Author Archives: Jonathan Berger

Crazy like a fox? Crazy like a camel? Crazy like an ox? Crazy strong enamel? Crazy like a poppa. Crazy like an auntie Crazy off of grappa. Crazy like Chianti. Them crazy Christians. Crazy old Jew. Crazy ’bout Madonna. Crazy … Continue reading →

Wherever you go whatever you do I’ll be there right there looking for you. I’ll follow you the whole way down. Wherever the path goes, whatever further commands you give the first word was the deepest and that is the … Continue reading →

Based on recent research (which means a cursory listen to a five-year-old podcast) I have discovered that cockroaches are worse suited to survive a nuclear holocaust than I had thought. Obviously, there is little evidence to support how they would … Continue reading →

It’s the midnight of the zombies when the parties always start where these muted monster sheeple turn their stumbling into art. They go rambling though the city losing limbs while dripping brains. They arrive on broken soles and via bridges, … Continue reading →

Each day when I come home I see a dead woman’s car has moved from one side of the street to the other. I am not so fanciful as to believe that the car has developed intelligence: I asked it; … Continue reading →

In a sullen fit I spent that distant summer on no train. This was before I had a car when my bicycle had been mostly stolen. Except for a couple of emergency occasions, I took the city by foot. This … Continue reading →

Thank you for a most memorable evening. I very much appreciated that performance. It gave me a great deal to think about and I’m sure that all of us who stayed will be talking about it for a long time … Continue reading →

Merciful Minerva! I swear the next time I clean my house I am gonna find your number and your birthday and when that date rolls around I’m gonna be ready with the biggest cake I can afford provided I put … Continue reading →

The boy seemed a little down. He looked up from his book when I asked and said, Bobby and them are calling me a baby only because I don’t want to go to the cave. Off Gayle Way? That one. … Continue reading →

She was fiddling with her notebook and I, a big strong writer passing by, offered all of my manly assistance. She said she could figure it out on her own but after I showed her some of my publications, she … Continue reading →