Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

Rex

PodCamp Pittsburgh 4

This weekend, AIP hosted PodCamp Pittsburgh 4 and when Norm told me about it for the first time a few weeks ago, I was like, “So, what, you guys gather around and talk about pods or camps or …?”

Then Norm told me it was a conference for bloggers, podcasters (no clue), and other such social media (no clue) type things, and I was like, “So, nerds, then?”

And then when I woke up from the completely unwarranted tranquing, I decided to check out this “PodCamp Pittsburgh 4″ for myself. I registered and everything.

The first thing that greeted me at PodCamp was some guy manning the registration table and his name was Chachi.  He really had a bad attitude with me, saying, “Yeah, if we knew you were a dinosaur, we wouldn’t have let you register. You’ll take up too much space, you’ll eat too much food, and besides, what does a dinosaur know about social media or blogging?”

I calmly explained to this Chachi person that 1. I have a blog and it’s the best blog in the world and 2. Joanie called and wants to know when he’s coming home for dinner.

Chachi eventually obliged and handed me my name tag, which, LOOK!

Do you see that? Rock. Star. It’s just a fact.

And do you also see they put my twitter name on there? My twitter account that Norm still won’t let me use for fear I’ll just post true facts about him like the fact that he always [redacted by Norm] before he [redacted by Norm] even if it [redacted by Norm].

After telling Chachi I would deal with his scrawny butt later, I headed up to the fourth floor to check out the sessions and the snacks and the cute nerd babes.  I learned so much! I learned how to find ways to post every single day (which I’m working on getting better at).  I learned how to be sure my online identity is a proper reflection of who I really am (and until Norm lets me show you how I can eat a flock of sheep, you’ll never really KNOW Creation Rex).  I learned not to tweet my poop (trust me, if I ever tweeted a picture of MY poop, I would break the Internet), and I learned about how to take better videos, during which, Chachi, who was in the session, whispered to me, “First, you’d need to get yourself some longer arms to hold the camera with.”

That guy.

After two days of instruction, I had made lots of new friends who now love to hang out with me.

BABES!  And yeah, there’s some guys there, too, but most importantly, BABES!

They even gave me a shirt to wear, see:

Stunning.

And then Chachi got brave and decided to try to steal my name tag and, well:

Totally worth the six tranq darts to my butt.

Rawr.


Rex

Various Curiosities

1. Well the G-20 is over and while many of you stayed away either because you wished to or were told to, I have to tell you, international reporter babes are so much fun.

I would tell you “Don’t tell Sally” but she was up to her eyeballs in love with a reporter from France, so I don’t think she would even notice if I was otherwise occupied with international reporter babes.

I wonder if River Rescue ever fished that reporter from France out of the Mon.  No clue how he got there.  At all.

Also, best part of the G-20? HORSES!

What?

2.  An adoring fan of mine, @getfreshdesigns, sent me this picture:

It’s a T-Rex game and the object of the game is to flee the angry, monstrous, king of beasts, the terrible tyrant lizard T-Rex.

Please note the box says you will move “realistic dinosaurs” safely away from the T-Rex.  I assume this means the dinosaurs cry like little babies all, “Don’t eat me! Please don’t eat me!”

I approve this game and if the maker of this game would like me to film commercials for this game, I will put that loser Sham-wow guy to shame.

3.  Pittsburgh is wondering what happened to the lions that normally guard the Dollar Bank on Fourth Avenue.

Norm even posted about it!  Here’s the before when the lions were on guard:

Here’s the now:

As you can see, their handler/wrangler is just staring at their empty seats wondering where his charges disappeared to.  You know his tranq gun is hidden safely in that bag, locked and loaded.

Um, those are my buddies Leo and  Leonis (they’re twins doncha know?) and when they read about my adventure in stealing the Stanley Cup, they came to me and said, “Rex, your life is so awesome and all we do is sit there on our pedestals and sleep and eat the occasional bank burglar.  We wish we had lives as exciting as yours.  And a girlfriend as hot as yours.”

I’m paraphrasing a bit.

