Kate Ryan

Kate Ryan

Bio

A Revolutionelle is the woman curled up in the back of a cafe, accompanied by a good book and lots of espresso. She’s the kind of girl you want to grab a beer with. She unapologetically loves the Bachelorette and Masterpiece Classic. She’s a fiend for dark chocolate, cheeseburgers, juice cleanses, milkshakes, kale, boxed wine, and whatever the hell she feels like. She goes for long walks on the beach, takes long naps on the couch, hikes through the Sierras, skinny-dips in community pools, soaks in lavender-scented bubble baths, rides mechanical bulls, or does none of those things because she does whatever the fuck she wants. She’s a tomboy, jeans-and-tshirt-wearing, girly girl, diva, fashionista, rebel rockstar, tea-drinking diplomat, hellhound motorcycle babe, spiritually-centered yogi, bookworm, historical buff, comedian, jack of all trades, all in one day.  She’s a contradiction and that’s okay. She speaks her mind. She loves herself. She’s an all-around badass motherfucker.

Kate Ryan Articles

Credit: ThinkStock

Trigger Warning: Trigger Warnings Are BS

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

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It'll cure what ails ya.

The Only Tip You’ll Need To Survive The Holidays: Masturbate

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

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Valentine’s Day At The Corcoran State Prison: Flash Fiction

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

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Date Night At The Apocalypse: Flash Fiction

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

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All aboard that train. Thinkstock

Riding The Marrakesh Express: Flash Fiction

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

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Unforgiving Light: Flash Fiction

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

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Some Helpful Career Advice From A Pompous Mansplainer

"No self-respecting journalist or publication would ever hire someone who employs the word 'sh--' as a title for anything."

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Conversation With A Faucet: Flash Fiction

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

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Why Maps To The Stars Is Everything Wrong With Hollywood

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

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Family Traditions: Flash Fiction

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.

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