Kate Ryan

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

Like booster engines emptied of fuel, my limbs become disposable, useless tanks as the blood rushes from them.

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

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

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

There are some hipster things that hipsters want us to love, so we’ll join their cult. But we’re done falling for these things because we’re all unique individuals. Here are 10 things you need to avoid right now if you don’t want to be a hipster.

She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.

Hollywood continues to flounder in a dick-sucking frenzy of self-congratulatory white male directors, writers, and producers.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.