I read the New Yorker for the articles

So I was home today before Katherine, and started reading her New Yorker. Want to know something interesting about this week's New Yorker? There's naked people in it! A whole, startling, page of them! Not naked victims of torture, or naked people from a culture in which nudity is the norm, but Playboy centerfolds! While I can't say this had the effect on me it would have on half the population, I was certainly distracted by it, enough so that I even read some of the accompanying article. As it happened, while I was reading this article, I was eating pasta. I eat pasta almost every night, but I have trouble whenever I try to combine eating pasta with reading, talking on the phone, and so forth. I once even dropped my cellphone, face down, into a plate of pasta while attempting to hang the phone up and eat pasta at the same time (Katherine's my witness). This evening, somehow, some of my dinner migrated onto the article in question, such that when Katherine got home and I told her that I wanted to show her something funny in her New Yorker, the absolute worst possible pages were completely stuck together.