Thursday, April 9, 2009

Anti-Furniture Religion

I have been on the cusp of starting my own relegion for awhile now. I really fee that an unearthy power is speaking to me, insisting that I start a religion that trumps other religions. Although I would say that a significant amount of time has gone by on Earth without my new religion. I believe that was just build up of my new religion... all that time has led to this moment in time. I'm happy to oblige, after all, who better to start a religion? I have what it takes surely.

Okay, the name of my religion is the Anti-Furniture Religion. And is really based off of one premise-- no furniture. Especially couches. Couches are the equivalent to certain lacking religions version of "the devil". However, couches are really more significant that any red-man with a nasty mustache. Couches are really the origin (I always forget the first i in this word) of evil.

Here is my intro pamphlet. I figured I would have people pass these out to fast food workers and spring break goers. Do you think I could sucker someone into doing that (I say this knowing I can).

So, what are you going to have to do to be a member of my religion?

Good question, well, because their is going to be no need to furnish the sacred places of my religion, you are lucky that you are not going to have to pay a high price. Perhaps a monthly fee of a baked good for our pot-luck dinners or a couple hours working our pancake breakfast. However, beyond that the Anti-Furniture Religion is relatively inexpensive?

What does it mean to be a member of the Anti-Furniture Religion?

Well, I anticipated that you would ask that. We do follow "commandments" of sorts, yet I (as the founder) prefer to call them "actments"... they are like commandments, yet they are actions. The one actment that is the most important is to get rid of your furniture-- all of it. We (I) in the Anti-Furniture Religion do not follow the status quo nights of sitting on furniture. Sitting on furniture, proping your glass on a table, and eating from a breakfast table are sins. We (I) do not partake in that, we cannot. To sit means that you are being lazy, and not doing the work of the Anti-Furniture God (or Gods, I haven't worked the beurarcracy out yet). Also, having furniture means that you have intentions of defying the laws of gravity. If you glass of water was meant to be suspended in air, the Anti-Furniture Gods would see to that with out material possessions.

What if I choose not to follow the Anti-Furniture Religion?

Ah, great question! Well, we do not have a hell... apparently that idea went out with the Clinton Adminstration. We do however, need something to scare you into following the rules of the Anti-Furniture God(s). So, whenever you get furniture, the God(s) will take slips of green paper on them marked with the portraits of dead leaders and numbers that you have no idea their meaning. Nevertheless, the God(s) of Anti-Furniture Religion do know what those numbers mean, and that should be sufficient enough to put down that vase.

What counts as furniture?

Everything that is not edible.

Where do I sign up?

At your local grocery store. In the dairy section

Is the Anti-Furniture Religion Tax Deductable?

No

Peace,

The Son? Friend? Chosen? No... those are too mideval... Howabout, "The Founder" (very scary sounding)

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