A Clarification, by Rubinman

A guest post, by Rubinman….
OK. I wasn’t going to say anything, because I didn’t really think it was my bizniss, but here’s the thing: Amber tells lies. Yes, she does. I mean, she’s not actually some red haired “blogger” girl, like claims. She’s an old, fat, bald guy from Essex. In fact, her name isn’t even Amber: it’s Clive.

Most of the time, I just let Clive get on with it. I’m like, “Whatevs, dude, yoo just keep on wearin’ the shoos and the ginger wig if it makes yoos happy, and we’ll see how long yoos get away with it.” Like I says, not my bizniss. But then, sometimes Amber Clive goes and MAKES it my bizniss, by writing about me in her “blawg”, and when that happens, well, the Rubinman gets MAD. Yoos won’t like it when the Rubinman is MAD, trust me.

So, just to set the record straight: that ” ooh, Rubin was sooooo scared of Terry’s costume, he ran away and hid like a big scaredy cat !” post? Yeah, like THAT would happen. Seriously, NUTHING scares the Rubinman. NUTHING. And Terry doesn’t scare ANYWUN. I mean, dude’s creepy and all, but he’s no Michael Flately, if you know what I mean, and I think yoos do:

Oh, hai, I'm Michael Flately. Fear me.

When I ran and got onto Clive’s knee that day, I was totally protecting her. Because Clive is a wuss, you know? So I was just like, “Don’t worry, Clive, your trusty woolf is here to save the day!” And what thanks do I get? LIES. That’s whut I get.

Also, the whole “Rubin totally wore a blonde wig this one time” thing? Uh-uh. Let’s just say Photoshop is an amazing thing, OK? Actually, let’s not: let’s just say that was a totally different dog in them piktures. Because it was. In fact, it wasn’t a dog at all, it was a WOOLF. It was this woolf, aktually:

Oh, hai, I'm a woolf. I look just like Rubin, no?

It was in sheep’s clothing at the time. They totally do that sumtimes. I got it to sign a statement, though, saying it was the wun in the wig. Here it is:

“Hello, it’s a big scary woolf here. I’m writing this just to let yoos know it was me in the wig that time, not Rubin. Rubin is too tuff to wear a wig. We woolfs are all scared of him, we wear wigs to disguise ourselves. Also, Clive tells lies.

love,
A Woolf”

So, there yoos go, case closed. Don’t listen to Clive. Rubin is the only wun yoos can trust.

Smell yas,

RUBIN

Oh, Clive. Like you could ever catch the Rubinman…

Hi, I'm Amber. I'm a full-time fashion/shoe blogger from the UK, and this is the story of my life, my clothes, and the International Man of Mystery Next Door. You can read more from me at my other blogs, The Fashion Police and Shoeperwoman, and you can follow me on Bloglovin' here.

8 Comments

  • Reply November 3, 2010

    Arlene

    I’ll be needing a Tena Lady if Rubinman keeps this up .ROFL!!!

    • Reply November 3, 2010

      Amber

      Ha, don’t worry, I think the tumbleweed blowing through the comments section will put him off for a little while at least!

  • Reply November 3, 2010

    Terry

    lol :)

  • Reply November 4, 2010

    maz, aka MallyMon

    Another great laugh, thanks Rubin! (PS you’re not originally from the Newcastle area are you? Just thought I could detect a Geordie twang there.)(I love a Geordie twang!)

  • Reply November 11, 2010

    Georgiegirrl1

    Rubin You are one scary Woolf!!

  • Reply May 13, 2011

    MsVeve

    I cannot believe I had missed this post back in November. Awesome. Pure awesomeness. This brought tears of laugther to my eyes, love ya Rubin!

  • Reply August 18, 2011

    Tiny D

    Oh my God I’m actually crying. This is HILARIOUS. More from Rubin please!

  • Reply January 9, 2013

    Janine

    HAHAHAHA this ha soooo brightened up my afternoon. Rubin you should sue!!! All those lies!!! All those unflattering photos posted by Clive.

    I dig you (Rubin)man

    Janine xx

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