cheap omelettes

in the land of roaring mice

after many cold and dark months, today was a good day.

It was a five egger.

Five hens.

Five eggs.

That may seem like a poultry sum to many around the world

Unless of course you live in ‘Merica

Apparently in ‘Merica those five eggs would hatch ten dollars in my pocket.

With the exchange rate these days?

That’s seventeen Canadian.

No wonder that angry, flaccid orange turnip thinks we should be a state. That fucker isn’t after our water or access to our protected dairy industry. That flaccid bastard wants our eggs.

Some say that Canada is playing the role of David vs Goliath.

Others have called Canada as the mouse living next to a sleeping elephant.

Well.

The elephant woke up, reattached it’s wig and started trumpeting about the mouse.

What’s worse?

It big orange elephant has been smashing all around the farm sending the price of eggs through the roof.

It enough to make one wish that the summer sniper had better aim.

Sure, us mice are small.

But no one is hunting us for our tusks.

And when the price of being an arse on the global stage comes to be paid,

that stupid fucking elephant is going to end up with eggs.

Not in the frying pan, but on its face.

Don’t fear the reaper.

Fear the mouse who roars.

We’re small

And we’re mighty.

Most of all?

We’re going nowhere anytime soon.

For my ‘Merican friends?

Go masturbate destiny some place else.

And for the rest of the world?

Buy Canadian eh?