Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

Rex

Armageddon.

I was trolling the Scientific American site today when I came across an article entitled thusly:

First, I must ask why even ask this question?  Do we dinosaurs take to scientific journals to ask, “If a human being came face-to-face with a wild mountain lion, what are the chances of survival, given the human’s gross inferiority to all animals in general?” We don’t.

Anyway, after I awoke from the gosh darn tranq-ing that Norm gave me because I started trashing his place in anger, I had to read the article.

Please, please, dear friends, read to the end of this excerpt:

American paleontologist Henry Fairfield Osborn, the first one to describe T. rex, initially expressed doubts that the relatively small humerus, or upper arm bone, associated with this enormous animal really belonged to it. Once convinced, however, he forwarded the first theory in 1906 of their utility–in grasping organs for copulation.

I don’t normally like to use your childish LOLs or ROTFLs, but seriously … Oh. Emm. Gee.

The arms of a monstrous killer death lizard can easily bench 400 pounds and THAT was the only use he could come up with?

Rest easy, tonight, “Dr.” Matt Lamanna, there existed a dumber paleontologist than you.

Rawr.


Rex

Rex remembers

I dug up some more pictures of my hockey-playing days for you, because I like you … because you’re my friend … because we don’t talk about ME enough.

I’m a bit older than I was in the previous post in which I was playing with a bunch of violent rugrats.

Here you can see that I then played with a bunch of brutish whippersnappers:

First, notice the eye of the tiger I’ve got going on there.  That’s just full of win.

Second, notice that there are no fans in the audience. This is because I ate them.

Wow, you really need to calm down with this thinking I eat everything in sight. I’m JOKING. I didn’t eat the humans. I ate their kids.

Again, J-O-K-I-N-G.

Do you always twitch like that?

Third, yes, I agree, I do look great in blue.

Fourth, no that’s not Blor’s kid Blor. That’s Glor’s kid Glor. Again, the cavemen, not the brightest asteroids in the sky.

Fifth, that was as close as anyone from the opposing team got to the puck that day.  I’m pretty sure the score was 56 to 1.  They only managed to score when I took a snack break TO EAT EVERYONE’S PETS!

You’re twitching again.

Here’s a much older picture from when I was first learning to skate.

Can you find me? It’s like Where’s Monstrous Killer Death Lizard Rex?! I’m in there somewhere, laughing at their stupid hats.

Rawr.


Rex

My Juliet.

We’re kicking off an art installation tomorrow here at AIP’s Gallery of Art and I cannot tell you how excited I am about it.

And I’m not just saying that because Norm stood up on his tippy toes and held a tranq gun to my ankle.

This installation called “Animation B.C” is all about animation before computers came around and the star of the show is none other than Gertie the dinosaur.

I’m going to tell you something. Gertie was an actress. Gertie and I used to date.

Here she is in her most famous role:

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UY40DHs9vc4[/youtube].

Gertie and I were very passionate about each other, but it just wasn’t meant to be. She was a plant eating vegetarian while I was a carnivore, feasting on any dinosaur I could get my teeth on. It made for some tense meals and eventually she was too scared to turn her back on me and I was too scared that one day I’d get just hungry enough.

My God, if you thought Romeo and Juliet were star-crossed lovers …

Also, this goes without saying because you know me by now, but, DON’T TELL SALLY!

Rawr.

Wrangler Update

The Art Institute website now has the Animation B.C. news page up.


Rex

On your marks …

Well, it is Friday and the Pittsburgh Marathon is Sunday. I’ve already got my number, as you can see, but I still haven’t found my shoes.

Norm is going to get me new ones for the race after a conversation yesterday that went something like this:

Rex: Make me new shoes or I will drop kick you to the Point.

Norm: Okay.

Self-preservation is so cute on Norm.

Between you and me, I made a big deal about the shoes because I want to look good for the race. I do not need shoes to win a mere 26-mile race. I once chased a velociraptor for 70 miles. I probably could have had him at 2 miles, but I wanted to see him do his personal best before collapsing and dying. I’m a motivator. It was touching.

