Megalomaniacal supervillain Jim VandeHei and emotionally hobbled robo-reporter Mike Allen, both of Politico, have penned a rugged endorsement of Mitt Romney's chief grievance today, agreeing with his advisors that the press corps is busy "scaring up stories to undermine the introduction of Mitt Romney to the general election audience." We need more serious, measured, balanced, non-inflammatory reporting on both candidates, said the men responsible for Politico, a web site that catalogs what political flacks' "dietary dossiers."

Fat dick Roger Ailes, who runs Fox News channel when he's not busy spying on his employees, threatening old men, or trying to destroy people who take photographs of his bathrooms, made some waves last week when he called the New York Times "lying scum" for writing about him. What made fewer waves was the fact that the thing that had him so exercised about the Times never happened, and his accusation was itself a lie.

Heavyset American Jonah Goldberg has a new book coming out about how the people he disagrees with are not merely wrong, but are also poisonous hateful cheaters and liars and fascists and tyrants. The dust jacket claims that Goldberg has "twice been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize," which is true in the sense that I am a three-time World's Greatest Dad nominee.

The Wall Street Journal has picked up on a cruel, mean girl trick embedded within the pages of Teen Vogue's 2012 prom issue. It is this: convince all the gullible girls to show up to prom in their PJ's.

Mike Daisey has been roundly and justly castigated for selling his bullshit stories about visiting the Foxconn complex in Shenzhen, China, to This American Life. But even some of his harshest critics are buying into the idea that, in some contexts—just not "journalistic ones"—it's OK to tell little lies in service of a "larger truth."

This New York Times article yesterday about a Manhattan gym that caters to billionaires and business titans contains this bit of braggadocio from one of the gym's members:

China: the "Far East," where four thousand years of cultural evolution has culminated in a battle to see whether The Mighty P'zone™ or the Big N' Tasty™ will become the national meal of choice. McDonald's has an outside-the-box new advertising strategy to woo the wary Chinese: telling them that McDonald's food is not a monstrous blight upon the concept of dining.

A 52 year old man was arrested in Madison for strolling into a restaurant, announcing he was the new general manager, and whipping himself up a little dinner.

Kudos to NYU's Brennan Center for Justice and the New York Times' Michael Powell for catching NYPD spokesman Paul Browne in massive, galling, and bald-faced lie. The man should be fired.

Lies: They travel halfway round the world before the truth gets its boots on. If you don't tell them, you never have to remember anything. Ask me no questions and I won't tell you any. The year that now comes to an end was, like all years, riddled with them. Grand lies and small ones, grave ones and frivolous ones, true ones and false ones—check that. They were all false. Here is a list of some of them that really caught my attention.

For a country led into ruin by a fuckhappy Oompa Loompa, Italy has its fair share of hangups when it comes to sex. One such instance is currently splashed across that country's headlines, for the way that it led to a Gypsy shanty town being burned to the ground.

Patagonia is a company that sells jackets with the subtle, socially responsible message "I am a significantly better human being than you." People who wear Patagonia jackets are successful enough to take ski vacations and purchase $250 items of clothing that resemble trash bags, but also conscientious enough to donate to attend lots of local environmental charity balls, in Aspen. And while you, the fat slob "average American," were scarfing down styrofoam-encased fast food and doing your "Cyber Monday" online shopping in a non-sustainable manner, Patagonia was doing something a little different for the crazy shopping day.

Fast food is a luxury these days. Fast food chains can no longer just set up a plastic lean-to on the side of any major highway and expect Americans to flock in for 99-cent anus burgers; now, they have to convince impoverished Americans that their "Val-U Men-U" items were prepared by a real live chef.

The first rule of hipness is that hip people talk about "hipness" a lot. When you're around someone who uses the word "hip" a lot, well, you know that hipness is in the air, because nothing is hipper than bandying about the word "hip" as it relates to "hipness," in both writing and casual conversation.

Dep. Insp. Anthony Bologna, the NYPD commander whose loose ways with pepper spray caused a stir last month at Occupy Wall Street (and cost him some vacation days), has told colleagues that he "acted with the best intentions" when he sprayed a group of ladies who weren't doing anything at all, and he's been "tortured" ever since.

This is a distasteful subject, yes, but let's, for a moment, talk about defenses against a rape charge. I guess people who are charged with a violent rape could say it was a case of mistaken identity, that they weren't the guy who did it. That is about the only possible defense that I can think of! Or, you can try what NYC rape suspect Jason Quinones is saying: that terrified woman whose apartment I broke into totally wanted it.

It's pretty eerie how the media industry—which makes its money by selling advertising—is not capable of making a single decent ad for itself. The dying newspaper industry is now pinning its hopes on the classic lonely man's rationalization: "Smart is the New Sexy."

According to a transparent and successful piece of marketing linkbait bullshit survey, a full quarter of college students would give up sex in order to, let's see, [fill in the blank.]

Just kidding! Obviously there are many, many, many more lies. But a video released yesterday of Breitbart yucking it up with the folks at Opie and Anthony while passing around a photo of Anthony Weiner's cock—a rather cavalier little party trick that resulted in a photo-of-a-photo-of-a-photo of the cock shot seen 'round the world making its way on to Twitter and this here web site—exposes three. Let's take them in turn:

Watching Ann Coulter antagonize black people and 9/11 widows is, at this point, pretty boring. Watching Ann Coulter answer questions about her age, though? Strangely thrilling. Here's Piers Morgan quizzing the razor-boned pipe cleaner about the time she dropped two years from her age.