Kate Ryan

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

The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

For all of you crazy people that think going to Target is ever a good idea during the holiday season, this is a list on how to survive a shopping trip to Target is for you…

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.

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

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

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.

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