Tuesday, January 17, 2006

No one puts Rubinman in the corner...

So, let's talk about Sunday… Anyone feel like they maybe forgot somethin this Sunday? Like, maybe the Rubinman's BURFDAY mebbe? Anyone at all?

To be honest, I'm disappointed in yoos all. There I was, the burfday boy, three years old (which means I'm BIG now. Bigger than you for a start, so you just watch it, pal) and just sittin there waiting for my presents, and what do I get? NOTHING. I get nothing.

OK, I did get something. I got somethin from Amber and Terry, but, like, it took them until MIDDAY to even remember, which I think is pretty bad. Mind you, once they did remember, they did the right thing: they got right into that "car", they headed out, and they bought me stuff.

Stuff they bought me:

Two "bones"
Three "chews"
Like, about a MILLION "goodboys".

My Norma and John? Nothin. Still haven't seen hide nor hair of them two, and you know what I think? I think they're SCARED, and so they should be. They better get me stuff this weekend, that’s all I can say. They better, like, get me a car or somethin. That's three times now I've been slighted like this, and the Rubinman does NOT like being slighted, let me tell you. In fact, you know what I did that night? What I did that night was I crapped on the kitchen floor, and what I also did was pee on it. Ha!

Anyways, I thought seeing as I'm the burfday boy I’d give yoos all a little "Rubin retrospective" kinda thing (see, I'm the birthday boy, and yet I'm the one giving you stuff. I mean, that’s just me all over really). So, this is me when A&T first got me. This was just after I'd been raised by the wolves:




Look at me! Like a mental ball of fluff! I was, like, so small you could've just picked me up in your hand. You totally would NOT have been wise to do that, though, because I totally would have bit your face off if you had. Like I said, this was right after I'd been raised by the wolves, and those wolves said to me, they said, "Fang," (because, like, that was my wolf name. "Fangman") "Fang," they said, "You listen to us, son, anyone tries to pick you up in one hand, you bite their face off, you hear?" So yeah, that's what I would've done.

This is how small I was:



Couldn't even get up that "wooden hill" myself. Hard to believe it now that I'm so huge and fierce, but there you go…

This is how like a stuffed toy wolf I was:




If you look really closely, you can see that I'm not ACTUALLY a wolf. No, really! My ears aren't quite as pointed, and my fur isn't quite as dark, but other'n that, I'm pretty much a wolf all over. Even then.

So, yeah. Happy burfday to me. Buy me stuff, or I'll bite your face off. For real.

Rubin.

2 Comments:

Blogger ankonym said...

Happy belated birthday, o Rubinman!

Or, WAU WAU WAU, as German dogs say.
Greetings from Berlin-Friedrichshain, home to almost more wolves than humans.

3:14 PM  
Blogger Brody the Bulldog said...

Yes! Happy Birf-day Rubin!
And - Happy New Year - while I'm at it.

(snif snif snif) Nice to meet ya.

I haven't had a birf-day yet, so I guess, technically, I'm still a pup. But now that I know I'm supposed to get stuff, I'll be sure to leave some 'presents' of my own on the kitchen floor for my parents.

Keep it loose Fangman.

Brody the Bulldog

11:08 PM  

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