Kate Ryan

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

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

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

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

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

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

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

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.

For all of you crazy people that think going to Target is ever a good idea during the holiday season, this is a list on how to survive a shopping trip to Target is for you…