Kate Ryan

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

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

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

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

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

She closed in on the open pores enlarged ten times their normal size by a high magnification pocket mirror.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

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

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

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