In Todd We Trust

I want to start a new religion. Why? Well, I'm a deeply spiritual man who feels his religious choices are lacking. Also, I'd stand to make a shitload of money. I've given this heavenly enterprise several minutes of light contemplation, and this is what I've come up with:

-Holy sacrament: Small-batch bourbon and Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. The blood and body of Todd.

-Can gays marry? Sure, but it'll cost them. In addition to the church's normal fees, all same-sex unions will be subject to a 15% "Having to put up with a bunch of narrow-minded, redneck fuck-for-alls protesting outside the building" surcharge. Sorry, but cleaning up all that tobacco juice is expensive.

-Who can be a minister? Anyone, male or female, who can keep their dirty meat-hooks off the kids! Thou Shalt Not Diddle the Kids! It's the eleventh commandment in my church. Actually, that brings me to my next point.

-We don't need ten commandments. My religion doesn't care if you honor your father and mother. Should Jan Benet Ramsey's parents be honored? Sure, if by "honored" you mean beating them with socks filled with nickels until they're almost dead, duct-taping wolverines to their crotches and tossing them over Niagara Falls. Here are the church's commandments.

Thou Shalt Not Kill

Thou Shalt Not Steal

Thou Shalt Not Rape

Thou Shalt Not Diddle the Kids

That's it. Lying isn't encouraged, but it certainly doesn't warrant its own commandment.

-Despite the name of this post, I will not be the object of worship. I fully expect to become rich and decedent from this venture, and nobody needs to see their god stumble out of VIP at four in the morning with a coked-out Bijou Phillips on his arm.

-In the United States, Jesus will still be the center of attention. Minus the evangelical interpretation of his words, Jesus had some good ideas. And it's what I know. However, as the church spreads throughout the world, we'll "localize", using whichever god in a particular country is going to make us the most money.

-Once I'm rich, we'll start giving some money to worthy charities. Most of them will be legit, but some of them, such as Ubermilfians for Justice, will be fronts to line the pockets of my blogger
friends. If you're on the VIP list, which is now lengthy to the point of self-parody, expect to cash in.

-No potluck dinners. The Widow Phillips can shove the brussel sprout ala mode she brings to every event right up her puckered poop-chute. All social events will be catered. Also, OPEN BAR, BITCHES.

-The songs will be better. When a choir member is old and her voice frail and weak, she will be politely asked to leave. She doesn't want to be asked a second time. And no standing up and sitting down over and over. Sit there and mentally drink the Kool-Aid we serve you, enjoy the good music, and empty your wallet into the collection plate. Praise the Lord.

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Also, I actually left the house last night! I had a few drinks and shot the shit with my new friend Shaken. She's a funny, sweet person who said really nice things about my blog and me in general. So, I finally got a "real-world" compliment, Egan.