The garretteers are an informal social organization (clique!) centered in the area of Albany, New York. Our purpose is to have fun and be melodramatically ceremonial, so it's kind of like being a Freemason, only it doesn't cost anything and you don't have to take it too seriously.
Our figurehead diety is our Good Lord Garrett. Our real diety is our dear Master of Ceremonies, Adrian. Master Clerk Michael B. is his right-hand man. Our _actual_ diety is unspecified and should really give us a call, but we're pretty sure it was him her hir or it who invented cornbread, and his/her/hir/its gametes are kiwis.
The official ritual of initiation is thus:
To be initiated, one must take the Five Oaths of the Kiwi and pass through The Arch. The Oaths are thus, to be spoken with your left hand raised and your right hand placed where your heart would be if it was on the right side of your chest.
OATH THE FIRST: Kiwi rocks. OATH THE SECOND: Kiwibirds rock. OATH THE THIRD: All kiwi products, including kiwi fruitcake, the soda with the kiwi fizzly stuff mixed in, and Kiwi brand shoe polish rock. OATH THE FOURTH: Garrett rocks. OATH THE FIFTH: Adrian rocks. OATH THE SIXTH: Billie Joe is hot. OATH THE SEVENTH (Erisian Mysteree Oath): Flying baby shit!
The arch usually consists of at least two Garretteers, and the dictator of the oaths takes the initiate by the hand and leads him/her/it through the arch and bestows a title or nickname of some sort.
Because we are now an open clique, formal initiation is not required and you are free to or not to call yourself, your best friend, your cat, or your athlete's foot a garretteer.
The Shadowy Evil Council of Dastardly Doom Most Dire is an event held by the Emcee Adrian during some gatherings. You should go to one.
Having infiltrated the Garretteers about the time they were supposedly founded in early 2005 (allegedly by me), I have come to the conclusion that they are a dangerous syndicate in control of all organized screwing around in New York. They also appear to be somehow connected to the infamous Operation Mindfuck and may in fact be a Discordian cabal. The guy I took a french fry from at Wendy's yesterday gave me a dirty look, and I think that may be a warning that if I delve into this hotbed of chaos any further then I may be putting my own life in danger and I still really want to see how Harry Potter ends, so I'm going to take a nap now. Call me or show up or something if you have anything fun to do.