Kate Ryan

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

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

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

Recently, it was announced that the Ocean’s Eleven remake will be ladies-only too. Could it be that we’ve embarked on an era in which women take center stage?

The bread had to be store-bought and white, of course, so as not to raise a red flag among my classmates. I still see rebellion in a ham sandwich.

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

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.

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.