Go #badword# yourself duvet cover. Who the #badword# do you think you are? You think anybody anybody gives a #badword# about you? You're nothing. Look at yourself. You're a #badword#ing duvet cover. You can't control me. You can't get me upset. You're a pathetic flea on the ass of some syphillitic elephant in Borneo. You think your something. You get all bunched up at the corners. Completely unprovoked. Then you can't even get the blanket to distribute evenly. You laugh as I stand on the bed and flail around shaking the blanket trying to get it to even out you piece of #badword#. It. Never works. Then I discover that the long part is supposed to go the OTHER way but do you make it easy on me, no you're another 5 minute #badword#ing hassle of me trying to wrestle the blanket out of your flimsy ass folds and then 10 trying to line up the corners again the other way but then how do you get the blanket to extend all the way on each side between the corners? You CAN'T you candyass mother#badword#er because all your effort is gong into bunching the blanket up at the corners so when it's cold at night which it always is in this arctic nightmare then I grab at the blanket and it feels like I'm at the #badword#ing Mayberry county fair going goldfish bobbing in a vat of cottage cheese because the blanket is all bunched up again. #badword# you you #badword#er. I could burn your stupid ass right now and throw you out to the dogs or maybe you'd like to hang out with the moldy couches up under the harbor bridge or maybe I shall give you to the hotel down the street and you can spend your nights getting all bunched up for hookers. You think fleas are bad but wait till you feel the searing burn of the clap. that what you want you #badword#er???? I should kick your sorry ass now you're nothing to me. You're a #badword#ing blanket. You have nothing to live for. Youre at my total mercy. Go #badword# yourself.