Summary
The Trump administration faces a dilemma as skyrocketing egg prices due to bird flu have forced Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins to consider emergency imports.
With eggs now averaging $8 per dozen (up from $2.25 last fall), Trump may need to request imports from countries he’s recently antagonized—particularly Canada, the largest U.S. egg importer, which Trump has threatened with tariffs and annexation.
Other potential egg suppliers (Netherlands, UK, China) have also faced Trump’s recent hostility through tariffs or threats.
Meanwhile, Turkey plans to export 420 million eggs to the U.S., but this represents less than 5% of monthly U.S. production.
Trudeau should plan a meeting in Ottawa to sign the egg pact, then berate Trump’s ill-fitting suit and say that Canada will slap a 100% export tariff on eggs to the US unless Trump hands over Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
He won’t, because not even Trudeau is that big of an asshole.
I might just move to Canada if he does that.
Sure, we have a golden citizenship for 20 millions (CAD, makes it cheaper for you). You’ll still be an immigrant tho, so expect our conservatives to tell you your DEI if you work and a parasite if you dont.
“Canada is holding the egg cards! You’ve never once thanked Canada for our eggs!”
Dear Canada, as an American, please don’t send us any eggs. 77M+ people here need to face the FO part of FAFO.
Zelensky should have brought a carton of eggs to the oval office.
What if we take our remaining eggs and force feed them to trump until he explodes. I would be willing to sacrifice my eggs for that
I’m thinking how he gets his protein has something to do with how putin controls him.
What a fucking Jackass
Fuck em. I like inexpensive eggs and it’s not like they would send us shit if the shoe were on the other foot. Besides, we have a supply system and would effectively be subsidizing US exports with higher prices. So double fuck em.
Nah, fuck that. Let’s see eggs go to $20/dozen.
Trudeau would be within his rights to tell him to suck off
I hope Trudeau tells him to pound sand.
Eggs.
Eggs.
Eggs.
If I keep posting this every time there are egg related political news stories, maybe it’ll come true?
I put together a little short story about how I would like to see Donald Trump meet his demise. Drowning in eggs:
The Eggsecution.
The once-proud leader, now stripped of title and dignity, stands in the center of the barren, concrete abyss. The abandoned Olympic swimming pool—thirty feet deep, dry as bone—has become their final stage. Above, the gathered masses stretch in every direction, a writhing sea of anticipation.
They do not jeer. They do not boo.
They simply chant.
“Eggs. Eggs. Eggs.”
It starts as a murmur, a low thrum of human voices vibrating in unison. Then it grows, swelling into a deafening roar that rattles windows, that shudders in the bones of every person present. A chant as ancient as it is absurd, a single-minded invocation of punishment.
The first egg arcs high overhead, tracing a lazy curve before splattering against the fallen leader’s shoulder. The yolk bursts, oozing down his baggy, ugly, now-useless suit. A streak of yellow, the first of many.
Another egg. Then another.
Then dozens.
The first impacts make them flinch, stagger—hands raised in a futile shield. But soon there are too many to dodge, too many to deflect. They curl inward as the sky rains viscous judgment. The chant never stops.
“Eggs. Eggs. Eggs.”
Shells crack. Yolk drips. The scent of sulfur and shame thickens in the stagnant air. It coats their skin, their hair, their pride, turning them into something less than human. Something… egg-like.
At the top of the pit, a child—no older than seven—steps forward. They hold their egg with both hands, cradling it like something precious. Reverent. With a deliberate motion, they lob it downward. It strikes the leader square on the forehead, exploding with an almost musical plap. The crowd erupts into a fresh crescendo of cheers, but the chant never falters.
“Eggs. Eggs. Eggs.”
No escape. No reprieve. The pit is smooth concrete, slick now with raw egg and humiliation. They can do nothing but stand there, endure, become part of the ritual.
Somewhere in the throng, a vendor hawks boiled eggs. Another sells cartons to the unprepared. A man in a chicken suit waves encouragingly at the crowd.
The night wears on, but the spectacle does not end.
It cannot end.
Not until the last egg is thrown. Not until the last voice is hoarse.
Not until the world is rid of this one, failed leader, broken not by swords or exile, but by the inescapable weight of public yolk and scorn.
“Eggs. Eggs. Eggs.”
…spam spam spam egg substitute and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam…
We could just try not eating any, or at least not so many.
Haven’t had one in 20 years tbh…
Oh cool, tarrif eggs… That will most certainly drive the costs down!
I know where cheap eggs are…
Costco.
Got 2 dozen for $8 last weekend in Colorado (where they have to be cage free chickens). Costco is a pretty good place to shop.
Or we could have leftover pizza for breakfast
Out of chicks at the local farm stores too.