Do you ever wonder what it is like for a monstrous killer death lizard like me, the perfect combination of strength and speed and handsomeness, to run a race against mere humans?

Maybe this will help you understand:

photo credit

Yeah, it’s kind of like that.

If you come out to the race on Sunday, be sure to say hi to your good friend Rex. I’ll be that handsome dinosaur with a medal around his neck while being a solid half-hour into his nap by the time the first human crosses the finish line.

Rawr.


Rex

This is news?

Here’s some news:

A lost tribe of dinosaurs in Colorado and New Mexico may have survived the extinction of their brethren some 65 million years ago, a paleontologist suggested Tuesday.

First, brethren? What is this, church?

Second, that word extinction. I thought we agreed that wasn’t a real thing. A fake word. A sniglet, if you will.

Third, my favorite sniglet in the world is orosuctuous. It sounds like a dinosaur doesn’t it? But it’s not. Look it up. One time, a caveman sucked a stone bowl to his mouth for a whole three minutes (cavemen were easily bored. Because they were stupid). A stone bowl! That’s orosuctastic!

Lastly, all the proof you need that the dinosaurs didn’t die out 65 million years ago is standing on the Boulevard of the Allies right now wondering how much of a head start he should give the other runners in the marathon on Saturday.

I’m thinking a good 30 minutes should make it a competitive race.

Rawr.


Rex

Rex Remembers

I don’t know about you, but I don’t recall breathing from the time the Flyers scored their goal until the time Max Talbot put one in the net during last night’s Penguins game.

That was meteoric fireball intense. I would know about meteoric fireball intensity.

You might be surprised to know that I played hockey as a young lad with the cavepeople’s children in a youth league called “We can’t figure out the wheel, but we made an ice hockey rink!”

What?

Anyways, you seem skeptical. Luckily for you my mother emailed me some photos.

First, here’s me with my team.

What’s happening is that blurry kid skating away from me is CaveMan Blor’s kid Blor (cavemen are giant stupidheads in case you can’t tell) and he had just said to me, “I can’t wait until you guys go extinct!”

To which I responded, “[redacted by Norm]!”

As you can see it takes about a dozen human kids to stop me from eating Blor’s kid Blor.

Here’s me in action doing Sidney Crosby type things 65 million years before Sidney Crosby’s existence.

See that human kid #55 in front of me all crouching with his knees buckled together. That was the first time I realized I could make humans lose control of their bodily functions. That was a good day.

I’ll see if I can find more pictures from my hockey playing days to share with you soon!

Also, I’m STILL not wearing any hockey gear and it’s making me look like a bad Penguins fan. Have you seen Norm lately? Was he feverishly sewing a giant Malkin jersey while openly weeping?

Good.

Rawr.


Rex

Okay/Not Okay

Today’s edition of Okay/Not Okay covers baking products.

Okay:

These are adorable little cookie cutters you can use for your child’s dinosaur-themed birthday party (as if there was any other kind).

NOT OKAY!

Norm sent me this link wondering if “Dr.” Matt Lamanna had anything to do with this product and I must say, I’m pretty sure Norm was laughing hysterically as he sent the email.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry in my life and that includes the time that the cavemen managed to saddle me and ride me like a horse.

Get your tranq gun powered up, Norm, because there’s about to be some destroying happening up in here.

RAWRRRRRR!


Rex

If it flies away and never comes back, it got tired of the nagging.

Here’s some dinosaur news:

Paleontologists have claimed that dinosaurs may have evolved wings to woo the opposite sex, a theory which puts an end to the decades-long debate on the evolution of flight by the ancestors of modern avians.

I don’t know who these erroneous paleontologists are, but I have a feeling that one of them has a name that starts with Matt and ends with Lamanna.

Let me tell you, every dinosaur I have ever known in my life that suddenly sprouted a pair of wings, did not gain or use those wings to “woo” (who even uses that word?!) the opposite sex.  No, every dinosaur I ever knew that sprouted wings and flew away did it to GET AWAY from the opposite sex!

