Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

Hi, I'm Rex, I'm a dinosaur and this is my blog.


A chat with Norm

Me: [sigh]

Norm: Don’t sigh. You’ll blow the fridge over again. What’s wrong?

Me: The Steelers.

Norm: Yeah. Bummer.

Me:  MORE than ‘bummer’. This is terrible. We might not even make the playoffs this year!

Norm: Stop shouting. You’ll blow the window out again. Look, it happens. Teams win championships and then fall apart.

Me: Well, we have to beat Miami or we really are done for.

Norm: Yep.

Me:  We need  better defense.

Norm: Yep.

Me:  We need Troy Polamalu.

Norm: Yep.

Me: We need mojo.

Norm:  Yep.

Me:  I should eat a dolphin.

Norm:  Yep — NO!

Me: But it worked with the Penguins!  I won them the Stanley Cup! They were almost losers and I ate an octopus and just like that, WINNERS! I was a hero, a national hero! If I eat a dolphin and the Steelers win and somehow get to the playoffs, why, they’ll throw ME a parade!

Norm:  You’re NOT EATING A DOLPHIN! There is a difference in the eyes of a human when it comes to eating a tentacled, suction-cupped ocean dweller versus a kind, loving, beautiful, life-saving ocean dweller.

Me: But –

Norm:  No.

Me: But -

Norm: NO!

Me:  Fine.

(Ten minutes later)

Me: Do you happen to know which bus goes to the Zoo?

That’s the last thing I remember.

So if the Steelers lose on Sunday, don’t blame me.

I tried.

Blame Norm.


era: Cenozoic . species: , ,

A wallaroo?

Guess what this is supposed to be.  Go ahead.  I’ll wait.

Did you say things like, “A teethy frog” or “a flying squirrel” or “even though I don’t know what one looks like, a bandicoot?”

You would be wrong because THAT is supposed to be a monstrous killer death lizard … a T-Rex.

I was so offended when I found that in my stocking on Christmas morning that I, well, if you haven’t seen Norm since Christmas, don’t worry.  He’s fine.

Just having a very long dart-induced nap, which I know nothing about.


era: Cenozoic . species: ,

Bring it, blogger.

This is a Rex Christmas card built by a six-year-old.

Except that it’s actually a Rex card built by a 35-year-old lady blogger.

I assume she is visually impaired because, first, my face is split open and second, my arm is falling off and third, my legs aren’t supporting my weight which is making me appear to be doing a split, and I haven’t done a split since my Broadway days, and fourth, I’m not even going to discuss the tape on my head, and fifth, I sure AM going to address her snide comment about my arms being unable to support the weight of a Terrible Towel, because it sounds very much like she insulted my massive arms.

I’m going to assume she’s just jealous because my blog is eons better than hers and because a baby giraffe (mmmmm) could build a better Rex than she can.

Norm told me to be nice because “you do not want to get on her bad side,” and I replied, “Buddy, I’m not on her bad side, SHE IS ON MINE.”



Adoring fan cards!

My fans have been busy building mini-Rex cards, as you can see by this picture I was sent:


Even in black and white, I am devastatingly handsome.

The second from the left me appears to be either intoxicated or recently tranqed.

Gosh darn that Norm guy! Such a trigger finger that he shoots at anything that remotely resembles me.

I can’t even begin to imagine what he’ll do when the Rex bobblehead is made.

“It’s moving! [blam!]  It’s moving again [blam!]  Still moving! [blam! blam!]“


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All I want for Christmas.

alligator meat

I know. I know.  I haven’t written anything in days and the reason for that has nothing to do with me stalking the Mayor in order to exact revenge on behalf of AIP over the tuition tax.  It does however have everything to do with … uh … something else and I’m not going to tell you what so that you’ll have plausible deniability when you say, “No, I don’t know anything about that.”

I also spent some of my free time over the last few days combing through the internet to find the perfect things to include on the list I will leave laying around for Norm to accidentally discover — my list entitled, “Things I Want for Christmas, and if You Know What’s Good for You, You Will Buy Them for Me or I Will Hurt You While You Sleep. Rawr.”

