Kate Ryan

The bread had to be store-bought and white, of course, so as not to raise a red flag among my classmates. I still see rebellion in a ham sandwich.

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

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

“Don’t you smash that cake in my face, or I’ll never forgive you,” she said, and she never did, not really.

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

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

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

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.

A bloated mother in her polka dot one-piece gnaws on a corndog while reading the romantic pulp she picked up on her way out of the supermarket . . .

The Gap come autumn: where normcore and film noir cleverly collide.