"What Duvet Said..." Now on Mevio.com...Or, World Domination On The Menu For Duvet...Alternate Or, Despite Themselves WDS Continues To Expand...SUPER SECRET Or, This Podcast Will One Day Be Remembered As A Podcast!!

Hurricane Irene wasn't the only story making news this past week, as perennial podcasting favorite "What Duvet Said..." made its debut on Mevio.com. Mevio.com is described as:

"MEVIO hosts networks of personality-driven episodic entertainment to best engage our customers-comprised of viewers, producers, advertisers and partners. MEVIO is one of the fastest growing entertainment sites on the web. We're guided by an A-list of venture capital and thought leadership, including the investors that brought you Google and a management team that brought top shows, hits and releases to consumers. MEVIO is backed by leading venture capital firms Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, Sequoia Capital, Sherpalo Ventures, DAG Ventures and Crosslink Capital. MEVIO has over forty shows in production, ranging from technology to comedy and general entertainment. We currently have an audience of over six million monthly unique visitors and are ranked by comScore as a top twenty site for both general entertainment and music. Our top networks include technology, music, women's and men's content." (taken from www.mevio.com)

The move signifies WDS's (the fledgling network and parent company of the "What Duvet Said..." podcast and blog) commitment to expand its reach and market share - even with no apparent demand or public outcry to do so. WDS's "El Duce" and CEO Bob Duvet is expected to make an announcement later in the week stating plans for not only the Podcasting division but also the TV, Publishing, and Pet Apparel branches of his nascent media empire. The move sent shockwaves through "the street" sending many traders into a frenzy trying to find out why they should care? WDS stock surely would have soared had there actually been shares available. This is the latest in a series of positive signs which included a rare appearance by Mr. Duvet on a recent episode of "Succotash: The Comedy Podcast, Podcast".

Some have questioned if WDS might be expanding too fast in a sluggish economy but many industry insiders cite Mr. Duvet's sluggish approach to CEO-ing as cause for being bullish on the future of the network. WDS and Bob Duvet can't get out of their own way..." one unidentified Wall Street insider stated, "...and that is the perfect position to take in this market, just look at how well it seems to be working for congress." The announcement will also be expected to coincide with a spate of hiring in all divisions, particularly in the publishing side of WDS where Them Magazine and the "What Duvet Said..." blog are expected to be offering unpaid internships to "HOTT" female college students revealed in a recently leaked memo to the nonexistent shareholders. Some speculators speculate that the move to Mevio.com might be, "much ado about nothing". But, Mr. Duvet has stood by his previous claims to do nothing and it seems to be paying off. The "What Duvet Said..." podcast, which features programming as diverse as "What Duvet Said...About Music" and "The Tank with Rob Celli & Jason Duplissea" has been attracting serious buzz among the music and entertainment communities, with many performers, industry "bigwigs", and flaks clamoring to get on the show - which recently celebrated its one-year anniversary. Below is a list of guests and performers who have appeared on the podcast over the course of the past year.

Chelsea Hobbs - actress most recently seen on ABC Family's "Make It Or Break It"

Alicia Witt - actress and musician

Josie Loren - actress most recently seen on ABC Family's "Make It Or Break It"

Joy Nordenstrom - CEO of Joy of Romance and noted matchmaker/relationship expert

White Arrows - band

Tamaryn - band

Sean Boling - author and pop culture authority

Julie Mann - actress, comedian and pop culture authority

Holly Sorensen - creator, executive producer, writer of ABC Family's "Make It Or Break It"

The Soft Moon - band

True Widow - band

Brandy Kuentzel - NBC's "The Apprentice" season 10 winner

Robert Ellis - musician

Caitlin Rose - musician

Tristen - musician

Daniel Pujol - musician

The Shining Twins - band

Tim Cohen - musician (The Fresh & Onlys, Magic Trick, solo)

Kristina Kell - contestant on CBS's "Survivor: Redemption Island"

Rita Verreos - contestant on CBS's "Survivor: Fiji"

Olin & The Moon - band

Ill Mondo - producers/musicians

Tyanna Alvarado - NBC's "The Apprentice" season 10 contestant

Shilpa Ray & Her Happy Hookers - band

Ethan Lipton - musician

Year of the Tiger - band

Holly Long - musician

Molly Bryant - musician

Bob Duvet Reveals Identity On “Succotash, The Comedy Podcast Podcast”… Or, Pass The Pinwheels, Bob Duvet Comes Clean...STILL MORE OR, Hershon Gets The Get Of The Decade, Then Loses That One And Has Bob Duvet On As Last Minute Replacement!!

