Monday, August 29, 2005



Actually, I'm going to just come clean: I got TWO ponkies, and the reason I got two ponkies was that the first one... well, the first one was an IMPOSTOR Ponky. For real.

I blame myself. My Norma had gone to "Ikea" with A&T, and she brought back this dude:

Not a Ponky

Now, I admit it, I got carried away. There was a rush to judgement. Soon as I seen it: pink, big ears, smilin', I was just like, "Oh man, a PONKY!" I couldn't BELIEVE it, and, well, basically I was right not to believe it, because it wasn't a freakin ponky at all - it was a RABBIT.

Yeah, yeah, I know what y'all are thinkin. Yoos are all, "easy mistake to make, Rubinman - I mean, who HASN'T seen a rabbit and thought it was a donkey?" Well, sure, YOU LOT could easily make the mistake, but for a professional like myself to confuse a rabbit with a PONKY - well, that's just shameful.

I mean, it's not the Ponky's rabbit's fault. By the time I realised he was Not a Ponky, I'd been throwin that dude all over the place, chasin him, playing with him - me n' him were like THAT. So I decided to keep him, and everything was cool, and then today... today Terry gets in his "car" and drives away, and the next thing I know, he's back with THIS:

Pink Donkey = PONKY

Now, THAT's a Ponky for ya. That there is a REAL Ponky. If ever you need to know whether you got yourself a PONKY or a rabbit, you just check out this here picture and that'll tell you for sure. (And don't say I'm not good to you. Where else could you get free advice on Ponky-spotting? Only from the Rubinman...) I couldn't BELIEVE it! I mean, on Friday I had NO PONKIES and now I have TWO! I bet there's not a single one of you can say that. Obviously Terry had been Ponky-hunting. Who woulda thunk it? I had no idea he even knew where to find a ponky. Hee! I totally rule. Me an m'ponkies.

Me an m'ponkies

Don't even LOOK at my ponkies. They're MY ponkies. Rubinman does not share!

Ponky Play
MY ponkies...

Saturday, August 13, 2005

FREE Rubin!*

Dudes, Bob Dylan has wrote a song about me.

This is my favourite bit:

"Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
It’s my work, he’d say, and I do it for pay
And when it’s over I’d just as soon go on my way"

Yeah. He totally GETS me, you know? Me n' Bob, we're like THAT. No one has ever understood me like Bob does. I mean, it's like, I'll do a crap in the kitchen, you know? But will I boast about it? Nosir**. It's my work, I say, and I do it for pay. And when it's over I'd just as soon be on my way.

I'm, like totally overwhelmed. I mean, obviously it was just a matter of time before someone wrote a song about the Rubinman, but I had no idea that Dylan was a fan. I'm thinkin of sending him the Purple Puppet as a token of my appreciation, but I'm worried that then he might write a song about the PP and take some of the spotlight away from yours truly. Whaddya think?

Anyway, I'm very much heartened by this development. With people like Dylan carrying the flame for me, I can't help but feel that soon I will be totally busted out of AZKABAN and this journal will be used as proof of my suffering. I'll be a LEGEND man. Me n' Bob. I'm just wondering who else will join the fight to clear my name? I'm thinkin probably Sting. I'm thinkin Sting will write a song, and let me tell you, if Sting does that it's totally NOT MY FAULT. So don't even say anything.

Actually, now I come to think of it, it's strange that Sting and Bob Geldof haven't been around by now, wanting to hold a benefit concert or somethin' for me. I mean, they did it for Nelson Mandela, and me n' him are in, like, EXACTLY the same situation: both of us wrongly imprisoned for peeing on the kitchen floor, both persecuted for our beliefs (my beliefs: dogs should be able to pee on kitchen floors; Mandela's beliefs: um, dunno, but probably the same), both black***…

Sing it with me, people:

"Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell.
That’s the story of the hurricane,
But it won’t be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he’s done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he coulda been
The champion of the world. "

* With every purchase. Conditions apply.
* *Sometimes I totally WILL boast about it, though.
** Except me, obviously. I'm white, but it's, like, the same thing.

Sleeping dog, lying
"An innocent man, in a living hell…"

Friday, August 12, 2005

feet wheels

OK, so I hesitate to mention this, but somethin's been buggin me.

It's Amber.

It's like, sure, she bugs me MOST of the time: take that as read. But lately...oh man... Lately every time we go out for a walk - EVERY time - she straps these stupid wheels onto her feet, like a big sissy. She calls them "rollerblades". I call them "Stupid lubbish feet wheels". Now, trust me, I know what you're thinkin. I'm thinkin it too. It's like, there's me: white, fluffy (still WOLF like, though), runnin. Then there's her: feet wheels, hair blowing in the wind, rollin'.

Yeah, we look like a freakin Tampax advert.

