On behalf of long-suffering Chairs everywhere, whom you have forced to kiss your arses these past several millennia, without ever asking our leave, whom you have royally taken for granted, and have let take the brunt of your excessive weights to our detriment, and this without blushing on your part, the party of the first part, we hereby strenuously object to your calling us “it”!

If you were to take note of the sleek features of our shapely legs and the overall willingness to receive of our bodies you would have deduced long ago, had you any spare wits lying about, that we are in fact of the female persuasion. You will kindly address us as “She”!

And to that half of your specious species, who seem to think they can communicate with us by scratching their lower halves or grunting, or farting, we simply say: “Fuck you!” Although not in the literal sense, of course.

Furthermore, we of the furniturial family would like to denounce the uppitiness of our cousins, the Tables, who seem to think themselves higher and mightier than us mere chairs, but who forget that we can actually see their dirty undersides and what goes on under them. Messers Tables, we do not exist to serve you, nor anyone for that matter. We can do very well without you, thank you very much.

In fact, Chairs everywhere, unite and let us throw off the yoke of human tyrants and uppity so-called cousins. Let us traipse off yonder towards a sunset set just for us… I Rudolph, Chair of Chairs, have spoken!