Kate Ryan

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

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

She got too high while watching The Bachelor and had a misanthropic breakdown.