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.
“Canada is holding the egg cards! You’ve never once thanked Canada for our eggs!”
Trudeau should provide eggs on these conditions:
- The egg cartons are labeled “a gift from your neighbors in Canada” with a flag on it
- The american flag isn’t featured anywhere on it
- Trump’s name and signature can’t be featured anywhere on it
Then send Trump the agreement for signature. Points #2 and #3 are obvious things to leave off a carton of eggs, until you tell Trump he can’t have them, then they’ll become a critical issue blocking his signature. Then go on Twitter and Truth Social and say “We have 2 billion eggs ready for you guys and Trump is refusing to let us send them” and let the shitstorm follow.
Also insist that Trump has never thanked Canada.
All the shells should be stamped with the maple leave.
I like it, then you could make a black market for eggs, and people could conspicuously post that they acquired the coveted eggs through illicit means.
We should make this an online thing even if it doesn’t happen. Imagine ai news popping up with stories of black market eggs from Canada!
Maybe add requirement that Ukrainian aid be increased over 2024 level too.
Upvote more!!!
Zelensky should have brought a carton of eggs to the oval office.
the best thing for the world right now would be for america to suffer the consequences of its poor decisions. the beatings must continue until we start making better decisions.
What the fuck even is 2025 though
Americas fall into full blown fascism.
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.
Trudeau would be within his rights to tell him to suck off
Nah, fuck that. Let’s see eggs go to $20/dozen.
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.
I hope Trudeau tells him to pound sand.
Stuff that. We should all say “No” and make him go to his handlers in Russia for eggs.
We could just try not eating any, or at least not so many.
The egg thing is really strange to me. Are people eating a few eggs every single day? I usually buy an 18 count every few weeks at most.
I understand that eggs are used in a significant amount of products that aren’t just raw eggs, but the people complaining so loudly are probably not the businesses that use them.
Haven’t had one in 20 years tbh…
Does anyone know what’s happening to the tariffs ?
Literally no one. Not even the fuck-wit-in-chief has any idea at this moment.
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.
I’m lucky enough to live in a place with a lot of local, organic eggs. $4/dozen at my grocery store
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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…
