Mr. Burger

Oh, Here We Go

I Do Believe It Could Do But Will Never Go Home Again

I’ve been answering the phone more.  Mom calls and I answer.  Last time, we talked for over half an hour.  She caught me up on Grandma’s situation, and then told me about the art she’s been doing.  She’s been trying to get back into art.  I caught her up on work drama, and she told me I should man up and let my manager know I’m interested in and ready for a promotion.  I told her the truth:  that I’m not afraid to do this.  No manning up necessary, I am already there.  At least in regards to minor workplace confrontations.

But then a week goes by, and some more time, and I just keep going to and from work as though this is good.

Although it’s sort of complicated, all you need to know is that I score Somewhat Low on a personality trait called “Conscientiousness.”  To be Conscientious, in personality psych, doesn’t mean to be thoughtful or kind, but rather hard-working, organized, the opposite of distracted or impulsive; granted, there is a certain element of thoughtfulness to Conscientiousness, but it’s more like external awareness: highly Conscientious folks are statistically more apt to remember your birthday, and then to call or text you making sure they have your address up to date so that they can send you a card.


I wrote for over an hour.  I was creating “Tags” for the finished post and accidentally hit the backspace key.  Chrome’s like, “You sure you want to leave this page?”  I’m like “No, oops.”  And but it’s stuck on that question.  I click “Stay on this page” a thousand million times, but nothing.  I try to X out of the question, but no.  I even cave and click “Leave this page,” just to see if it’ll—nothing.  I ctrl+alt+del and shut down Chrome and cross my fingers and lo and behold:  the post is lost, forgotten, never happened.  Chrome just looks at me like I’m crazy when I tell it I spent the last hour using it, typing in it, creating a lengthy and interesting post via it.  Why my hostility, it wonders.

Dear every internet browser:  for the umpteenth fucking goddamned time, why the fucking fuck is the backspace key a fucking “Back” hot key?  Nobody wants that fucking hot key.  Fuck your stupid hot key.  Make F10 the fucking hot key.  Make it some key way up and off to the side.  How about the |\ key, or the ~` key.  How about no fucking key at all.  How about I just click the “Back” button any time I want to go back, like a regular fucking person.  Irreversible deletion should not be swift and convenient.

Here’s that follow-up text from Moot.

Everything I did last year, the whole trilogy, was in hopes of generating enough unique material to piece together a complete album of my own.  I have finished my task.  I call it Little Ghost.  It still has one cover on it, but fuck.

Click here to get the album.

Here’s that follow-up text from Moot.

Everything I did last year, the whole trilogy, was in hopes of generating enough unique material to piece together a complete album of my own.  I have finished my task.  I call it Little Ghost.  It still has one cover on it, but fuck.

Click here to get the album.

Anniversaries Are Great

Mrm and I know we’re awesome.  And so every year, on January 19th, we take time to celebrate that we’re awesome.

Welcome, Brian the Editor

Allow me to introduce Mr. Burger’s newest, greatest, and first-ever other staff-member, Brian!

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Her amazing wail answers her earlier question: What if your own skin makes your skin crawl? Well, maybe you try and turn those feelings into something. Like, say, write and record a terrifically moving song called “Fiya” in your living room. You’ll feel a little better. And then those of us who understand those shitty feelings can sit around and listen to “Fiya”, and we’ll feel better too. That’s what the intimacy of home-recorded music is all about.


For the last few weeks, alone in his apartment, the man has been watching what of Mad Men there is on Netflix.  At one point, one character says to Don Draper something like, “What it all boils down to is:  what we want versus what’s expected of us.”  

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First thing, the light in the blinds is gray not gold.  It’s dull not bright.  The air later is wet.  Leaves on the ground have no crunch to them.  Leaves on the branches curl inward.  

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How to Maneuver In Space

The man is chronically forgetful.  Last night, the man forgot to charge his phone.  Shortly before work today, the man realizes his phone isn’t charged enough to last him the whole day. He plugs his phone in—and then wonders if he’ll remember to retrieve it later, on his way out the door.  

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The man’s desk sits in the back room of his apartment.  The desk is a thing well-built.  He keeps his laptop there, and uses the laptop daily; which is to say, he uses the well-built desk daily, and likes the desk.  It has a nice glass top.  Its seven drawers each have a sweet heavy smell, and glide quietly in and out.  He actually keeps things organized inside the desk.  The man likes the desk.

The man once left some money counted out on the desk, and a visiting woman had folded seven dollars of it into shapes.

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J.Buck’s in Clayton

Set up a place for the human to come in and feed.  When it arrives for its feeding, greet it with another human.  

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But you got to admit!

Guy won’t shut up.  Jesus.

Everybody Smells Different

Ah, that “Jeff smell”. This has remarkably little to do with showering routine and cleaning products, and almost everything to do with your personal sweat. In addition to water and electrolytes, sweat also contains small amounts of waste products, like urea, and smellier things like mercaptans easily pass through the skin. So diet plays a role, natural bacteria in the gut and on the skin play a role, organ health plays a role, density of apocrine glands, percentage of sugar in sweat (which, in turn, allows for increased growth of yeasts which produce their own smell), degree of keratin production (mostly because this can plug pores), natural hormones, and natural pheromones, among other things. Obviously, frequency of bathing will diminish the scents on people, and perfuming plays some minor role, but if you recognize your friend’s scent on their pillow, for example, it’s mostly due to what I just wrote.

In addition to this, there is the influence of breath, which people don’t normally think about. There are a lot of reactive species that get exhaled that have a scent, many of which will linger in air, including ketones, alcohols, and volatile organic compounds. This isn’t even including situations of poor oral hygiene or stomach upset, the latter of which can smell like HCl or sulfur, depending on the nature of the problem.

Top comment (by indianola) responding to the /r/ELI5 thread, “How come all my friends’ houses and clothes have a distinct, separate smell?”