Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

Rex

Dodge this.

As promised, I attended my first dodgeball match last Thursday here at the school and I have to tell you, I’m pretty ridiculously awesome at dodgeball.  I mean, this game was MADE for me. They might as well change the name to Rex Ball or DinoKillBall.

I walked into the gym without a team, but that changed quickly because if you are a dodgeball team of art students and a giant monstrous killer death lizard walks into the room looking for a pick-up game, you ask that T-Rex to join your team and when he says that he was already asked to join a team, you bribe that T-Rex with fresh carcass to be delivered at a later date.

I’m easily swayed by carcass.

When it came time for the first match-up, our opponents took one look at me and I guess they realized they had two choices, weep in fear or taunt.

They chose taunt. Very ill-advised.

“Hey, Rex, you’re kind of a big target aren’t you?”

“Hey, Rex, eat my shorts!”

“Hey, Rex, can those little toothpicks you call arms even hold the ball, let alone throw it?!”

I took their taunting quietly while the balls were lined up on the center line and then as soon as the whistle blew, I ran forward, turned sideways, use my giant tail to sweep the entire opposing team backwards like I was sweeping up floor crumbs, and then I pinned them to the wall and held them there to squirm while my team pelted their faces with red rubber balls.

We won, of course.  I’m not sure what the final score was, but I’d estimate it was -5,000 to sixty billion.

Against the rules, you say?

Funny, the refs didn’t have any objections to my style of play once I showed them my teeth.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: ,
Rex

Like big red rubber snowballs

I was roaming the halls of the school this week, totally not getting into any kind of trouble, and totally not stalking the culinary students to see if they were carrying any leftovers on their persons, when I noticed a poster advertising a student dodgeball match.

Dodgeball.  Otherwise known as “The Only Sport in Which the Humans Hand Me a Rubber Ball and Tell Me to Try to Decapitate People With It.”

It’s tonight at 5:00 p.m. and I’m so there.

I’ll let you know how it goes, how many heads roll, and how very loud and whiny the sissy humans are when they look in the mirror to find rubber ball indentations on their foreheads.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: ,
Rex

I don’t joke about snowball fights.

Apparently, some of the new students here at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh didn’t take my warning too seriously when I hinted that I would be, out of love, starting a snowball war once they arrived on campus after winter break, because many many of them came woefully unprepared to counterattack once the hail of spherical ice missiles began.

Someone come get all these freshmen who lie unconscious in the snow on the Boulevard.  But watch where you step because there are many sets of eyeglasses littered around their frozen bodies.  And good luck figuring out which backpack belongs to who because I sent one flying literally over 50 feet. And his backpack probably 50 feet beyond.

Now, the students who did come prepared were the students who have been studying here for some time.  The veterans who know their good friend Rex well and they know I don’t joke about snowball fights.

Their leader, Matt, tried valiantly to mount an offense against me, and psst, here’s a secret: I let him think he had the upper hand for a bit.  Just to mess with him.

Here he is approaching the front lines of the battle.

Note the “bring it” expression on my face, and note the poor girl running from me trying in vain to cover her head from incoming snowballs.  She didn’t last long.

Here’s Matt on his first approach.

He’s laughing and mocking me. That won’t last, because as the caveman saying goes, “Bleeckie mah foo moo moo skee gah!” which roughly translates into, “Mock dinosaur and die painfully.”

Note how I’m pretending not to even notice he’s standing there.  I’m just looking over his head like I don’t have a care in the world or a snowball aimed at my neck. This is the part where I was letting him think he was winning.  They’re so cute and reckless when they think they’re winning.

I think I may have taken one or two snowballs to the body and one “Good luck fighting back with those tiny useless arms, you stupid dino” before I finally decided it was time to show Matt what my tiny useless arms are capable of:

That’s right.  One snowball the size of a globe, aimed exactly right and you too could send a 175 lb. human up five stories to the top of the nearby parking garage where hopefully, some kind soul will help him out from underneath that avalanche of awesomeness.

Rawr.


Rex

They’re BAAAA-ACK!

I love Christmas and I always have, ever since that night that giant bright star appeared in the sky and we dinos thought it was an asteroid zooming toward Earth and boy, did we look silly trying to outrun it.

Christmas is wonderful.  Winter break, however, is not.

I hate it because it gets so quiet here when the students go home to their families.  No one to stop and chat with me, other than AIP staff, and I don’t need to tell you what a giant box of fun they are.

I’ve suffered through weeks of being bored and having no one to terrorize save for the occasional downtown accountant or lawyer, which, Norm, if you get a letter from Michaels, Michaels, Michaels, Michaels, and Smith LLC informing you of a lawsuit for personal injury, I don’t know anything about that, but ask them if LLC stands for Lame Losers who Cry.

