Borger is a small town roughly 45 miles outside of Amarillo, situated in the Texas Panhandle.
Known for it's hardy, ignorant people and potent stench (a mix of feedlot carryover from other cities in the Panhandle and the ungodly stench of a Carbon Black plant, a Fertilizer plant AND an Oil Refinery), Borger finds itself caught somewhere between the quaint charm of Mayberry in it's decline, and the horror of Silent Hill.
The residents are mostly highly prejudiced (particular in regards to race, religion and "Them Evil Demmicrats!") but put on varying degrees of bland banality that range from outright batshit crazy codger to the sweet old lady who always smiles at you, says hi, and secretly pisses in every glass of iced tea she gives you.
The only industries thriving in Borger are the Oil Refinery, and of course, the mecca of all civilization in this tiny wasteland, Wal-Mart. However, Borger is so tiny and insignificant, it doesn't even get a freaking Wal-Mart Super-Center.
Pass through on the road to better places, but do NOT STOP. This town is a vortex that sucks away futures and intelligence.
John: What do you expect? That bitch is from Borger, Texas.
Bob: Explains the smell.
Borgan: uhh, what be this cool ige you takin bout. Here in Borger, Texas we don't do dat kindu stoof