I am a terrible pig. Kind of like the cannibalistic cows in a Gary Larson cartoon, I’m all about eating the pork. One pork product in particular has aroused me to no end; aroused both my ire and my loins. The McRib sandwich from McDonalds. The McRib is a terrible scourge – the pork is nasty and processed and might even have the meat of 1,000 different pigs. But it’s also delicious. Like really really delicious. And it’s a “limited availability” product, which makes it so unbelievably alluring. I want one. Now. And no, I don’t care if I’m going to the eighth circle of pig hell (don’t ask me what type of pig makes it to circle #9 – but not even I am that damned). I just want my McRib.

When people experience life’s most important moments, they remember those who shared in their success. There’s no better way than a greeting card (ok, maybe a Ferrari) to tell them “way to go”! Here at PigSpigot, we have a wonderful library of cards to celebrate special accomplishments.

The Importance of Being Earnest

Sometimes, you don’t want to mess around. You just want to give that special someone a solid pat on the back and tell them, “You did good.” And then that person can show off how smart they are by correcting your grammar. These cards are the best when you just want to say, plainly and simply: “Congratulations.”

This beatiful, typographic congratulations card gets the job done, shortly and sweetly.

This carnivorous creation, emphasizing a job “well done”, makes a wonderful visual pun.

This archer’s delight, celebrating a bullseye, compares achievement to an ancient, violent sport.

Congrats! Now, Drink!

Some of our cards are quite obviously an attempt to excuse or condone the imbibing of alcohol as a mechanism for celebration. Maybe that means PigSpigot artists are a bunch of drunks. Or maybe it’s just that they are plugged into cultural or social norms. For what is more traditional than throwing a few back to celebrate a job well done, a baby born or a hangover cured?

This fantastic design shows a popping champagne bottle and lots of colorful, effervescent bubbles.

Likewise, this card shows two clinking champagne flutes. Nice stems!

Our Piglets really know how to party!

Let’s just hope they party responsibly.

Remember, we make it easier for more people to send better cards!

See you around the sty,
The Pig
ThePig@PigSpigot.com

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Prior to today’s announcement, whenever a new card was uploaded to PigSpigot, it was immediately added to the site’s gigantic card library so that other users could comment on it, rate it, and send it. But members of the PigSpigot community asked to be able to keep some of their creations private.

Indeed, some cards are best kept private. Whether it’s a holiday card featuring pictures of the kids or a racy snapshot from a boudoir session, you can now send PigSpigot ecards and printed cards to select family and friends without letting the entire community know what you’re up to.

To upload a private card, you simply have to check a privacy box on the CREATE page to send your design directly to the new “private cards” section of your profile page. From there, you can send your card out by mail or email just as you would any other card on the site.

Image: The new Private Card box on my MyPig page, with the good stuff blurred out.

And there’s still time to send one of these awesome Thanksgiving greetings as an ecard.

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So pick one and fire ‘em off to the family you aren’t going to be able to be with tomorrow, or send some to friends you haven’t been with in awhile.

Finally, our wish for you tomorrow…

There once was a libertine pig named Porkanova. His porcine face was heavenly, his lovemaking prowess worthy of legend. One night, whilst strolling through the farm, a beautiful sow caught his fancy. Her name was Pigopatra. And in an instant, their lives had changed forever. And by that, I mean they made sweet, saccharine love. Cue the music – baw chicka wow wow. Oink!

They did very naughty things that night.

Little did Porkanova know, however, that Pigopatra had played the oldest card in the libertine-lock-down book: she pulled the goalie. And as would be expected, Porkanova’s world-renowned virility translated into instant implantation.

So there was a piglet on the way – a pork bun in the oven, if you will, as it were. Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway) – this baby was not destined to do great things, like the holy, heavenly baby Jesus. And Porkanova had vowed not to get married until either he or one of his pig cousins had become able to fly. So he did what any other pig in his situation would do. He claimed the baby wasn’t his.

This made Pigopatra very sad. So much so that friends kept sending her PigSpigot cards in the hopes of cheering her up. But their congratulatory notes did nothing to assuage her shattered soul. She fell into a deep depression.

Then, one day on the farm, Porkanova passed her as she held her head in her cloven hooves and sobbed louder than he had ever seen someone sob before. His conscience was shaken, his heart torn asunder. He could no longer live with the guilt.

And this was how Porkanova finally came about to doing the right thing. He married Pigopatra (with a prenup of course) and their wedding night, now with no fear of unplanned fertilization, featured the best loving they each had ever had. Porkanova, in a matter of days, had gone from irresponsible and irrepressible impregnator to a caring, devoted father, ready to take on life’s challenges, ready to go from making love to living it.

Today is the first Football Sunday in a long time. The pig wants to enjoy the games, but nothing can quite shake his nausea. Footballs were made from pig bladders? Oh, the Pig-manity! OK, so they’ve stopped using them. The new ones, made from cow-leather as they are, might shock my poor bovine cousins, but there is nary a pig part put to use by Wilson in manufacturing the official “Duke” game football.

Nevertheless, you must understand that all of my porcine brethren share a deep, embedded consciousness of atrocities past. Porcine Rights have been trampled since time immemorial. Someone tell me why people still eat tripe – it tastes awful (pun intended). And please, if indeed it is possible, explain to me why someone would turn my brothers and sisters into belts.

And so watching football is a terribly fraught experience.  Watching the ball tossed around so cavalierly without respect for its terrible origins. That is just too much for this pig to handle.

What if Wilson were made of a pig's bladder?

As Twitter has grown, its users have created lots of portmanteaux based on the service. Some of them are hilarious — see “Dweet” for “drunk Tweet” and “Twitterhea” for, well, using your 140 characters way too often. There are plenty of examples of less ingenious neologisms, as well, at the Twittonary (twanxiety, anyone?). But before we get too high up on our horse (or hog), though, we’d like to introduce our own Twitterism: the Tweeting Card. What’s a Tweeting Card? Glad you asked.

Tweeting Cards are the newest and hippest way to reach out to your friends and followers on Twitter. Simply pick a great PigSpigot card (or create your own!) and choose the “Tweeting Card” option from your list of sending choices.

Then all you have to do is personalize a message to include in your card and fill in both you and your recipient’s Twitter names. PigSpigot automatically generates an @reply Tweet (containing a bit.ly link to the card) that you can send out directly from our site.

One thing to keep in mind: unlike sending an e-card or a print card, when you send a Tweeting Card to someone over Twitter, all of your followers can see the card as well. Unless you’re an exhibitionist (which you might be – you’re using Twitter after all), it’s best to keep these cards a little less revealing than usual!