Kate Ryan

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

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.

The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

The bread had to be store-bought and white, of course, so as not to raise a red flag among my classmates. I still see rebellion in a ham sandwich.

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

Recently, it was announced that the Ocean’s Eleven remake will be ladies-only too. Could it be that we’ve embarked on an era in which women take center stage?

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.