That’s right Duvetians, when asked to co-host and help curate the latest episode of “Succotash, The Comedy Podcast Podcast” hosted by, the internationally recognized Marc Hershon, the normally reclusive and vaguely French Duvet, revealed his true identity. “Succotash” is a comedy podcast “round-up” featuring clips from some of podcasting’s nether regions. Previous guests on the show have included Dana Carvey, Rick Overton, Mark Pitta, and Will Durst.

The shadowy Duvet has been reluctant to appear in public due to an underwhelming demand for his appearing in public. The recalcitrant Duvet was coaxed out of hiding by Hershon last week to help curate episode 8.  Plied with Smirnoff vodka and Nabisco Pinwheel cookies, both substances Duvet has had a storied past with, he entered Sausilito’s Studio P where “Succotash” is recorded.  Duvet emerged from a dirty, black, late-model Mazda disguised in a Quick Draw McGraw furry outfit in a bid to maintain his anonymity. Inside the scene was described as, “awkward…very, very awkward.” by Duvet mouthpiece Robert Celli. At one point producer Joe Paulino had to come between “Succotash” announcer Bill Heywatt and Duvet who had apparently both been partners in a disastrous business scheme seeking to create a chain of bathhouses in the mid-seventies.  The chain, “Bob & Bill’s Bathtopia”, was slapped with several health code violations and shuttered its doors after the worst plumbing disaster in recorded history at the inaugural opening night party. The two were later spotted standing in front of the sites of several former fern bars visibly reeling from the effects of the potent Pinwheel and vodka concoctions. San Francisco convenience store owners later confirmed having seen a run on their shelves of both products between the hours of midnight and 5am. Police are reviewing surveillance footage purely for their own amusement.

The show itself was handled deftly by Hershon who has dealt with several jackasses wearing furry jackass costumes in his long career in entertainment. When asked how he was able to get the tight-lipped Duvet to open up on his show Hershon simply stated, “vodka…and a loaded pistol.” Some of the podcasts Duvet sited as useful supplements to his involvement in the Church of Scientology were “Good Clean Fun”, “The S&M Rants”, “Gee & Jay Radio Show”, “Paul F. Tomcast”, “Comedy Bang Bang” and “Comedy Accident”. For access to this rare and uncalled for appearance click here!  And here! Oh, and over……HERE!

Bob Duvet Investigates What Inspires A Man? Or, Music Is In The Ear Of The Beholder.

“What inspires a man?” Bob wondered, as he drove the nail through the plywood he had placed horizontally across his front door. “There, that oughta do it.” He thought, pleased with himself. Inspiration should always begin with, “keeping the wolves at bay” and he had done a piss poor job of that lately. Worse still the wolves he heard howling at his door were more like domesticated Dingos, hardly wolves at all anymore. Just some trace elements left in a DNA code that had been bred out by the constant encroachment of humanity. “AH! Humane society, indeed!” he spoke as one might having reached an epiphany, then realizing there was no one there to share it with. He moved away from the doorway to survey his work, admire the construction and ponder the placement of the next wooden slab. On the carpet below his feet sat an empty glass that still breathed the faint remnants of charcoal and peet. Raising a hammer and methodically orienting a nail he penetrated the wood emitting a ricochet clap. The faded and slightly rusted coffee tin holding the nails rattled in time with the blow. “I’m making music again” a smile creeping across its authors face. SLAP! This one a bit more piercing, with less reverb, but just as tuneful, again the nails lent their shimmer. The hall echoed with the clang of hardened steel softening against the wood tuned with paint. Some inspirations require a little blunt force, Bob thought as he once again raised the hammer next to his ear. The crack of the hammerhead greeting the galvanized surface of the nailhead shook through the corridor. As the soundwaves faded into silence, Bob took a step back. He viewed the asymmetrical wood planks crisscrossing the entryway into his apartment, turned and began walking down the hall into the kitchen. No longer inspired he, he sat down in his chair, laced his fingers together and stared blankly at his computer screen. That wonderful song still playing in his ears.

Everybody’s Talking At Me…Karaoke Night In The Hood! Or, Living On A Dream! Secret Or, It's The Fernet Talking...

OH OH! You're halfway there...

