Kate Ryan

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

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

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.

He thought I was mad, but in an artistic way; I thought he was horny all the time, but in an artistic way.

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

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

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

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

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.

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…