The villagers, with their pitchforks and torches, have been crying "death to of the magazine!" for some time now, and as someone who works at one, I'm shaking in my pantaloons. On the high heels of CosmoGirl's shuttering and Radar's vanishing off the radar comes word that Condé Nast, the Mongolian Empire of the magazine world, is cutting five percent of all budgets. Not only that, but it looks like Men's Vogue's future in particular is hanging in the balance. And everyone from Portfolio just got called into a meeting. Ominous times.

Via New York and the Observer and Gawker, Radar magazine is closing. For a third time. In the comments on said Gawker post, (former Gawker editor and current RadarOnline contributing editor) Choire Sicha alludes to having already heard the news, noting, “I sure wish I worked at the office because I'd steal everything that wasn't nailed down.” His Twitter page more or less notes the same: “Wow. I actually hung up on a source since I wouldn't have anywhere to publish the story!” Reporter Neel Shah also commented that the staff is even being prevented from writing the traditional farewell post.

Shannen Doherty's rebirth into the spotlight is cause for celebration, no doubt. Couple that with an appearance on the cover of Radar's October issue, and the only kind of fête to do it justice is an event tomorrow night at a WWII-inspired, spelling impaired Flatiron bar, Catch-22. And judging by the tiny logos on the bottom of the invite, suds are courtesy of Blue Moon, vodka by Tito's. David Barton Gym is hosting the event, and are deploying their personal trainers to make sure each beer is accompanied by 1,000 crunches. For a whiff of Ms. Doherty's hair and a brand new six-pack, rsvp to . Party runs 8-10 p.m.

In what might very well be the scariest example of epistolary journalism ever—is that even a thing?—Radar commissioned Bill Geerhart to reconnect with the convicted killers he had originally written back in the late '90s, while posing as 10-year-old Billy. At the time, "Billy" was concerned about whether or not he should stay in school. Now, a decade later, Bill has graduated, and wants to thank the mental mentors of his youth. Manson's response is fucking insane—it's also available in full after the jump!

The Italian Advertising Institute recently banned this ad for Tom Ford shades, reports Radar. It's already run in a few mags, apparently, and the IAI let slide even racier images of junk-clutching and misogynistic laundering. Says the IAI of the shot, "[It] goes beyond acceptable limits for advertising aimed at the general public."