Yo homies, Rubinman in da house, s’up? It’s been a long time since yoos last heard from me, but Amber’s “busy” today, so I’m all up in her blawg, to tell yoos about something that happened to me this week. Trust me, after yoos read this, yoos’ll be all, “Amber who? We wants the Rubinman to write the blawg from now on!” And yoos’ll be right.
Anyways, so it’s Monday lunchtime and I’m in the living room watching the “teevee” when Terry walks in with this box.
“Noo shooz!” sez Amber, jumping up off her seat. “Sumwun sent me noo shooz!”
But nope, for once that box didn’t contain shooz for Amber. That box was all for the Rubinman. It’s like, apparently the peoples at John Lewis decided to send me a gift, to, like, reward me for being all over the internets all the time or sumthin’? And I was like, “It’s about time I got sumthin out of Amber’s stupid blawg.” I mean, she’s been exploiting me for YEARS now, using my piktures to drive up her “hits”. She would deny it, but we all knows it’s true, because why else would anywun come here if it wasn’t for me?
Anyways, the box woulda been exciting enuff on its own, but Terry opens it, and it turns out its full of STUFF. First thing outta the box was this dude:
It’s a chikkin. I mean, Amber, she sez it’s really a duck, but I think I know a chikkin when I sees one?
“Who yoo callin’ a chikkin?” sez the duck.
“Well, I don’t see anywun else around here, so I guess it must be yoo, chikkin,” sez the Rubinman.
And then me n’ the chikkin fought to the death, and I totally wun.
Next outta the box came a squeaky bone:
Man, I luv a squeaky bone, I really do. I coulda squeaked that bad boy all day, except I couldn’t have, because next out of the box came THIS:
I call this “The Big Brown Thing”. I call it that becoz it’s big, and also it’s brown. Yoos can see why I’m better than Amber at this whole “blawg” bizniss, can’t you? Now, I don’t like to play favourites with my toys, except I totally DO, and The Big Brown Thing is now my favourite toy of all the toys. Becoz, it’s like, yoo can chew it to death, and you don’t even get a row or anything. Allow me to demonstrate:
I know, I’m really scary. I hope yoos don’t have nightmares after this.
So, after I’d had my fun, it was time for Amber to have hers:
a) Can this dog TAKE a bad photo, seriously?
b) Pink stripes? Bit sissy, no?
In response to that:
a) Yoos are right about this wun: the camera luvs me, what can I say?
b) Yoos are wrong about that wun, though, because pink stripes luv me too. For reals.
What I also got was, I got sum dog treats (LUV THEM), and I got some shampoo, which, like, I’m totally pretending doesn’t exist, because where there’s shampoo there’s also a baff, and I stick my tongue out at baffs. Literally, I mean:
No wun puts Rubinman in the baff. Except Terry and Amber, and sumtimes other people.
Anyways, that’s me shown you all my STUFF, so gotta bounce. Smell yas later,
RUBIN[Note from Amber: Thanks to John Lewis for providing Rubin with these treats: he was very appreciative, and I'm sure we'll ALL be appreciative of the shampoo once we actually give him that bath! If you want to buy any of these for your own wolf, you can find them here. There are more posts from Rubin, meanwhile, here.]