Sure, you could say we’re fans of the acclaimed Doodle Duvet Cover. That’s certainly one way to describe us. You could also do our ambitions justice and note that we “might” have ordered a gross of these massive 200-thread-count Turkish cotton bed coverings, drawn up plans to stitch them together side-by-side, and paid a dozen orphans in Red Bull and kittens to hand-transcribe our Rue McClanahan erotic fiction using each duvets 10 double-sided washable pens.
Yes, we’re aware that the whole point of the Doodle Duvet Cover is to draw and write whatever we please in comfort with the knowledge that our creativity comes right out of its giant file-paper margins in the wash. Yes, we have accepted that our opus will forever be one tragic spin cycle from being forever lost. We are fully aware that there are more practical ways to go about this…but there is only one “right” way. How did a certain sultry southern “Golden Girl” become the muse of smut committed to a blanket of composition paper, anyway?
Well, it all started back when we were orphans. One day, a strange man in an alley behind a 7-11 promised us all the Jolt cola we could drink and a puppy per child if we would just spin a saucy yarn about Estelle Getty….
