The Pen and the Prod: Original Hot and Steamy Burger Jokes

Original Hot and Steamy Burger Jokes

A cheeseburger walks into a bar and sits down next to a stunningly beautiful young woman. He says, “Can I buy you a drink?” Foxy lady turns, leans close, and in her most seductive voice says, “Can I pour ketchup all over you, pick you up by your buns with both hands, and swallow you whole?” The cheeseburger…

  • Stands up, shocked, and says, “I’m very sorry, Miss, but I’m looking for more than a one-night burger stand!”
  • Winks and says, “Congratulations, baby. You just created the world’s first half-pound Happy Meal.”
  • Recognizes the woman’s sad vulnerability, the likelihood that she’d missed out on strong parental guidance, and the chances that other burgers had mistreated her—all leading to a low self-esteem and a reckless attitude toward casual dining. He brushes her cheek softly with the edge of his top bun and says, “No thank you, dear, but if you would ever like to get together and just talk—about life, hopes, dreams—look me up in the menu.”
  • Winks and says, “Consider me super-sized.”

The Straight Beef Gangsta Rap

Say what? You must be trippin’ with a patty like that

Even Ron the red-head stepchild can do better than that!

Frontin’ me some fried-up disc of soybeans you done mixed in a vat?

Better check yourself and realize who you lookin’ at!

An’ I ain’t ‘bout to get dissed by some punk-ass b$&%@.

Don’t know a real Angus patty from the a%& on his itch

Next time you serve this pimp a burger, better show some respect

Or you’re gonna see what a burgiatrist can do when he’s p%&^#$!

Cause it’s a Straight Beef G-thing, Baby

Three loc’d out Gs eatin’ crazy

Layin’ down burger truth for the ladies

And makin’ burger education straight SEXY.

And all you other chump reviewers with your lame-a&% blogs

You may not mean any harm, but you be steerin’ peeps wrong.

Go ahead and rate a burger but you’re gonna get flogged

Ain’t got no ivy-league cred like me and my TSB dogs.

Cause it’s a Straight Beef G-thing, Baby

Three loc’d out Gs eatin’ crazy

Layin’ down burger truth for the ladies

And makin’ burger education straight SEXY.

—John McManus, distinguished burgiatrist and renowned author of Self-Actualization, Medium-Rare

The Pen and the Prod: USDA Prime Poetry and Prose

Love at the Gunder Street Pub & Grill

By John McManus, licensed burgiatrist

He leaned back and pulled open the metal-framed plate-glass door of the Gunder Street Pub & Grill with what felt like his last ounce of strength. A meager ring of the bell above his head seemed shrill to him in his state, and it sparked his sensitive nerves. But as the door closed, warm air, the murmuring of strangers, the sound and smell of the sizzling flat grill, the colors of the long mahogany bar and the scattered heavy glasses filled with brown, gold and amber, and the dim stained glass lights quickly melted the chill from his sanguine cheeks. Read more

Review #3: Mojoe’s Burger Joint (Raleigh)

John’s Review

Mojoe’s Classic Big Moe burger moved me.

It was in this humble, cozy establishment, at one of its handful of smallish tables, ensconced within Polaroid-lined walls, beneath a clothesline of justifiably blustery Mojoe’s T-shirts, that I and my fellow TSB experts had our burger horizons unexpectedly expanded.

At first glance, the Classic Big Moe looked like an average Classic-category cheeseburger on a store-bought sesame-seed bun (don’t make me say Merita…there, I said it), neither toasted nor steamed, complete with shredded lettuce, a slop of condiments, with the order of the build a mite convoluted: The cheese was melted properly enough on the patty, but then came tomato, lettuce, and pickle—in that order!—up to the bun (yes—the pickle against the mayo, people). Presented with a seemingly ho-hum bun like this and an apparent disregard for proper build order, and one’s hopes are understandably dashed.

But alas, I had judged this burger by its proverbial cover.

Mojoe’s mojo is in the patty. Thick, fresh Angus beef with enough rich and luscious burger juice to mix with the moisture of the veggies and condiments, uniting all flavors into a single, wondrous blend of burger bliss.

My rating: 4.5 out of 5 (though seriously tempted to go all the way)

Michael’s Review

It had been a long day. I had spent weeks in a quiet, meditative state, struggling to free my soul of the Spirits surfer burger, and now it was time to emerge and rejoin the physical world.

I entered the joint (yes—definitely a joint) and perused the short menu. Pabst was only a buck and a half—a good sign. I ordered the Classic Big Mo with lettuce, tomato, mayo, cheddar cheese, and—an ingredient that would prove crucial—bacon.

The presentation of the burger was as it should be—modest, in a plastic basket lined with foil. The taste, however, was what it was all about: ten ounces of medium-cooked Angus nirvana. Even by itself the beef was beyond flavorful, but what really did it for me was the bacon. None of this Applewood smoked nonsense, which undermines the burger experience by portraying itself as more than it is. Just plain bacon, perfectly cooked, crispy without being burnt. Frankly, I was so taken aback by the overall flavor that I ignored the order of the build.

I couldn’t think of anything I might have been improved upon. Even after sleeping on it and consulting with my guru, my final rating was unchanged.

My rating: 5 out of 5.

Scott’s Review

Yum num num num num. Wow. Yum. Man, that’s a good burger. Wow. Is this burger amazing, or is it just me? Yum num num. [Sigh.] Whew. Man, there’s just not a lot wrong with this burger. Yum num num. Yum num num num num. This has got to be a five. I mean, if this isn’t a five, what is? Yum. I mean, granted, you have to be stingy with your fives. You can’t just be slingin’ fives like candy at a clown show. I mean—num num num—Silence of the Lambs is a good movie. A great movie. But you have to save your fives for Star Wars, you know? What? No, I’m not saying that this is the Star Wars of hamburgers per se. Though it does have that slightly euphoric blowing-up-the-Death-Star kind of feeling to it. Yum num num. Yum num. Man, this burger is good. Yes—I do realize that I’m a world-renowned burgiatrist yammering on like a schoolgirl meeting Joe Jonas. But did you see this lettuce? It’s shredded. I love that. It would have been a five without the shredded lettuce, but man, that just clinches it.

My rating: 5 out of 5.

Mojoe's Burger Joint on Urbanspoon

Love Sonnet to Goodie Goodie

 

Love Sonnet to Goodie Goodie (goodygoodyhouse.com)

As now I think of you upon your plate
I salivate and breathe your fragrant rise
Of steam and grease and juice and love my fate
Until it dawns that I’ve left you behind.

A classic, humble burger that transcends
The bourgeois tasteless patties that abound
Your mystic vintage flat-grill magic lends
An alchemy of flavor that confounds!

And even now I dream of orange seats
Your crispy fries and foolish diet drinks
Tomato, shredded lettuce, melted cheese
Plus mayo and my heart congeals and sinks.

My orange, vintage “breakfast” diner Love,
Exalted, you reside a world above.

John McManus, Burgiatrist/Poet, 2010