Oh man, wait till I tell you what I did last night! You will be, like, SO impressed!
So, as y’all know, because they are as mad as fish, Amber and Terry like to confine me to Azkaban of an evening. Well, Sting and Bob Geldof never did turn up to FREE ME, so for months now I have been forumulating a plan – a plan that I cunningly put into action last night.
Last night, you see, was “windy”, and I don’t mean in the “OMG, Rubinman, have you farted again?” kind of way. No, it, was, like, a STORM, and as I sat there, deep within the confines of AZKABAN, listening to the wind howl around the house, I knew that my time had come. It was time for the Rubinman to be free, and to take his rightful place in the BIG BED – Amber and Terry’s basket, upstairs.
Well, I started barking. Every time the wind howled, the Rubinman howled with it. I barked and I barked until I was actually starting to annoy even myself. I knew it would be worth it, though. I knew it would get a reaction, and, sure enough, after not very long, Terry showed up. Man, he was MAD. He was, like, totally shouting and saying BAD WORDS at me like a crazymad thing, so what I did was, I shut up until he was on his way back to his basket, and then I started it up again. And again. And again. God, it was the best performance of my life. Terry was getting madder by the moment, but I knew that within twenty minutes I’d be upstairs and I’d be in that there BIG BED right along with Them.
I gave myself thirty minutes to break him. It only took about ten. Before I knew what was happening, I was upstairs. He had brung my bed with him, but, like I was going to sleep on the floor! No way, man. I just waited until he lay down, then I jumped out and ran round the bedroom like a madman, popping my head up every now and then – POP!
Within minutes, I had achieved my goal. I was picked up and allowed to sleep in the BIG BED, and, it’s like, that’s where I’ll be sleeping from now on, dudes. I just need to work out how to get A&T out of the way – let them sleep in Azkaban from now on, see how they like it.
Anyway, enough of this. Before I go, though, I just want to clear something up. Quite a lot of yoos have been askin’ me lately if I really write the blawg myself. Yoos are all, “You’re a dog, dude, you can’t type, I bet Amber writes it for you!” Well, yoos are WRONG. This here blawg is all my own work, and to prove it, here is a picture of me “blogging”. As you can see, got me a GREAT BIG keyboard, so’s I can type. SO THERE.
Smell yas, dudes!