Tag Archives: earth

How Eggs Are Cooked Around The World

I wouldn’t trust a lizard even if it handed me a background check notorized by António Guterres himself, but despite our different bloods and tongues I’d still accept an invitation to dine. That’s because mammals and lizards agree on two things and two things only: things were better back in the old days, and eating unborn birds is tasty.

Yes, the  vertebrates of our planet love eating eggs due to a biological urge to destroy all offspring that isn’t ours. Over centuries this urge has gone from sending trained wolves to wreak havoc on neighbouring mangers, to a worldwide food phenomenon with ties to all three major meals.

What’s fascinating is that your method of “gettin’ ’em hard” is, to you, as normal as arm holes on a jacket, when to the rest of the globe your practices would appear odd and perhaps even offensive. We went to the library for nine hours and found out how people around the world cook their eggs and the results may shock you:

Italy

Velocità uova (‘Speed Eggs’)

1. Insert raw bird egg into the tailpipe of a Vespa.

2. Drive toward the coast. Every time your bike stalls because of the egg, stop, pick an olive and put it in your boot.

3. When you reach the coast, remove the egg and wash it in Mediterranean sea water. If the egg attracts any sardines, toss your boot olives as far into the sea as possible to lure them away.

4. Utter a prayer of your choosing.

5. Find the nearest lemon tree and peel the egg against the coarse bark. Place pieces of shell into your shell pouch.

6. Leave the peeled egg in the Mediterranean sun until shrivelled to the size of an uvetta (raisin).

7. Serve with olive oil and fresh herbs.


S
pain

Huevos del sol (‘Eggs of the Sun’)

1. Juggle six fresh eggs for 60 revolutions in the nearest square to a crowd of at least five.

2. Wrap in a traditional yarn sling, bash against the cobblestones, and throw onto a terracotta roof

3. Allow to ferment while enjoying a coffee and the sounds and sights of the square.

4. Climb onto the roof and empty contents of the sling onto the tiles.

5. Scrape egg onto a ceremonial sabre called an Espada de yugo.

6. Bring the sword down the the square and serve scraped onto a loaf of freshly fried onions flavoured with saffron.

7. Serve to anyone willing to exchange a story of old.


Iceland

Fjölskyldaegg (‘Family Eggs’)

1. Catch a female freshwater trout. Remove roe and suck on until flavour is extracted — spit back into the river.

2. Find a bird egg, force down the throat of the trout and then add a generous swig of Brennivín.

3. Hang high atop a smouldering pile of juniper.

4. Once all the liquor has evaporated, continue to hang until trout is completely dried.

5. Remove the egg. Feed the dried trout to the village hound.

6. Lay out the egg on an oaken slab and pass down to the eldest son.


J
apan

アーティストの好きな卵 (‘The Arist’s Favourite Eggs’)

1. Choose an egg that matches your energy.

2. Spend six months with the egg.

3. At midnight on the eve of the sixth month, paint the shell in a matter that visually depicts your relationship with the egg.

4. Write a fable of the egg in three volumes.

5. Attempt to sell the fable for film adaptation.

6. If the egg’s fable is not sold, award the egg to a pre-pubescent on their 10th birthday.

7. Accompany the egg’s recipient to the griddle of a master sizzler.

8. Have the recipient select yolk or white. Take what remains for yourself.

9. Consume in quiet reflection.


Netherlands

Eieren uit de aarde (‘Eggs from the Earth’)

1. Roll egg into a mossy grove in a deep valley. Mark location on a map.

2. Select an egg keeper and provide the keeper with the map.

3. Pay the egg keeper three knives per moon to keep watch over the egg.

4. Forget about the egg, for the egg belongs now to its keeper.


R
ussia

Потрясающее яйцо (‘The Stunning Egg’)

1. Crack fresh chicken eggs on top of a hot, energy inefficient stereo playing any Stones record from the 80s.

2. Have every member of the household give it a lick.

3. Serve atop a bed of caraway seeds.


Scotland

White Chips

1. Place eggs under the hind quarters of a family member weighing at least 18 stone.

2. You’ll know the egg is done when the individual has read The Herald in its entirety.

3. Paint with Scotch Whiskey using a horsehair brush then insert one egg into each cheek.

4. DO NOT CHEW.

5. Allow eggs to slowly dissolve.

 

My Ideal Planet

The naughty night noticers at NASA recently peeped 7 new planets that were probably pretty obvious to aliens better than us. This is exciting news for a race of beings who have always fantasized about travelling to other planets to mark our territory by instinctively pissing everywhere only to receive eye-rolls from the natives who have such big eyes that the eye-rolls are are obvious, leading us to retreat back to the more piss-friendly Earth in utter embarrassment.