And look at what I found!


No, it is not a dating service.  It is a place to buy exotic meats for that special dinosaur in your life named Rex.

They have EVERYTHING!  Deer meat, lion meat, alligator meat, llama meat, wild boar meat!

Now, calm down, animal lovers.  I’m sure 1-800-exotic-meats doesn’t go around shooting llamas.  I’m 100% sure they just walk behind the llamas waiting for them to drop dead, and THEN they take their meat.

Regardless,my “Things I Want for Christmas, and if You Know What’s Good for You, You Will Buy Them for Me or I Will Hurt You While You Sleep. Rawr.” list goes like this:

1. Lion meat, but only if the lion suddenly dropped dead so as not to get the animal lovers writing me nasty letters

2.  One whole week without me waking to find a tranq dart sticking out of my snout because you are a lousy shot who couldn’t hit my butt if I painted a bullseye on it.

3.  Bull meat.  See number 1.

4.  Ten minutes alone with the Mayor

5.  The return to me of the Stanley Cup that I rightfully stole

6.  A chance to speak at Barney’s funeral

And boy, if Norm gets me number 6 for Christmas, I already know what I’ll say at the funeral.  I’ll say, “BOO-YAH! Told you I’d outlive your purple [redacted by Norm], you [redacted by Norm] piece of [redacted by Norm].

‘Tis the season!


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Rex Remembers Again.

Tonight is the Portraits of the Past Gala here at AIP and yours truly is not only going to be there, daintily snacking on pterodactyl munchies (which is what I assume they serve at “galas”), but I’m also sure to be featured in some of those historical AIP photos.

For instance, here I am a few decades ago checking out the students doing sketches of each other:


You can’t really tell, but in that picture, I was sitting for a portrait being sketched by a total babe.  And I wasn’t wearing any clothes.

Don’t tell Sally.  It was ART.

Here I am sneaking up on AIP’s founder (left, holding the hat):


If you think his screaming was funny, you should have seen him throw that hat at me in stark terror before he realized it was me.

That was a fun day and since it was before AIP invested in a stockroom of highly powered tranq guns, I basically got away with it.

But here’s something I didn’t get away with.  Admiring the lovely ladies while they worked so hard in class:


All I did was breathe a little and it shook the windows, maybe exploded a few of them and then all this crazy screaming and throwing hats and pencils and purses at me.

Excuse me for breathing, ladies!  They did eventually forgive me when I agreed to be a sketch subject for one of their classes.

Again without my clothes.  It’s the story of my life.

In honor of this event celebrating our past, I decided to dress for the occasion and I dug up some of my oldest accessories:


I can see you’re rendered absolutely speechless by the sheer magnitude of my dapper-ness, but just wait until you see me in my tuxedo tonight.

Also, completely unrelated, do you happen to know the best way to get sheep blood out of a tuxedo?



Crafty little Christmas card of amazing handsomeness.

You have no idea how many fans I have and the reason is because I’m not sure there’s a number that goes that high.

And because I have so many fans, if I wanted to mail each of you a Christmas card, it would probably cost Norm about six trillion dollars in postage.

And since Norm is a stingy wrangler who has fits of dry heaves every time I ask him to open his wallet and spare me a few dollars, I’m pretty sure we can safely assume there aren’t six trillion dollars available in AIPs postage budget.

So I went to my friend Jordan, a student here at AIP, and I said, “Jordy, could you design a Christmas card for me?  About me?  OF me?”

And he said, “Don’t call me Jordy, Barney.”

And after we had a little argument that turned into a blazing fight, LOOK AT WHAT HE MADE!


Look at the Terrible Towel replica, just like the one I wept into this Sunday!

If you would like a Christmas card from me that you can fold into your very own miniature me and have ME on your desk forever and ever or until the next asteroid, all you have to do is click on this picture:


Print it out and then follow the directions.

If you need help, here’s a video of the card being assembled:

Well done, Jordy!

Oh, did I mention I won the fight?


era: Cenozoic . species: ,

Throwing signs, yo.

The other day was Blue Beanie Day here at AIP, and if you’re thinking the beanies had little propellers atop them, like me, you would have been very disappointed.

