Kate Ryan

Is flagging potentially offensive material taking the PC movement too far?

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

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

A bloated mother in her polka dot one-piece gnaws on a corndog while reading the romantic pulp she picked up on her way out of the supermarket . . .

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…

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

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.

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

He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.