"Aiiiiieeeeeeee! Booooodyfooooorrrmmm! Bodyform for yoooouuu!" THAT'S what I think now every time I go on my walk. EVERY time. Stupid lubbish song playin in my head every time I try to take a crap. "Aiiiiiieeeeeee!" It has RUINED it for me.

Oh man, I have SO got to bust out of this place. It's not like I haven't been tryin, either. Like, last week I started to dig me a hole: I was totally going to burrow under the fence and bust out, but no. They seen me, and they were all, "Baaad Rubin! Baaad!" Idiots.

I would try leavin under cover of darkness, but of course they have me confined to Azkaban every night. Unbelievable. I mean, to lock a noble, wolf-like creature like myself in a CAGE is just unforgivable. And WHY, for the love of Dog? WHY? What purpose does it serve? I mean, sure I peed on the kitchen floor every night in life before they banished me to Azkaban. Sure I did. And yeah, there may have been the odd crap or three along the way too. SO? What of it?

Nah, I don't think that's it. I think they just put me there because, it's like, I'm so scary and stuff and they don't want me roaming free at night in case I savage them in their beds or something. Which, by the way? I totally WOULD.

I am SO breakin' free. Azkaban is one thing, but these stupid feet wheels are just the final straw. I will NOT stay here to be made to look like a stupid sissy dog. I'm not the freakin' Andrex puppy, you know! Uh-uh. The Rubinman wouldn't be caught DEAD lookin' like a sissy. No way.


Thursday, August 11, 2005

Pepeman go home

The Pepe bit Amber. I couldn't BELIEVE it! "Pepe, man," I said, "the first rule of fight club is you NEVER bite Amber, for hers is that hand that feeds you." He was all, "hello, pretty boy!" so I don't think he was listening. He says that ALL the time, though. I mean, you should see him with Terry! He's ALL OVER him. Terry's like, "Where's my darlin'?" and the Pepe goes, "hello pretty boy!" It's SICK if you ask me. Then Terry lets the Pepe sit on his shoulder, like he's some kind of crazy pirate or something. MENTAL.

Speaking of things that are MENTAL, I peed in my bed last week and Amber hit the roof. It wasn't my fault, though - the Pepe made me do it. He was getting all the attention that was rightfully mine. I just did what I had to do, and by god, I'd do it again!

Anyway, not long after The Biting, the Pepe went away. Now, I'm not sayin that the two incidents were connected, but, like, they totally were!

Buh-bye lubbish Pepeman! We all know you really weny away because the Rubinman scared you! Ha!


(p.s. I totally know what you're thinkin when you look at that picture of me, and the answer's "yes". Yes, my eyes ARE filled with fiery hate. Ho yes, you better believe it. Don't cross the Rubinman!)

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

One Purple Puppet to Rule Them All

So, as most of you know, I have me a LOT of fans, and sometimes my fans like to send me stuff, like to appease me. (Note: ONE TIME this has happened. ONE TIME. It's like, what is WRONG with you people? Do you want a happy Rubinman or a vengeful Rubinman? Yeah, well, dig deep then.)

This entry concerns my favourite fan, who I will call "Margaret", because, like, that's her name. Anyway, Margaret was reading this entry, which is the one where I was all about the Purple Puppet, and Margaret was like, "Ha! Call that a Purple Puppet? I'LL show you a Purple Puppet!" And so she did. And oh man, lookit! :

Rubin meets the Purple Puppet

It's a Purple Puppet! But better than that – it's THE Purple Puppet. The One Puppet. My Precious. That other one? The Not-So-Purple-After-All Puppet? That dude is SO last week. Now me and the PP, we ROCK.

Rubin meets the Purple Puppet

Purple Puppet's all, "Lookit m'hair, man! Checkit!"
Rubinman's like, "I am NOT scared of you Purple Puppet, I'm just, like, shy or somethin')

Rubin meets the Purple Puppet

NOT scared of the Purple Puppet! No way, uh-uh. Not me, the Rubinman. Anyone who tells you different is cruising for a bum biting.

So yeah, that's why you haven't seen much of me this week. I've been hiding from playing with the Purple Puppet, who is totally going to break me out of AZKABAN. For real.

Smell ya,

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Rubin from the Block

Sing it with me: Don't be fooled by the toys that I got/ I'm still, I'm still Rubin from the block... Hell yeah I am.

So, the other night I get back from visiting my Norma and John, and all my OLD toys - i.e. the ones that AREN'T Purple Puppets - were waitin for me, and let me tell you, those dudes were NOT happy. They were all, "Rubin, man, you've totally forgotten your roots. You're all about the Purple Puppet now, what about US, the toys you grew up with?" Then they go, "we put you up there, dude, and we can totally bring you back down again, what are you without us, yadda yadda."