Blue Beanie Day is celebrated in support of “web standards and accessibility” and to “fight Web Standards Apathy.”

I’m not going to lie to you.  I don’t know what any of that means.

But what I do know is that these kids made me a giant blue beanie and asked me to make the HTML sign with them.  You know, THIS sign: <  >, so I of course obliged them.  Check us out:


I’m going to start a movement to fight Dinosaur Apathy because look at all those cute babes and I’ve got A GUY holding my hand.


era: Prehistoric . species:

A chat with AIP’s President


So the other day, I was sitting with my laptop on the Boulevard, minding my own business while shopping online for Christmas gifts for Norm and Sally and Matt Lamanna and Barney (Play-Doh, diamonds, coal and botulism, respectively) when AIP’s president suddenly appears in front of me and he is pacing up and down the sidewalk, clearly worried about something, so being the kind and caring dinosaur I am, I asked him if he was okay:

Rex: WOULD YOU CUT IT OUT?!  That muttering and pacing and muttering and pacing.  I’m trying to shop here.

George:  Sorry.  I’m very worried.

Rex: Yeah, join the club.  Did you know you can’t just buy botulism online? Is this not 2009?!

George:  The mayor is trying to tax the students.  I’m very worried.

Rex:  You already mentioned.  Why don’t you just eat him?

George:  It doesn’t work that way, Rex.  He’s going to tax our students 1% of their tuition.  Taxing education!  Whoever heard of such a thing?

Rex:  Not me.  You want ME to eat him?

George:  NO!

Rex:  What good is owning a monstrous killer death lizard if you never let him help you?

George:  NO!  You will not harm the Mayor.  Final answer.

Rex:  Stretch him a little bit?

George:  No!  We will deal with this in council chambers and through lobbying and through the courts.

Rex:  Ok.  How about I just pick him up, swing him around like a Terrible Towel, and then fling him into the river for a swim?  He might actually enjoy that.

George:  Rex …

Rex:  You humans are no fun.

George:  Anyway, I’m so worried–


George:  Our students already pay their fair share.  They live here and work here and spend their money here and that means they’re already paying taxes and bearing some of the burden.  Why burden them further?

Rex:  Oooh!  Look! has the Play-Doh Barber Shop on sale.  Norm would play with that for DAYS.

George:  –This is like being punished for choosing to be educated in the City of Pittsburgh.  It doesn’t make any sense.

Rex:  Know what else doesn’t make any sense?  How freaking expensive coal is.  Geez. I might need to sell another piece of art.

George: –is a short-term solution that abandons ethics and logic and will generate long-term damage to the higher education community in Pittsburgh. I’m frustrated beyond belief.

Rex:  Are you SURE I can’t just stretch him a little?

George: —–

Rex:  YES!

George: NO!  I will call Norm.

Rex:  Go ahead.  If he tranqs me, he’s getting coal, too.

George:  I’m going back in now.  Thanks for letting me talk it out.  Behave.

Rex:  Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Promise.

Then after he left I started tiptoeing up to Grant Street but someone tipped Norm off because I lost consciousness around Cherry Way.

SOMEONE isn’t getting real Play-Doh for Christmas.


Wrangler Note:

Despite Rex’s best intentions the river probably isn’t the best way to influence City Council and the Mayor’s Office. If you would like to oppose this tax you can email your City Council Member from the city’s website.


Caption it! Without the use of the words “tiny arms.”

The Post-Gazette holds a little caption contest each week, and this week, they are seeking captions for this illustration:


I guarantee that some smart-mouthed people are going to send in captions like, “Hey, whaddaya know!  Their arms CAN hold some things.”

MY suggestions:

“It’s a shame.  Steelers lose three in a row and dinosaurs start driving off of cliffs.”


“He was driving by Creation Rex when he became so overwhelmed by Rex’s superiority, and he just froze like that.”


“It’s Creation Rex.  He was trying to run down Barney.  Barney won.”

But that last one is a total lie because the day I’m behind the wheel and I see Barney in the crosswalk all, “I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family …”

Mark my words. I will win.


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