“Hey man!” a voice greeted Bob just as he was crowning the threshold of the door; born into the bar he braced himself for another meaningless conversation. The environs were indistinguishable from the thousands of other “Irish” bars that litter American cities. Places that seem premade and ready to ship once a liquor license is obtained and drunks have been secured. The only thing imported in this particular “Paddy Palace” was the female cousin of the owner who found herself in San Francisco on “holiday” and was dutifully standing behind the lacquered barrier. “Hey Bob!” the voice rang from just over his back shoulder as he continued his journey down the length of the bar, pass empty stools and just as empty regulars. He pivoted to acknowledge what he privately hoped would just disappear. The succession of words making up the sentences that were sure to follow would undoubtedly engage him in another vacuous and pointless exchange. The kind of seemingly endless interactions his life consisted of when he dared venture from the security of his one-bedroom compound. Bob felt the recoil of a smile involuntarily command his face as he reached his hand out to complete the tired gestures of incidental greetings. The only component that made this the least bit exciting was the anticipation of getting the greeting down right. “Clasp hands while pulling the subject inward into a half hug followed by a fist bump to the top of the subject’s back”, he thought to himself, “I think that’s where this greeting is heading.” He had been in the neighborhood too long. He viewed everything, including spontaneous greetings, with a clinical detachment. He felt like a resident doctor eager to test his knowledge of diseased social protocols. The exchange went poorly because he had misdiagnosed the patient, who clearly wanted to do that thing where palms interlock culminating into a fist bump explosion. That’s why he hated all of it. “So, Bob, you gonna sing tonight?”, the talking started. “I’ve been here since noon for the soccer game, I’m WASTED!...I should probably eat something other than Fernet! HA! HA!”, he laughed, sending bits of spit just over Bob’s shoulder. “I might get up and do a song...” he continued. “Yea, you know what you should do? Do you?...Motley Crue!...How’s that one tune go? You know, I’m a dreama..” words rattled off like a Gatling gun. With each sentence it felt like more rounds were being pumped into his body – like in the movies when gangsters shoot their victims so many times the person is stood upright flailing in place before collapsing in a heap. “I need to get something to eat or I’m not gonna make it…FUCK IT! I’ll just have Fernet! HA!...Were you here last night? It was CRAZY! We were getting all kinds of FUCKED UP!” the excited voice raising to match and eventually trump the group of twenty-something girls caterwauling through “Living On A Prayer”. Each trying to pull the microphone closer to their mouths simultaneously, while mimicking the moves of their own imagined stripper past. “Yea, you should sing some FUCKING CRUE DUDE!!”, the voice enthused never noticing that Bob had already turned away and retreated in the main room. “Why do I come down here anyway?” Bob wondered as he intently began flipping the pages of the red vinyl-covered karaoke book laid out at the table in front of him. Maybe he would do Motley Crue after all.  

To Delve, Wade, Or Wallow: Bob Duvet Investigates Silence…Or, Another De-Railed Train Of Thought.

Another sunny, silent day...

“I’m really swimming in it now…” Bob thought for a moment as his right hand guided the white mouse across its grey, rubber landscape. He noticed his reflection distorted and misshapen on the glossy surface beneath his fingertips, like he had entered a house of mirrors at some county fair. It is in these moments we catch glimpses of our true selves, guilty, depraved, searching for comfort in images and release from our habitual nature. The music playing in the background was all wrong. A distraction. A reminder of the impermanence of everything he spent his days putting value on - just another band in a multitude of bands with ironic titles, pleasant sounding enough but inconsequential and distracting. He needed silence, or the “new silence” as he liked to think of it. It was as much silence as someone can expect living in a city, the constant hum of broken people trying to fix a broken world running like a distant motor propelling it forward. Silence, true silence, didn’t exist for anyone anymore. Perhaps, it never did exist at all. There was always something, some sound emanating from somewhere ready to muck up the silence, to distract. A plane flying overhead was no different for him than the trickle of a stream for somebody else. He couldn’t believe that this would prove no less maddening to that person than these sounds were to him in a similar moment of reflection. Just because nature produced them made them no less vile in that moment when one craves perfect silence. Bob hung his head as he came to realization that this “silence” never existed. It could never be obtained. Even in death there was probably some gnawing buzz that permeates the afterlife, there always had to be something fighting to be heard. A fucking refrigerator or the happy giggle of tourists coming across a landmark that inspired them to come to this fucking place and stand outside his window. To interrupt a silence that never really existed. The word no longer was necessary because what it defined never really was. He could prove it just by sitting still and waiting for some clang or bang, hum, buzz, click, rustle, or breath that was held for too long inside him to shatter what he once new as “silence”. He couldn’t even keep himself silent he thought, as he tried to remember what sent him down this thought path? Oh! Snapped out of the loll of introspection he typed, “girls with big tits” into the search engine box.