Kate Ryan

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

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.

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

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

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

Writing simply does for me what long walks do for small dogs; it makes me tired and happy.

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

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

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

Everywhere you look these days (on Instagram), beautiful pictures abound. From teacups overflowing with succulents to smoothie bowls arranged as art. All while a lavender-haired model casually eats ice cream in front of a stupidly gorgeous Tahitian sunset. All this endless beauty has become a bit dull.