Kate Ryan

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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?

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

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

I would send some chocolates, but I’m not allowed anymore since they found the shiv in the birthday cake I sent you.