Wednesday, August 09, 2006

SIN BIN

This update comes to you live from the “Sin-bin”, where I’ve been remanded in custody by Terry after a day of total and utter BADNESS.

First there was the matter of Amber’s flowers. Well. Somehow during the night Amber had growed two flowers in the garden. Well, I don’t know how she did it, but they weren’t there the night before, and in the morning Amber was looking at them all smiley, so she must have growed them. Which was silly of her. I mean, they were right there in front of me – tall and obscenely orange. You know that thing people say about how dogs are colourblind? Crap. It’s just not true. If it was true, then those flowers wouldn’t have annoyed me this morning: I just wouldn’t have seen them, and if I hadn’t seen then, I wouldn’t have ran over to them and bit both their heads off before the orange-headed freaks knew what had hit them. Well Amber went crazy. Crazy like a LOON. She went so crazy that she totally distracted me from what I was supposed to be doing in the garden in the first place in the morning – the result being that I crapped on her bedroom floor while she was drying her hair. Well, you would have done the same.

I quietened down a bit during the day. Shredded up a newspaper while she was working right enough, but I reserved the real BADNESS for when Terry came home. Then I just went for it. I started making out like I needed a pee, so they had to keep getting me up and taking me out: then when I got outside I’d eat stones, sticks – even managed to pull a small BRANCH of one of their trees and eat it – anything except answer the call of nature. Finally they’d get bored of standing at the door watching me, so they’d go back inside – at which point I’d turn up and make like I needed a pee again. So frustrating for them! Finally they put me outside and told me to just get on with it. At which point the fat kid from next door turned up.

He turned up with a GUN. I kid you not. The fat kid was carrying a freakin’ gun. Well, what’s a wolf to do? Bearing in mind that it’s up to me to guard the house, I started barking my ass off. Then Terry appeared, wanted me to come inside. Like, no way! So I started running. I ran flat out round the garden. Round and round and round the garden, Terry chasing me the whole way. He wouldn’t give up, but neither would the Rubinman. I ran like that for like an HOUR, it was truly an awesome sight. Amber leaned out of the spare room window and laughed at Terry the whole time. He didn’t catch me: I’m fast like a JAGUAR. Finally I stopped to get me a drink of water, and Terry just, like, picked me up and put me in the Sin Bin. Hee, though! I rock!

Friday, June 09, 2006

The revolution WILL be televised. Also: blogged.

People, I have looked into the eyes of the enemy, and the enemy is green, plastic and noisy. Yup, you guesed it - it's lawnmowers*. I caught one of 'em in the back garden tonight. Killed it. Well, gave it a good shot anyway, I don't think THIS dude'll be back in a hurry:



Now, I don't want yoos all worryin' about this "lawnmower" situation. With the Rubinman in charge, we WILL defeat these plastic beasts. And it is totally NOT TRUE to say that after I seen the "lawnmower" I ran away and hid under my bed, and anyone who says that is a LIAR. So there.



*Why do I hate the lawnmowers so much? WHY? I mean, it's not like it's the freakin' POSTMAN or somethin'. God, sometimes I confuse even myself, you know...

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Thursday, June 08, 2006

Dogs in Vans = Baaaad Boys

We have new people next door. There's some guy who looks like Harry Potter, and there's a fat kid who's scared of me. Hee! I mean, I can't blame him really - I can be quite terrifying until you get to know me. You only have to look at me. Anyway, as soon as they moved in I went into the back garden and barked at them, let them know who's boss. It's best they start off knowing there's a WOLF next door...

So anyways, took Amber for a quick walk at lunchtime today because quite frankly she could be doing with the exercise, but god, what a nightmare...

We got to the end of the street. Everything was fine, Amber was safely attached to the string-thing, I'm having a good smell of everything. On the corner of the street was a van. In the driver's seat of the van was a dog. A HUGE dog. It was, like, the size of a BEAR or something. Well, as soon as it seen me, it went for me. It was barking, slobbering, throwing itself against the window, everything. What a freakin CLOWN! Hee! It obvioulsy felt really threatened by me, which is understandable, I mean, you only need to look at me...



Anyway, I may not know much, but I know that dogs who drive VANS are bad news. To start with I was like, "bring it on pal", but I had to think about Amber - I mean, I'd have happily taken it on, but Amber would have been scared (in fact, she looked quite scared anyway) so I did the only thing I could do in the circumstances - I turned and RAN. I turned and ran right into a WALL.

God, how embarrassing. I'm sure that freakin idiot was LAUGHING at me. Anyway, I managed to get Amber the hell out there, but our walk was ruined. Then it started to rain, so we went home. Amber was all, "oooh, Rubin, you were so brave, you're a good boy!" I was like, "whatever." But it was true.

technorati: bichon frise, dogs, puppy

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Fresh, minty, Rubiny goodness

In my time, I've often been described as a "dirty dog". Indeed, there are those who have described me as a "filthy dog", and still others who have called me a "BAAAAD BOY", or a "dirty wee b******d". But those people are WRONG my friends, for the Rubinman, he is as clean and as pure as the driven snow. I mean, I even brush my freaking TEETH:



I know what yoos are thinkin', by the way. Y'all are like, "no way is the Rubinman actually using that brush, he's just posing with it little a stupid sissy dog." But you are WRONG. See?



Ha! Watch me go! I hope this clarifies the whole "Just a dog" rumour that goes around about me, people. Oh yeah, you think I don't know, but let me tell you, the Rubinman knows ALL. I know, for example, that they are planning on sending me to "Las Vegas" for A&T's wedding, and y'know what? I'm starting to doubt that place even IS Las Vegas. It's like, I didn't see no Elvis when I was there, y'hear what I'm sayin'?

Anyway, just take note here: if I can brush my teeth like a human, you just don't know WHAT else the Rubinman can do. Just a thought for you.

So, not a lot happenin'. Terry still mad as a brush. He's, like, totally obsessed with my PAWS. "Give me a paw," he'll say, a few times a day. I mean, why? What does he want my paw for? "Get your own paw," I always feel like saying, but once I've handed over the paw he always make a big fuss of me, and sometimes I get a sweetie, so I put up with it. MAD, though. And another thing: what's with the whole "Sit - stand - lie down" routine that he keeps making me go through? I mean, you don't see me walking up to him and going, "Hi Terry - SIT! Now LIE DOWN!" do you? So why does he do it to me? Because he's MAD, that's why.

Smell ya's later, folks
Rubin

Monday, March 20, 2006

Rube Doggy Dogg

Sometimes some of yoos all question how dangerous the Rubinman is. Sometimes yoos wonder if I really WAS raised by wolves, or whether I'm just full of it. To those people, I say this:

(WARNING! Parental guidance advised!)


Click here for mad scary mooovy starring yours truly...