Kate Ryan

Hollywood continues to flounder in a dick-sucking frenzy of self-congratulatory white male directors, writers, and producers.

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

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

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

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

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

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.

We’ve all been there. Your boyfriend has a raging boner, but you’re just not in the mood to do anything with it. But how do you tell him to tone that boner down and quick? No need to worry. Here are ten simple, foolproof ways to kill that boner in ten seconds—or less—while keeping your man’s ego rock-hard.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

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