The Holy Grail Press
Proudly Made On Earth By Earthlings
Word of the Every So Often​
concept of a plan: (noun phrase) Let’s start with “concept”: It’s a abstract idea or a general notion. Truly, it’s just an idea, and not even a solid one at that. So you have a vague idea of a plan. Or, if you will, a plan of a plan, or an idea of an idea. And that can mean nothing more than that you know, eventually, you might need to have an actual plan, or come up with an actual idea. As for now, though, you got nothin’. It ranks right up there with saying you’re “getting ready to start.” So when you hear somebody say that they have a concept of a plan, it’s just bovine feces, and that’s why it’s a sillyism.
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The Almost Daily
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Today is Friday the Thirteenth... again. However, because there are three Friday the Thirteenths in 2026, we're going to celebrate National Exclamation Point Day instead!!!! Exclamation Points can be traced all the way back to 14th century Italy, when Alpoleio da Urbisaglia more or less invented them in his best selling treatise The Art of Punctuation. da Urbisaglia was reportedly annoyed that people were reading stuff with no emotion, so he combined a period and an apostrophe so people would know just exactly where to put all that emotion. By golly! It took awhile for them to catch on, but by the end of the 16th century, they were everywhere! Here at the Press we believe you can't use exclamations points enough! And the more you use them, the more everybody knows how excited you are!!!! So for those of you who are wondering, here's the breakdown!!
One exclamation point: Just a little bit excited!
Two exclamation points: Really excited!!
Three exclamation points: Holy damn and hell!!! I'm excited!!!
Four exclamation points: Stop already!!!! Seek help.
Seriously, one is all you need, ever, and you rarely need that. If your writing isn't doing the exclaiming on its own, punctuation is probably not going to help.
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Cartoon of the Week
STUFF
The Ballad of King Bob and His Horse Bill
This is the story of Wise King Bob
and his stead and companion Bill.
They rode not to pillage and rob.
Rode not to murder and kill.
They rode through country and county.
They rode o’er hill and dale
in search of the sacred bounty,
in search of the Holy Grail.
They traveled through wind, snow, and rain,
through mud and sleet and hail,
through locusts and plagues, untold of pain,
Chevrolet lug nuts and two-penny nails.
Through blackened night and driving sands,
blizzards and buzzards and hoary frost,
through Krsnas and Vishnus and bad rock bands,
and cold spaghetti without any sauce.
For seventeen years they traveled this way,
until finally Bill had had enough.
He sat down on the road to stay,
and said, “Boss, it’s time to get off.”
Said Bill, “My hooves are tired. My back is sore.
I’m ready to go back home.
If you want to carry on some more,
you’ll have to carry on alone.”
Good King Bob would not falter.
He continued on his quest.
So Bill laid down his halter
and returned to his home in the west.
When Bill arrived at the castle,
how the subjects did dance and sing.
Being without a king was a hassle,
so they made a horse their king.
King Bob traveled on many a year more,
‘till one day at a church rummage sale,
in a discount pile on the floor
Good King Bob found the Holy Grail.
Good King Bob, his quest complete
returned the way he came.
Bill gladly gave back the Royal Seat.
To the people it was the same.
And the Holy Grail... it came to rest
beneath a leaky window pane.
And there it does its very best
to collect the falling rain.
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