Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

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

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.

Rawr.


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Rex

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.”

Rawr!


Rex

Adoring fan cards!

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

rexcardcreation09

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!]“

Rawr.


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Rex

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!

1-800-exotic-meats!

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!

Rawr.


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Rex

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!

holidayrex

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:

rex_holiday

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?

Rawr.


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