Kate Ryan

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

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

The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.

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

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

Like booster engines emptied of fuel, my limbs become disposable, useless tanks as the blood rushes from them.

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

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…

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