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How the Legend Began
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The story of the first time those immortal words were uttered - 'eggs from a hen'
The day will live with me forever. One saturday in Brisbane last July, after working for mad sales people, many of our number spent the evening at my mate's house, drinking immensely. So nice. Personally, I spent about 8 hours in the same position, playing FIFA 99, smoking many buckets and drinking lots of Victoria Bitter (the best cold beer).
Come sunday morning, I staggered back on the train with my friend Stevey Bone (who can be contacted on heneggs@hotmail.com ) to our area of Brissie. Whereupon, naturally, we fancied eggs. "Yes, eggs" we thought. So we went to a service station (a "servo" in Aussie convict speak) to buy eggs.
Inside, there was one fat man. I addressed him: "Excuse me, do you sell eggs?" After an unnaturally lengthy pause he replied "Eggs?". "Yes eggs. From a hen." I explained. At this moment the sheer genius was beginning to overtake Boney and me, and we began to quiver. The fat man, again after some cogitation, answered thusly: "No, but there's a shop a couple of k's that way that does." We thanked the man, and left with our minds enriched with the sheer simple beauty of eggs from a hen.
From that day on, whenever Boney and I worked together, or drank together, or pretty much whenever we spoke, the sole words we used were "eggs" and "hens". It grew so severe, that at one time we would throw notes with one word or the other, and become hysterical with laughter.
Many months later (about four, anyway) I could not resist the urge to discuss eggs and hens with my new acquaintances at university. Despite my efforts to intitially appear normal, I soon reverted to hens and eggs. Thankfully, rather than being ostracised and struck with bars like I had expected, the concept was broadly accepted, and many hours were spent discussing the relative merits of the fowl and its foetus.
At this point I casually mentioned The Gibbon King to Dave, who out of sheer ins-hen-ity came upon the realisation that The Gibbon King himself also lays eggs. Eggs from a Gibbon King. So we have our trinity, the beauty, mystery and love that is....
EGGS, HENS, GIBBON KING.
So nice. I appreciate some of you may feel that this is an overlong, dull and confusing story, but to those people I have one suggestion: See the Outboard Motor.
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Email:
eggsfromahen@hotmail.com
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