The Holy Grail Press
Proudly Made On Earth By Earthlings
Word of the Every So Often
urohidrosis: (verb) (pronounced: ur-oh-hi-dro-sis) urinating on oneself. I suppose anybody could do it, but it’s mostly – well, as far as we know – done by certain birds, such as vultures, for thermoregularity – as a way to cool off by urinating on their legs. Urohidrosis can also be used as a disinfectant. I mean, you’re already eating dead things, how much more disgusting can you get?
The Almost Daily
As the story goes, there was this lady, see, named Ruth Graves Wakefield. This was back in the 1930s. It very well could have been this very day. Ms. Wakefield ran the Toll House restaurant in Whitman, Massachusetts. And, as the story goes, she was making cookies, and she thought, “Why not make them with chocolate?” Not melted chocolate, but just chips… chocolate chips. And, Voilà! The Toll House Cookie. Originally called the Toll House Chocolate Crunch Cookie, the recipe first appeared in her 1938 cookbook. A year later she sold the rights to her cookie for only one dollar, and free chocolate for life. And that’s not a bad deal. You put all that together, and you get National Chocolate Chip Day. The only thing better would be an ice cold glass of milk. But, alas, World Milk Day isn’t until June 1, and you already missed National Milk Day on January 11. But don’t let that stop you!
Cartoon of the Week
Bear With Me
Stuff
One Fine Day in the Mid-Nineteenth Century
Deep in the Woods of British Columbia
– a very short play –
Setting: A clearing in the woods.
At curtain the clearing is empty, but filled with the sounds of birds.
Enter Left Sir Richard along with his trusty companion, Peter, pushing their way out of the undergrowth. They cross to Center.
Sir Richard: (excitedly pointing up into a tree) There! There! Mark it down, my good man. A new species of bird! I think I'll call it a Tit.
Peter: And a fine name it is, Sir Richard. But what kind of tit?
Sir Richard: And right you are, Peter. Bloody well done. As you know, there can be lots of different kinds of tits. And it is our duty to see them all!
Peter: Indeed, but what shall we name this one?
Sir Richard: It was in the bush, so I say it's a Bushtit.
Peter: Brilliant!
Sir Richard: Now doesn't that just make you giggle? Like the Dickcissel. Now there's a silly name. After all, it's not a truly good name if it's not just a tad bit silly, too, now, is it? Now let's be off, and if we're really lucky, we'll find a pecker or two before nightfall. And maybe even a cock! And tomorrow... boobies!
Exit Right Sir Richard and Peter into the undergrowth.
Curtain.
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