Kate Ryan

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

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

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?

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

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

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 . . .

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.

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

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