Let's just get one thing straight here: the Rubinman has NOT forgotten where he came from. I may be "all that" now, and I may have a Purple Puppet and a totally spanky red coat, but I'm still, I'm still Rubin from the block. Just to prove it, here's a little tribute to my homies:

This is my main man Buddy, my oldest pal and right hand dog:

Now, I know what y’all are thinkin. You’re all, like, “Buddy, he don’t look too good.” Yeah, well let me tell you, Buddy is WAY old: when I first arrived here in the 'hood (if you remember, I was ADOPTED by A&T when I was a mere 8 weeks old) Buddy was right here waitin for me. Amber often tells the story of how they were so excited about my arrival that they'd sit Buddy in my bed and, like, pretend he was me and stuff. And that right there tells you pretty much all you need to know about Amber...

Anyway, yeah, so Buddy... Buddy's been there with me through thick and thin. He was there with me when I went to Las Vegas, and he was there with me when I peed on Terry's shirt that time. (In fact, Terry? Buddy MADE me do that. It wasn't me, IT WAS BUDDY) I love my Buddy. Nevertheless, I still totally ripped his eyes and nose off. SO?!

This is me with my Mickey Hand:

My Mickey hand snuck into my Norma and John's suitcase when they were in the "Yew Ess Ay" one time, and it came all the way across the ocean to be with me. It's, like, a hand, and it squeaks. Who WOULDN'T love that?

Yeah, so this is Dead Head:

He, like, lives lives in the garden and stuff. This one time? I totally forgot that Dead Head was livin out in the garden, and I almost CRAPPED myself when I seen him. I am NOT scared of Dead Head though, because I am a WOLF. For real.

This is my PINK COW:

The pink cow is a mysterious, shady character. I say this mainly on account of the Time the Pink Cow VANISHED and was later discovered IN TERRY’S WARDROBE. How did it get there? Was the Pink Cow abducted by aliens? Did it walk there itself? Is there something Terry isn’t telling us? Dudes, we may never know.

I've got other toys, but I don't want to make you too jealous, so I'll sign off now. But remember : I used to have a little, now I gotta lot/ no matter where he goes Rubinman knows where he came from....


Tuesday, August 02, 2005

I've got something you've not got!

I’ve got something you’ve not got! I got a PURPLE PUPPET! Man, I bet you’re all totally jealous. No wonder I look smug:

purple puppet

(That thing right behind me, by the way? The CAGE? That’s what Amber and Terry call my “Den” and I call “Azkaban.” That’s where I live now. The nice, COW print bed I’m sitting in here? Just for show. So that Amber and Terry can pretend like they don’t make me the prisoner of AZKABAN every night. Muppets.)

Anyway, in not-so-good news, we have a GREEN THING living in our spare room -->


For those of you who've never seen one, it's called a "Pepe" and you get them from Terry's mum's house. My advice is to not get one, though, because they're, like, really, really annoying. A & T are always talking to it for one thing and - get this - it TALKS BACK to them. It talks complete LUBBISH, of course, but still... when it does it A&T look all pleased, like the Pepe's been dead clever or something. Like, big deal! I talk ALL the time. Yesterday I barked like a maniac for five minutes straight and what do I get? "Baaaad Rubin! Baaaad!." Hmph. I even heard Amber telling the Pepe it was a "pretty boy" yesterday. OK, I'M the pretty boy around here, lets get that straight. I do NOT appreciate being usurped by a Pepe. No way. Stupid lubbish bird.


Monday, August 01, 2005


So, dug me a hole the other day.

It was a great hole, you should've seen it - I may be just a little dog, but I dig a mean hole, I really do. So there I am, hole dug, chewstick already burried (one I prepared earlier hehe) and I go and start collecting my stuff to bury in The Hole. I get them all lined up nice and neat at the side of it: Teddy, Buddy, Freezebone, and my ball. I can see Amber and Terry talking in the kitchen, but they haven't seen me ha! So I'm just about to start getting my stuff buried, and I see a bit of The Hole that's not quite right.

I had to go all the way in to get it sorted (I told you it was a big hole) and while I'm down there I start to hear this noise...

So, I haul ass out of the hole, and there they are. Amber and Terry, and they're going freaking crazy! Terry especially; I mean, you'd have thought it was his Freezebone I'd buried. Like, take a chill pill, pal! They were both all annoyed, waving their arms around and making noises like those Sims Amber's always playing with. They wouldn't let me back near the hole. I took off round the garden, doing my "running really fast like a bullet on speed" thing to confuse them, but when I stopped, Terry had filled in the hole! I think Buddy and Teddy got washed after that as well, but I'm not sure. I've got them all dirtied back up again now, but I'm still quite gutted about the hole. Now they're watching me so much it's like being in the Big Brother house. Haven't had a chance to dig me another hole yet. But I will. Watch this space.