Kate Ryan

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.

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.

He thought I was mad, but in an artistic way; I thought he was horny all the time, but in an artistic way.

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

It was a tradition of theirs. When siblings Sue and Johnny went home to their mother’s for Christmas, they watched the 11 o’clock local news.

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.

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

At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.

She got too high while watching The Bachelor and had a misanthropic breakdown.

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