OP asked why, not how. Whatsa matta wit you people?
Eggs is wonderful. They have that texture-that-isn't-a-texture (I'm assuming cooked, here). Just a solid mass of food product; no grain, no flake, no crunch, nothing. Just a state of beingness. They are to texture what silence is to music; the perfect state. Eggs are the pinnacle of zen. Hell, zen aspires to be eggs. But nothing, no one, can be eggs. Eggs are.
I'm going to go write a poem now. If you're lucky, I'll post it.
I'm not a procrastinator. I'm a long-term planner.