Kate Ryan

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.

Sheila applied widely and on a whim. She needed a job and she needed one fast.

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

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.

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

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

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

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

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

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.