From day one I’ve liked the idea of e-cards (but) for the longest time the companies that ran these sites didn’t really speak my language. They were perfectly fine places to find a cartoon baby holding a balloon but my grandmother has no idea how to use a computer and she would have never received my ‘thinking of you’ message.
I won’t spend too much time talking about Married to the Sea. The site uses (somewhat) Victorian era cartooning that it then adds captions to. It’s a classic format but it can be overly cerebral at times and I often find myself wondering if I just don’t get it or if it’s just not funny. I suppose Married to the Sea took a lot of it’s cues from The New Yorker. On the other hand, Someecards is a force to be reckoned with.
Warning: View with caution. Some work environments may find a lot of Someecards material highly inappropriate.
You can find your basic ‘get well soon’ fodder on this site but you will most likely stumble across the pages and pages of material (I suspect) Bob Saget submitted as “a little too inappropriate for his live show.” Everything goes though and I think that’s what I enjoy the most. Doubly enjoyable is fact that a while back they started allowing users to create their own cards. You can now use their cartooning and format to express your deepest (darkest, creepiest, funniest) thoughts and send them to your friends (boss, enemy, mistress) when you want to make them laugh (cry, faint, file a restraining order). It’s fantastic!
I use Someecards to the fullest extent. Some of the e-cards I create get sent to school friends that I hardly knew back in the day (and only see here and there on Facebook). Most e-cards though, I send to my special lady friend and kind of hope they never make it out of her in-box.
Anyway, here is a collection of my e-cards that fall into that “it‘s funny cause it‘s painfully true” category.
These e-cards are for all of us indie musicians, or those of us who know an indie musician, or those of us who have dated an indie musician (I feel for you), or maybe just those of us who suspect the guy in the mail-room plays bass.
OK, I can’t help it. I have to slip one in. I’m not a choir boy you know. I’m a musician. Seriously, what do you expect here?
See you soon,