Miriam Jayaratna

2 weeks ago | newyorker.com | Wendi Aarons |Emily Flake |Johanna Gohmann |Miriam Jayaratna

You want me to spank you, don’t you? Too bad, because instead I’m going to punish you with disappointed sighs. Now hold this remote in your hand. That’s right, nice and tight. But don’t click it to watch the new episode of “Real Housewives of Salt Lake City”—not until I grant permission. Remember how you wanted me to check if the stove was off before bed, baby? Well, guess what? I didn’t. I know how badly you want to be blindfolded.

Dec 6, 2024 | bostonglobe.com | Miriam Jayaratna |Ali FitzGerald |Ali Fitzgerald

Miriam Jayaratna is a clinical psychologist and writer. Ali Fitzgerald is an artist and author living in Paris.

Nov 21, 2024 | mcsweeneys.net | Miriam Jayaratna

“Over the past week, Bluesky’s growth has exploded, more than doubling to 15 million-plus users as people seek alternatives to X, Facebook, and Threads.” — New York Times- - -Wow, hi. Overnight, I’ve gone from the girl who sits alone at lunch to the azure butterfly of your dreams. So, before things go any further, let’s make sure we start on the right digital foot. First of all, it’s not pronounced “Blue-ski.” You all have been watching too much TV with your toddlers.

Nov 8, 2024 | newyorker.com | Emily Flake |Miriam Jayaratna

Hi, it’s Gwen Walz. Tim has locked himself in the bathroom and has his headphones on. I really have to pee, and the toilet in the downstairs half bath is clogged. Will you pitch in twenty dollars for a locksmith? Emily, this is urgent. I’m going to buy more guns—even five dollars will help. The House is still up for grabs and Americans are deranged enough that this might just clinch it. —KamalaHi, Emily, this is Justin Trudeau.

Oct 30, 2024 | mcsweeneys.net | Miriam Jayaratna

“I should have used Saran wrap, but I’m not above eating the stale remains of the pickleball player’s soul.”I yawn out a plume of black flies, then slither out of bed and over to the Keurig machine. In my haze, I accidentally puncture the last pod with a gnarled claw, causing coffee grounds to explode all over the floor. Beelzebub’s breasts! Guess I’m going out for coffee.