Kate Ryan

She closed in on the open pores enlarged ten times their normal size by a high magnification pocket mirror.

You could take this easy, informative quiz to find out with whom you side on important legislative issues and social policies. Or you could go my route and pick your candidate based on what dinosaur they resemble.

I saw my old babysitter at a women’s wrestling cage match.

Everywhere you look these days (on Instagram), beautiful pictures abound. From teacups overflowing with succulents to smoothie bowls arranged as art. All while a lavender-haired model casually eats ice cream in front of a stupidly gorgeous Tahitian sunset. All this endless beauty has become a bit dull.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

He thought I was mad, but in an artistic way; I thought he was horny all the time, but in an artistic way.

Light some candles and use those bath salts you've been saving for a special occasion. Masturbate for 55 minutes.

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.