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In February, at a hastily convened meeting of Catholic Church lawyers and administrators in Center City, that was the first question Cardinal Justin Rigali asked. And he needed an answer quickly. 

Five days ago, we closed a profile built around an interview with Charlie Sheen that will appear in the April issue of GQ. Since then, Sheen has continued doing what the article describes—texting and emailing the media (on Friday, he sent images of his new "Death from Above" tattoo to Entertainment Tonight) and calling in live to radio shows.

Mr. John Susor—husband to nine wives and lover of all ladies—was sitting beneath a bevy of brassieres strung like prayer flags from the ceiling of his dark Florida bar. It was cold, even for February, and he poked the fire in front of him, sending a shiver of glowing embers aloft.

It was nothing more than a small piece of dead skin, or perhaps a stray bit of dust, but against her model’s bright red lips, the mote could not stay. That was all the more apparent on the screen of the expensive high-definition video camera that Leder had acquired for the video shoot.

She wanted it to be like the scene in the Lana Del Rey video for “Blue Jeans”—“hot and slow and epic.” The scene where strangers meet and fall into an easy intimacy, making love in a pool—“and they look so hot and it’s just, like, totally epic.

There are things about women that most men would just as soon never discuss. The stirrups in a gynecologist’s office, for one; the tampon aisle at the grocery store, for another; and pretty much any matter involving words like “cervix,” “uterus,” and “vagina.”

The house meeting begins promptly at 7 p.m. Mickey paces the living room with a clipboard in one hand, a cigarette in the other. His three newest housemates—Stephen, Hop, and Larry—sit before him. “When you all came to this house, you begged me to move you in,” he says. “Right or wrong?”

Nisan didn’t mean to fall in love with Nemutan. Their first encounter — at a comic-book convention that Nisan’s gaming friends dragged him to in Tokyo — was serendipitous. Nisan was wandering aimlessly around the crowded exhibition hall when he suddenly found himself staring into Nemutan’s bright blue eyes.

I wish that oh-so-capricious economy could eat this one, but somewhat cruelly, things are booming in Hogtown. Toronto bounced back like a toddler in an inflated castle. Or a drunk shoeless adult. 

About halfway into the three-hour flight from Delhi to Tashkent, I fear the plane will begin to spin anti-clockwise and spiral down. This is because almost every passenger from the right and middle sections of the plane has risen and crowded into the left aisle, with some actually crouched above those sitting in the leftmost seats of the Uzbekistan Airways A310.

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