Kate Ryan

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

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

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

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

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.

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

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.

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

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.