Kate Ryan

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

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

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.

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

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.

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

Light some candles and use those bath salts you've been saving for a special occasion. Masturbate for 55 minutes.

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

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