea of Mitt Romney becoming President of the United States, which his victories in Iowa and New Hampshire obviously foreshadow. But, that doesn't mean Colbert can't get used to the idea. When Stephen and Andy hash it all out over cosmos, Stephen learns that, sooner or later, everyone has to settle.

On tonight's Daily Show, Jon Stewart gave us his thoughts on the results of the New Hampshire primary. He took a swipe at Mitt Romney's victory speech and the results spin by MSNBC's Lawrence O'Donnell. And Stewart had time for a couple of shots at Jon Huntsman and the victory speech that accompanied his third place finish. Get the jokes in now, Jon, who knows how much longer you'll have Huntsman to kick around.

Had a bad hump day? Well, you can still have a fun hump night! All you have to do join us in the comments as we live blog Top Chef! Tonight's episode features "restaurant wars"—and what, besides actual humping, could be more fun than that?

Long story short, British artist Damien Hirst has been doing these "spot paintings" for a while—they are, literally, paintings of spots; also, technically they are "done" by his assistants—and now he's retrieved them all from collectors and distributed them among 11 Gagosian Galleries in eight countries, and is offering a free art to anyone who goes and sees every single spot painting. In all eight countries. So this is officially a "thing," because it is [whatever word adequately communicates an aggravated eye roll], and since we have nothing of value to say about it really, we will defer to Sister Wendy's spiritual successor Hennessy Youngman, who previously taught us so much about poststructuralism and relational aesthetics on his wonderful show Art Thoughtz.

Roxy Music pioneer and all around awesome guy Bryan Ferry got married last week to the young and beautiful Amanda Sheppard. There's nothing odd about a 66-year-old rock star marrying someone 37 years younger than him. What's crazy is that they met when Sheppard dated one of Ferry's sons. Ew.

The Marine Corps is looking into "the origins of a video on the Internet," shown here, in which four Marines appear to be laughing and peeing on Taliban corpses. (Graphic footage warning.)

Tonight, after a long day of work and a glass of pinot (or three) you might think to yourself, "Gee, maybe I should watch the People's Choice Awards on CBS." That would be a very stupid idea.

Have you been cracking wise about our cherished field of Republican presidential candidates? Perhaps calling them "assholes" when they do and say horrible things? Let's grow up already. Because stilted CNN misery bot Wolf Blitzer will surely put us in detention if this goes on much longer.

Outstanding news, terrified Americans who watch too many fearmongering cable news crime stories: for the first time in nearly 50 years, homicide is not one of the top 15 causes of death in America. First a black president, and now this! Why, it's damn near impossible to get anyone to kill you these days. America is a safety festival, and everyone under the age of 75 is invited.

But soft! What light through yonder White House window breaks? It is the Oval Office, and Brangelina is meeting with President Obama, New York Times photographer Doug Mills tweets. This rare alignment of stars can only mean one thing: Tense negotiations between the American government and NAFTA, the Notables Adopting Foreign Toddlers Association. For all the babies in the Mariana Islands, Brad Pitt will solve the recession by gazing deeply into its eyes and whispering something sexy.

Guys: Mayor Bloomberg does not want to take away your booze. Yes, the Health Department is considering a proposal to "curb excessive drinking" in New York City. (For this, the Post calls him a "party pooper," Animal NY calls him a hypocrite, and Gothamist calls him Nanny Bloomberg.") Yes, he thinks you probably drink too much. (To be fair: you do.) Yes, he's a sucky mayor. But he's not really doing anything here except that will make your life harder, unless you are an asshole (or, to be fair, in the employ of the booze business). Let's be clear about what the proposals actually are, according to the Post:

This is simply no way to address New Hampshire Republican Party Chairman Wayne MacDonald on his big day. He was not amused. Perhaps it was another sabotage from this notorious CSPAN prank caller? [Fishbowl DC via Raw Story]

The internet booming with all of these people doing riffs on the Shit Girls Say video that went viral. I thought long and hard about some real advice for all of you out there thinking about making one to add to the conversation.

Everybody is talking about Tim Tebow. Except for you. Who is Tim Tebow? you're asking yourself, after spending 10 minutes nodding silently while coworkers discussed his game this weekend against the Patriots. (What sport is this? you are probably also asking. For the record: football.) It's okay, non sports fan: here is your exclusive guide to Tim Tebow.

Since Seth's departure last Thursday, there have been many articles written that suggest he was fired specifically for making a "racist" slur in his post. There was this headline. And this one. And this one. That's just not true.

You never call, you never write, and Google has had it: If you would like entry into the spiffy new Google search results, and you are a social network, Google would like you to send the company a letter first.

Newt Gingrich already has ads running in South Carolina attacking Mitt Romney as "pro-abortion," and his Super PAC is planning to drop a socialist neutron bomb on Romney's career at Bain Capital, thanks to a large donation from a viciously anti-labor casino magnate billionaire. And here's yet another, lighter attack: A compliation of Mitt Romney saying ludicrous things. (Newt Gingrich, see, has never said anything ludicrous in his life.) Who can resist? Especially since it includes the "Who Let the Dogs Out" MLK Day moment of 2008, the pinnacle of Romney's career.

It's reassuring for me, as a writer, to know that if all else fails and my entire career crumbles to pieces, I can always survive by selling Slate literally any story about anything I have ever done. I can derive an entirely new income stream for a period of time equal to the length of my entire writing career, by writing thousands of new stories recounting each individual day of my career, and the exciting—or unexciting—lessons I learned, or did not learn. It doesn't matter that that would be pointless; "pointlessness" is a concept that does not translate to the internet. We're living in a post-pointless era. Enjoy it.