When I was a little gay boy of 8 or 9, I thought all it would take to make me perfectly happy would be the gift of a real L'eggs Egg.It did! But only for a very short time.
Before Hurricane Katrina I was quite fortunate to see the Imperial Napoleonic Egg before it was sent on loan to Cheekwood in Nashville. At the time it was in Mrs. Stream's home in New Orleans. Stunning.
Whenever I dine at a greasy spoon and the waitress asks, “How’d ya like your eggs done honey?” I always reply, “I’d like them Fabergé ‘d please!” It never works.
During a particularly unfortunate decorating period earlier in my life, I actually had a revolving l'Eggs display stand in a corner of my living room.But that's another story altogether...
The Faberge is nice enough and all, but I'd *love* to see a picture of your revolving L'Eggs display.
Oh! Nothing beats a great pair of L'eggs!