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


The snacks have run amok

Just noticed this on Norm’s twitter:

Uh. If I used twitter this would be the part where I would tweet: “I DON”T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THAT, NORM!” and then I would race home because chances are my snacks have escaped.


But again, Norm, I would just like to reiterate that I don’t know anything about the squirrels.  Or the possums.


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Mucking up the gene pool.

Just the other day I said to myself, Rex, being so handsome and perfectly proportioned and fearsome, could you imagine being a dinosaur with the head of an ostrich, the teeth of a horse, the talons of a parrot and the body of an obese kangaroo?

I thought I would feel sorry for such a dinosaur, until I saw the Nothronychus Graffami which lived 30 million years before I was born king:

What I’m feeling isn’t so much pity as much as it’s LOOK AT THE UGLY LOSER!

I bet the cavemen built an entire dialect around all the words they invented to make fun of this thing, the first of which I bet was “BOOFUGAH!”



Various Curiosities

1. The Pirates are unloading players like crazy these last few days.

I wonder if the Pirate Parrot is available for trade because if it is, I think you know what to do: trade a pack of gum for him, knock him unconscious with a tranq gun I’ll give you that I totally didn’t steal from Norm, and then after you’ve rendered him unconscious, bring me the giant bird. With some salt and pepper. And a giant toothpick.

Love you.

2.  The Steelers signed Heath Miller to a six-year deal, which was a smart move considering he is the one human on Earth I consider the closest to being a dinosaur. Or a machine. Or a robot. Or a robot dinosaur.

Let’s go with that.

3.  I think I’ll take Jake to the next AIP open house so he can meet some more humans. I take my mentor duties seriously and the lad clearly needs to practice his don’t eat the people skills.

Stop by and say hi to us if you come. We don’t bite.


Get it? We totally bite. Hard.

But still, say hi!

4.  I have been foiled over and over again, mostly by Norm, in my attempts to steal that cuppy thing that lives at Mario’s house.  I’m bringing in reinforcements though, so watch out, Mario. Watch out.  It’s about to get all ninja up in here.

5.  A thought: There needs to be a movie about a ninja dinosaur and I need to star in it.

I’m glad you agree with me.

6. has a post up about the Five Worst Dinosaur Movies of All Time which led me to a movie so bad, so atrocious, so hilariously devoid of anything positive that it might actually make your day.

Let’s do MATH TIME WITH REX!  Making you mathier because I care.

Girl in a brown bikini + dinosaur puppet + director + script – talent – special effects budget – plot – more talent + ridiculousness*763,000 = HAHAHAHAH.  HAHAHAHAH!  HAHAHAHHA!

I can’t pick my favorite part of the trailer. Maybe when the girl leapfrogs to safety, or the giant fake alligator, or maybe when the big fake Graboid shows up.

There’s no telling!

Worst movie ever or WORST BEST movie ever or BEST WORST movie ever?

I can’t decide. But I do know this, Ninja Dinosaur will win an Oscar.



Mentors don’t let mentees eat glass.

Performing my mentor duties for Big Dinosaurs of America, I took Jake with me to a few places recently and I promised him I would share them with you because 1. He’s an attention-hog 2. He doesn’t have a blog and 3. He’s an attention-hog.

The first place I took him was to Schenley Park to see a Cinema in the Park feature.


It was great fun until Jake saw the Iron Giant come on screen, assumed it was something scary that needed to die, and attacked the screen with a ferociousness I haven’t seen since that day I called Blor’s kid Blor a [redacted by Norm]. Boy, was Blor MAD. While I don’t speak Stupid B.C. as I have told you before, you can still tell how mad you make a caveman by how ruthlessly they start dragging their women around by the hair. True story.

Anyway, of course we kind of ruined the movie for everyone, so I took Jake home and promised him that the next day I would take him someplace he couldn’t get into any trouble.

Phipps Conservatory sounded like it would fit the bill. How much trouble can a meat-eating dinosaur get into in a plant-filled building?

Surprisingly, a lot.

Being quite young, Jake didn’t understand that Phipps is a classy place. He didn’t understand that you don’t sneak up on the old people’s backs and roar until they start throwing canes in fear. He didn’t understand that even to a monstrous killer death lizard, glass is not edible.

Here he is about to eat yellow glass.


Yes, instead of warning him, I snapped a picture FIRST for you and then called to him, “That’ll make you bleed!”

He stopped in the nick of time, until later when I guess the curiosity was too much for him to bear. He waited until he was able to evade me and then …


After we were kicked the heck out of Phipps, I asked Jake how glass tastes and he said, “Crunchy. And bloody. Crunchy blood.”

I bet.


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Food versus Food?

So I caught this show the other night on television in the student lounge:

Isn’t that redundant?

I’m so confused.


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There is a facebook application called … “What [redacted by Norm] career will you go into?”

I just KNOW Norm is going to clean that up, so let me help you … the word Norm deleted rhymes with fadbass or madsass or cadglass or hadgrass or in the great lost language of Pig Latin, which I once received an Octorate-Day in … adass-bay.

Get it? If you STILL don’t know what word was redacted, email me so that I can personally respond with an email to you in which I will detail all of the ways you are an idiot.

Moving on.

