Kate Ryan

“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.

I saw my old babysitter at a women’s wrestling cage match.

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

I have no choice but to start all over again, tomorrow or not at all.

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

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

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.

There are some hipster things that hipsters want us to love, so we’ll join their cult. But we’re done falling for these things because we’re all unique individuals. Here are 10 things you need to avoid right now if you don’t want to be a hipster.

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.