You’ve never heard nagging until you’ve heard a female dinosaur nag.

“These eggs aren’t going to fertilize themselves!”

“The survival of our kind is resting on your shoulders!”

“Look at this place!  A dodo bird couldn’t live in this mess!”

“When is the last time you cleaned your teeth?  Your breath is horrid and you have a pterodactyl eyeball stuck in your teeth!  God.”

“I thought I told you to stop bringing the cave children home! For the last time, I don’t believe you that they followed you and also, we have enough pets!”

Fly away, little dino.  Fly away.

(Don’t tell Sally!)

Rawr.


Rex

Rex Responds

Reader Snuffelupagus (I’m guessing that’s not his/her real name) commented on this post and wrote:

Whether “Dr.” Matt Lamanna designed that awful Godzilla-esque doll or not, I’m sure he’d be very disappointed that Rex forget to italicize Triceratops. But maybe this will answer a long-standing question for me – while it’s scientific convention to italicize the genus and species names of organisms, do the organisms themselves do so? Or even care?

To expand on that thought, sort of like in the T.S. Eliot poem, do you identify with the name that scientists have given you or do you have your own secret name for yourself?

First, no, we dinosaurs are not big on italicizing our genus and species because that’s a human rule and dinosaurs are not ruled by human rules.  We follow Dinosaur Rules.

Secondly, I love the name Tyrannosaurus Rex because it means “Tyrant Lizard” and it sounds scary and big and fascinating and teethy.  Everything that I am.

On the other hand, my friend Sophie is a Barapasaurus and boy does she hate that name because every time we say it, we burp.  Drives her crazy.

Finally, do I have a secret name for myself? Other than Rex, I don’t. But I do have a nickname for my girlfriend Sally and that is Ponn Farr.

Google it.

Rawr.


Rex

If I tweeted.

You know about twitter, right?

Twitter is awesome because you get sort of up- close and personal with famous people like John Mayer and Soleil Moon Frye. Punky Brewster in the house!

I don’t twitter because Norm is afraid of what I’d say. He gets to approve everything I write on here before it is posted, but on twitter I would be free to just go ahead and call Dorothy the Dinosaur a [redacted by Norm] with a [redacted by Norm] who always [redacted by Norm].

See? I bet Norm just took all the good stuff out again.

If we dinosaurs had had twitter when we were growing up we could have tweeted things like “the cave people just tried to make a square wheel. I’m not even kidding.” or “hey, how do you know if woolly mammoth meat has gone bad? It is okay to eat once it turns green?” or “do you guys see that giant ball of fire in the sky that’s heading this way?”

But if I did tweet on twitter, here’s what I would have twat (?):

CreationRex Lunchtime. Chasing some kids down Smithfield. They’re slow so I’m hopping on one foot to make the chase more interesting for me.

CreationRex Eating. But not the kids. They ducked into Macy’s and I get so tired of those pushy perfume salesgirls. NO I DON’T WANT TO SMELL LIKE A SUNSET!

CreationRex NOT putting whipped cream in Norm’s shoes.

CreationRex Uh oh. Sally found out about my blog. She’s not happy.

CreationRex Soleil Moon Frye is a cutie pie. Don’t tell Sally!

CreationRex Taking pictures with some tourists. They’re behaving and have promised me a treat. Hope it’s a bacon-wrapped velociraptor.

CreationRex Attention humans: An apple is NOT A TREAT!

CreationRex NOT crushing Dr. Matt Lamanna’s car like a hadrosaur pancake.

CreationRex Picking windshield glass shards out of my foot.

CreationRex Heard Norm is looking for me. Have you seen him? Does he look mad? Is there whipped cream oozing out of his shoes? I don’t know anything about that.

CreationRex Eating noms. And yes, by “noms” I mean “kittehs”. Yum.

CreationRex Calm down. I didn’t really eat a kitten. Today.

Rawr.