Kate Ryan

Recently, it was announced that the Ocean’s Eleven remake will be ladies-only too. Could it be that we’ve embarked on an era in which women take center stage?

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

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

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

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

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

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

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

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 . . .