Kate Ryan

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

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

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…

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

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

I would send some chocolates, but I’m not allowed anymore since they found the shiv in the birthday cake I sent you.

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

Alma couldn’t understand why her Yelp reviews were so dismal. She didn’t advertise herself as a magician. She was a hair stylist.

At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.