Today, the students began arriving back at AIP to get ready for orientation tomorrow night and classes which begins on Monday, and boy, I have missed those little rascals and OH BOY, am I ready to greet them with love, affection, and spheres of icy death.

Remember kids, when you walk by me tomorrow and I pick the backpack off of your back with one well-aimed, 100 mph snowball, I did it with love.

I believe you humans have an expression, do you not? It’s on like Donkey Kong.

Rawr.


Rex

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:

aiphistory1

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):

aiphistory3

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:

aiphistory2

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:

rex-past-wide

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?

Rawr.


Rex

A chat with AIP’s President

516AW5ZS95L._SL500_AA280_

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–

Rex:  YOU SAID!

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!  Amazon.com 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.

Rawr.

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.


Rex

Super Ninja Robot Sea Monster Dino!

While I was angrily ranting and raving about those jerk Geekologie writers making fun of my arms, AIP student Eric happened to be walking by and this happened:

Rex: RAWR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eric: You okay, Rex?

Rex: RAWR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eric: Uh-oh. What happened?

Rex: RAWR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  [shows Eric the Geekologie post]

Eric: Aw. Silly nerds.  Here, this will make you feel better.

And Eric whipped out his drawing pad and quickly sketched a picture showing how he views me:

robotdino

Yes. Robot Ninja Sea Monster Dinosaur rules Pittsburgh!

I asked Eric to be sure to include in the sketch the Geekologie writers, Barney, Matt Lamanna, Scott Mervis and all the other enemies I have and he did.

Don’t you see them?

They’re in that there plane I just sent down in a ball of fire.

I feel better already.

Rawr.


Rex

B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was delicious-o!

Yesterday, a student with the AIP Student Development committee came up to me and said, “Rex, you are awesome and handsome and fearsome and I wish I was just like you.”

Again, I’m paraphrasing just a bit.

Then he said, “Why don’t you come down to the student lounge tonight for a little Bingo?  It’s going to be great fun.”

And I was like, “Bingo?!  You’re having Bingo for me? Bingo? Actual Bingo?”

And he looked confused and was like, “Yes. Bingo! For you, too.  Come and join us.”

And I looked very confused and said, “Wait. The humans like Bingo, too?!”

And he was like, “Yes! Who doesn’t like Bingo?! See you tonight.”

So last night I excitedly hurried to the student lounge to find all of the students gathered around tables, waiting for Bingo, I assume:

I was so excited about Bingo that I couldn’t wait another minute so I started flipping over tables in my hunt, roaring, “Where is BINGO?!”

And like all these stupid little plastic balls start flying all over the place, clattering all over the floor and the students in their haste to run at me and yell at me for no reason, began slipping, quite comically I might add, on the balls and well, just chaos.

After it was all over, I learned two valuable things last night:

1. Bingo is a game.

2. Bingo is not a farmer’s delicious dog.

Maybe next time the Student Development people should be a little more specific.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: ,
Rex

I’m kind of a big deal.

You know you have made it, finally truly have been recognized as the handsomest, most awesome dinosaur in the world when you’re subject to fan Photoshops (or whatever the heck program you creative types use to incorporate my chiseled face into photographs).

Take a look.

This first one, if you put your ear to your monitor, you can actually hear those guys thinking, “We are just not worthy.”

TRIPPY!:

That’s pretty much how I look after I’ve eaten a sheep.

New York!

Picture that face with this text over it: “Ninja Dinosaur.”

Why isn’t that a movie yet?!

No matter what color I am, I’m pretty ridiculously awesome:

Finally, I want this one to be poster-sized and hung in my bedroom.

Sally, surprisingly, has rejected that idea on the grounds that that girl is a total babe.

Norm, couldn’t you just imagine a photography exhibit at AIP’s gallery that focuses on, well, ME?

I agree. Best idea ever.  Get on that.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: , ,
Rex

It’s a football night in Pittsburgh!

I don’t have much time to write. As soon as I find my Terrible Towel, I’m walking down to the Point with a bunch of AIP students who invited me along to watch the free concert with Tim McGraw and the Black Eyed Peas.  I have the sneaking suspicion the only reason they invited me is because they hope I’ll give them turns atop my shoulders so they can have a better view. I’m okay with this.  As long as they’re babes.  And not Sally.  She’s ENORMOUS.

Then we’re heading over the watch the Steelers game at Heinz Field.  I don’t have a ticket, but I don’t see how that is going to stop me from getting in to watch the game. I mean really. Have you SEEN me?!

I’m going to take Jake with me because I think it would be a great learning experience for him to see how I finesse the security guards to let us through the gate and by “finesse” I mean [redacted by Norm].

I bet you $87 million that Norm redacts that.

Rawr.