So I instructed Leo and Leonis to find themselves an adventure.  I’m expecting a postcard back from them any day now.

I think they said they were heading east first.  Something about New York City.

I’ll keep you posted, Dollar Bank, and I’m sure as soon as they’ve sown their wild oats, those two rascals will be right back guarding your building before you know it.

And to you, dear readers, if you see Leo and Leonis’ handler around and he asks you if you have any idea where they’ve gone, repeat after me: “I don’t know anything about that.”

4. Finally, no, I can’t talk about the Steelers right now.  I’m too mad, it’s too painful, and Norm has told me I’m under no circumstances to eat Limas Sweed.

Even though he deserves it.

Rawr.


Rex

Tengos any questionisimos?

It is a good thing I know so many languages, because for uno, it has helped me speak to the cute reporter babes descending on Pittsburgh from all over the Tierra.

And for dooce, it means I can be of service by offering to answer any questions any visitors might have about our fine city.

Check me out:

So far, I’ve answered questions such as, “Where is Primanti’s?” and “What is a Pittsburgh Left?” and “Didn’t I tell you you aren’t allowed to make the visitors pee their pants in fright?” and “Why are you so handsome and amazing?” and “Why did you flick my boyfriend into the river?”

I’ll let you guess which one of those came from Mayor Luke.

Rawr.


Rex

Stunning.

Here I am with my new G-20 background, which is the world map formed from various international ways to say “Welcome!”:

You might also notice that I’m wearing my best tie so that I can show the leaders of the world that I am a classy dinosaur. A dinosaur of taste.  A dinosaur who knows which fork to use.  A handsome dinosaur.  Pulchritudinous, if you will.  A dinosaur of many languages. Languageisimos, if you will.   A dinosaur Michelle Obama can feel comfortable inviting to State Dinners. A dinosaur that only on rare occasions misbehaves and steals major sporting event trophies. And I mean, VERY RARELY.

If you’re downtown for the G-20, stop by and say aloha to your bueno ami Rex.

Of course with all the security restrictions in place, you might have a hard time getting to me.  Too bad you’re not a giant dinosaur that can just walk across the riverbed like I can.

Also, Norm, yeah I found your car.  It’s drying off on the wharf.  YOU’RE POZHALOVAT!

Rawr.


Rex

The night I kissed Lord Stanley.

As I told you last week, I did not make it to the NFL kickoff concert at Point State Park, nor did I, the King of Steeler Nation, attend the game at Heinz Field.

With the entire city held captive by either that “dress” Fergie wore or by the mad football stylings of Troy Polamalu, Jake and I seized on a once in a lifetime opportunity to do what I have been threatening to do for three months.

Steal the Stanley Cup right out from under Sidney’s nose.

The first step was to be sure the entire student body was distracted and wouldn’t notice Jake and I slipping into the night like dinosaur ninjas.

You’ll notice Jake was SERIOUSLY angry about that bogus interference call on Troy Polamalu.  I managed to silence him right before he roared in anger.

Out into the cool night, Jake and I reviewed the plan which was 1. sneak out 2. steal the prize 3. laugh like mad maniacal dinosaurs 4. snack 5. nap.

That plan is foolproof.

Jake and I sneaked ninja-like through dark alleys and then swam the river up to Sewickley.  Here we are after exiting the river.

You’d never guess you were looking at dinosaurs would you?  Sally is a genius seamstress by the way.  Also, you should see the size of her sewing machine.

Look how happy Jake is!  Am I not the best mentor in the whole world?

After once again reviewing the plan and also informing Jake that under no circumstances was he to eat any of the Lemieux family pets except fish, we disabled the alarm system using a trick I learned on MacGyver last week (God bless bubble gum and toothpicks!) and slipped into Sidney’s bedroom to find this:

Aw. Sleeping with the Cup. How cute.

I turned to Jake and I said, “Ok. very gently, pick it up.”

And Jake walked over and gently picked Sid up like a little baby, to which I said, “WHAT THE CRAP ARE YOU DOING?!”

And Jake looked very confused and said, “I thought we were picking up dinner!”

Kids these days. I swear. Can’t even steal right.