One of the adass-bay jobs you can end up with is this one:

Really?  First, the Dinosaur Throat-Puncher profession lasted all of one caveman who was soundly ripped limb from limb the second his knuckles made contact with the dinosaur’s throat.

And secondly, Stephen, PLEASE, come here and try to throat punch me.  Really. Try. Please?

I haven’t had a decent meal in like three hours.


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There’s a new show coming to PBS called Dinosaur Train featuring a skinny orange “T-Rex” named Buddy.


Anyway, take a look at Buddy.


I know what you’re thinking and the answer is yes, a battle to the death between Barney and Buddy would be the most awesome thing ever.


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So I was walking about AIP today, seeing if there were any new students I hadn’t “oriented” yet …

or-i-ent [v.] The act of scaring students until they pee their pants, thus helping the students gain an understanding of who is king here and what they can expect if they sit on me or steal my stuff.

… when I overhead a few of the students making plans to try out for Deal or No Deal. What’s this?!

Producers from the syndicated version of “Deal or No Deal” (5 p.m. weekdays, WPGH) will be in Pittsburgh July 25 to audition prospective contestants at Ross Park Mall.

Prospective contestants must be at least 18 and legal U.S. residents.

I love that show and I seem to meet the requirements, right? I’m like 65 million years older than 18 and I do legally reside here in these United States of America.

I love Howie Mandel and the banker will take one look at my teethy face and my snarling grin and will phone Howie to say, “I’d like to offer the dino one million dollars to not eat me.”

I can’t lose.


era: Cenozoic .

Vacaciones!! Muy divertida! Muchos nom noms!

The post you’ve been waiting for is finally here.

Shut your office door, put you phone on mute, tell your yappy girlfriend to shhh (not you, Sally.  I love it when you go on and on and on and on about God knows what. Love that.) and have a look at my best vacation pictures.

First up, I headed to my old stomping grounds, the play yard where my dino friends and I used to play with dominoes. Some of those dominoes are still standing today, so of course I wanted to get my picture taken there.


Let me tell you, they were NOT happy when I knocked a few of the dominoes over last week. Not happy at all.  Running after me all, “Bullocks! Chivvy along now, you bloody beast!”

Fighting off the angry throngs of silly humans, I worked up quite an appetite, so logically, I hit Ireland for some snacks.



If you think ribs are messy, you’d be flabbergasted at how messy a dino gets after a herd of sheep, so off I went to Iceland to take a bath in the Blue Lagoon:


Or, as it could be called now, The Reddish Blue Lagoon.

It’s a delightful color, really.

I spent the next few days visiting my old girlfriend.


Boy did she pick a bad plastic surgeon for her nose job. Yikes.

Sally was THRILLED with this picture. “What’d she do, get hit in the face by an asteroid?!”

I bid Sphinxie ado and headed over to China to have a look see at their supposedly giant wall.


What do you know, it’s a GIANT wall.

Couldn’t kick it down no matter how hard I tried.

Anyway, one frantic “I’M IN JAIL … IN CHINA!!” call to Norm later, I was free but hungry from the begging and crying, so that of course meant … snack:


Good ole’ China.

If you think sheep are bad, you ought to have seen me after I [redacted by Norm because of blood and gore].

By this time, it was almost time to head by home to AIP and I didn’t want to come home smelling like I just [exact same thing redacted again].

Shower time!


Dear Canadians. Don’t have giant showers if you don’t want giant animals showering entrails off in them. Gosh.

For all the freaking out you did, it’s not like I came to your country and feasted on your … what does Canada even have, eh? Other than delicious exotic French-Canadians.

Fresh and clean and worn out from my travels, I headed home to Norm who greeted me with open arms and the tranq gun powered down to 50%.

Perfect for a long nap.

Also, Norm, when the Chinese embassy calls about some cows, or the Spanish embassy about some bulls, or the French embassy about some sissy Frenchmen … I don’t know anything about that.


era: Cenozoic,Prehistoric . species: ,

Doing … and not doing.

Things I am doing this weekend:

1. Seeing as today is New Student Orientation at AIP, I’ll be spending the start of this weekend teaching a whole batch of new students all of the ways they should avoid ticking off AIP’s monstrous killer death lizard. First lesson … DON’T STEAL MY STUFF!

2.  Going through my 672 vacation photos to pick the cream of the crop to show you. Prepare to be blown the heck away.  When Rex vacations, HE VACATIONS!

3.  Taking Jake to Sandcastle Water Park. This is going to be very interesting.  I’m imagining lots of running and terrified screaming. Can’t wait.

4.  Teaching Norm some math. He’s not very mathy. I think I’ll start with the most basic of equations.

Rex + <30 lbs of carcass per week = Norm + bruises + bleeding ouchies

This I am NOT doing this weekend. No sir. Not doing ‘em.

1. Dismantling and correctly rearranging the T-Rex versus T-Rex display at the Carnegie because “Dr.” Matt Lamanna is a dinosaur dummie.  Not doing that.

2.  Stealing the Stanley Cup. Definitely not doing that. No sir.

3.  Hunting down whoever submitted this as a design for a Woot! shirt and sic-ing angry chickens on her.

4.  Seeking a tech expert to help me disengage the web-cameras at the T-Rex versus T-Rex display. Don’t need that. Don’t email me at if you know anyone that could do that for me. I won’t respond. No sir.