Kate Ryan

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

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

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.

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

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

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.

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

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

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

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.