Can we just tariff the damn chickens already? Theyve been ripping us off for too long!!
this post was submitted on 09 Mar 2025
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Just like they cheer for the dismantling of the Department of Education because they think it has any influence on curriculum. Just wait until red states learn that the DoE’s sole purpose is to redistribute funding from blue states to assist with their underfunded schools, accessibility, and scholarships.
wait until red states learn
I'm seeing a problem...
Oh we'll be waiting, any century now it'll happen I swear
they don’t want brown people in their states getting any of that nonsense, so they’re happy to suffer to make that happen
Just wait until red states learn that the DoE’s sole purpose is to redistribute funding from blue states to assist with their underfunded schools, accessibility, and scholarships.
Lowering education funding is a positive for Republicans, an uneducated populace is generally a right-wing populace.
They implement "school vouchers" that takes tax money and gives it to the correct families so they can opt out of public schooling. Poor people will fund the superior education of the whites / honorary whites, as our Founding Foreskins intended.
Once it hits $17.76 we know what's gotta happen.
Do.... we throw the eggs in the harbor?
No, we see if chickens float.
Instructions unclear, tried to build a bridge out of Hillary Clinton. Didn't work, scientists declared, "Not a witch." Trump still says that she turned him into a newt, though.
Politicians were tired of having yolk on their faces so they made eggs prohibitively expensive.
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."
Eggs.
Eggs.
Eggs.
The price is now too low
egg cartons coming in 3x4? relatively rare in these parts.