Now that it might be possible to chill somewhere other than here, there are a few things I’d like to see in a new planet. Since there are probably infinity planets out there, the likelihood of there being one that matches my specifications is 100%.

My ideal planet includes…

Safer volcanoes. Ask anyone–dead or alive or Highlander–where they’d want to hang if danger weren’t a factor and you’d hear two answers: the mesosphere and in a volcano. Volcanoes are way too dangerous to party in so I’m hoping the ones on any new planet is full of savoury goos and sweet foams that would be a pleasure to bop within alongside a selection of our finest party animals.

Sour oceans. Our oceans are renowned for being heavily seasoned with our favourite french fry flavour, which is pretty boring for those of us with sophisticated palettes. I prefer something with zing which is why I’d like oceans with notes of citrus and tamarind.

“This coil-haired Earth womb smells of the bile of a Phim”

Better trees. These days it’s rare to come across an Earth tree that bears fruit I can actually fuckin eat. If all our food on the new planet came from trees we wouldn’t need money, and could spare the lives of native hogs and beefs, forcing them to race each other instead.

Better caves (and plenty of them). I need a planet that provides built-in housing so we don’t have to waste time, money and drywall in making new ones that only treasure hunters and dukes can afford. A good cave system heated by hot springs and cooled by the gems would increase quality of life way more than any Tom Hanks movie ever could.

Better stuff in the desert. Nomads often refer to their local desert as “the beige bitch”, which is awfully disrespectful. Perhaps they’d treat our new deserts better if they were to include things like vines, thorns, and Gatorade.

“Every night I have the same dream” – Buzz Aldrin

More moss. If you live in the city like I do you might as well forget about ever seeing moss the rest of your life. Moss lets you live the lizard life and provides food, a pillow and green/brown tones that could influence your next design project.

Policing by big birds. I’m a freak for fantasy so the idea that we could be policed by giant birds of prey really puts a buzz in my balls. Plus, rather than discriminate against people of colour, bird police will target the rat-like among us who probably need a reality check anyway.

Chiller gravity. Lighten up, you know? With looser gravity we can finally standardize the mattress, rid ourselves of the oppressive sleep number system, and do away with terrible Yelp reviews of hotels that are forced to commit their fleet to either side of the Mohs scale.

First thing I’d ask these locals is, “Pardon me, when’s bedtime around here?”

At the end of the day, there would be zero problems on Earth if there were tons of warm, mossy caves and better trees. If you want me to run for election I’m totally down but must warn that I’ll never stop swearing.

Embarassing moments at the Intergalactic Conference

Oh boy, where to begin? In short I was chosen to participate in an Intergalactic Conference and it was a complete disaster. Maybe my expectations were too high and this type of experience is the norm. Basically it boiled down to this:

actually

actually2

Here are only a few incidents out of many. Some I can’t mention not for any legal reason but because they technically haven’t happened yet due to a rift in space-time that I caused  (long story but it involves my driver’s licence and a card trick).

Got caught fishing a crystal shard out of a toilet by the same being who shat it out.

Was the favourite in a swimming contest because of Earth’s large amount of water. Got smoked by a fish woman and received many death threats (telepathically) from things that lost money betting on me.

Met the being who built the best parts of the Great Pyramids and he was like, “Hahaha that was my grad prank”.

Every time I smiled someone would say, “Your bones are showing”.

My bow tie looked exactly like one of the keynote speaker’s wives.

During a “pupation break” those of us who don’t pupate were forced to watch a nine hour film on new stars narrated in a language that sounded like a goat eating a modem.

Half the species in attendance could see my farts.

This was seriously the photo they put beside my profile in the guidebook.

Ever time I coughed a guest died.

When chewing gum nervously, aliens kept approaching and asking where I got the invisible food. I ‘d tell them it’s just something we chew in Earth and assured them there was no invisible food, but later I found out there was invisible food and those I “lied” to filled my space craft with flying worms.

During a fun get-to-know-you game, I got partnered with a poisonous horn.

Mistook the children’s playroom for a plate of hors d’oeuvres and ate many delegates’ young children.

At dinner I  sat beside something whose skin was magnetically attracted to my hair.

These guys begged to see my dick

Was playing with my iPhone 6 and hoping someone would notice it but everyone was way more interested in a lava man who brought a book with him.

Speaking of which, the thing that wrote the Bible got an award for satire and forced me up on stage when a reporter asked, “What do the buffoons in your book actually look like?”

Went to get my picture taken with Earth in the Hall of Planets but something slimed it.

A security guard recommended I leave because a lot of attendees wanted to eat my eyes. I took its advice but left too early to get a gift bag that apparently included God’s autograph.