Are we hamming it up?
Y’ talkin’ 'bout my Harley?
Does it ever get any porking tickets?
Do you think anyone’s got the chops to tag my hog?
So no one would squeal on you?
Does that mean you shall reap what you sow?
You callin’ me an old boar, now?
Would you prefer to be called Miss Piggy?
Don’t you think Madame Pepperwinkle might object if you did? And do you know that you might defraud the Demiurge, but you can’t trick a Gnosis?
So you’re saying, Mr. Piggy, that I can flimflam you platonically, but I can’t trick your big brain?
Are these the days of swine and roses?
Duroc stars drink that swill?
Am I too late to add questions of a porcine variety?
Sow what are you asking?
Did your pig come down with laryngitis and become disgruntled?
If I decide to grow a beard, do I need to give my razorback?
Why do I feel hog-tied around such brilliance? 
Does anyone else feel like whenever they try to leave this thread, they keep getting pulled bacon?
Did Mario Puzo write The Godfather in seven days?
May we award Eutychus the Page 156 prize for funniest post?