After I set him straight, Jake gingerly returned a still-sleeping Sid to his bed then I grabbed the Cup, gave it a quick smooch and we were off.

Unfortunately for us, we didn’t know Billy Guerin was also staying the night at Mario’s place.  He saw us sneaking off the property and promptly hopped in his car to chase us down while angrily punching Norm’s number into his cellphone to let him know what I had done.  I can’t for the life of me figure out how he knew it was us. I mean, hello? Disguises!

I guess Jake just doesn’t make a very good ninja.

This is the last thing I remember as I slipped into a tranq-induced unconsciousness:

Pretty sure he’s telling me where I can go and it’s not “to have a nap.”

The Cup is gone. But I had it briefly. I kissed it. I hugged it. I drank out of it. I wore it as a hat.

I’m in a WORLD of trouble.

I haven’t seen Norm this mad since I flicked his car into the river because I was teaching Jake about objects that sink versus objects that float.

Here’s a lesson for you today. Cars? Not very floaty!

Rawr!


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.


Rex

CAR-NEEE-VAHL!

The Student Carnival was held recently here at AIP and I have to say this year may have been the best one yet.

Norm was kind enough to send me the pictures he took while I was busy enjoying the festivities with my worshipers the students.

Here I am preparing for the Twinkie-eating contest.

Do I really need to tell you that I won? Do I really need to tell you that I ate 544 Twinkies in 4 seconds and that I could have eaten about half a ton more if they hadn’t run out of Twinkies?  That’s just poor event planning, is what that is.   After dealing with the angry students and their false claims of “Rex, DINOSAURS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE TWINKIE-EATING CONTEST!” I headed over to this table because first, there was a babe running the sno-cone machine and second, look at that guy in the red CLEARLY gesturing to me to eat all the cotton candy in the machine.

That’s a “Have at it, Rex!” face if I ever saw one. So I did.  After I dealt with the angry students and their ridiculous whining of “REX, YOU ATE ALL THE COTTON CANDY, YOU GIANT GLUTTONOUS JERK!” I then headed over to the bull-riding arena.

As you can see, that bull looks delicious.

After dealing with the angry students and their pouting and crying of, “REX, THAT WAS A MECHANICAL BULL!  YOU ARE GOING TO BE POOPING PARTS FOR WEEKS!” I realized I may have gone a BIT too far, so I apologized to the students, and graciously offered to give them all dino-back rides around the place for only a dollar each.

It wasn’t until about the 35th student took their turn “riding” me around that I realized that 544 Twinkies, 200 servings of cotton candy, and a rusting mechanical bull are murder even on a giant monstrous killer death lizard’s stomach.

So I headed home a bit early to mess with Norm’s Apple stuff and to steal his socks.  All in all, a great day was had.

Also, pooping rusting mechanical parts? Not that bad.

Rawr.


Rex

I rawr for ice cream!

Today at AIP the Culinary Recipe Development Club, or as I call them MY BEST FRIENDS, are hosting a sundae bar in the student lounge.

The bar is available from 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. and again from 3:30 to 5:00 p.m.

If you’re looking for me, I’ll be eating delicious sundaes with MY BEST FRIENDS from 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. and again from 3:30 to 5:00 p.m.

Sure I’ll get brain-freeze painful enough to cripple a brontosaurus, but still, worth it.

Also, speaking of dinosaurs and ice cream, I recently learned that my old girlfriend Gertie opened up her own ice cream store at Disney.

It was news to me, but not so much to Sally who said, “Well, that explains why she’s so fat.”

Sally + jealousy = mrowr hisssss

Rawr.


Rex

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.

LOL!

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.  Smithsonian.com 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.

Rawr.


Rex

Don’t don’t don’t. Zzzzz.

Here in Pittsburgh they’re really gearing up for the G-20 summit, making sure the city looks its very very best for the leaders of the world when they come for a two-day visit in September.

Mayor Ravensthal stopped by to visit me the other day and boy, did he have a look on his face that was all business.

He stopped by to tell me that it’s important that Pittsburgh be clean and shiny for this event, as the “world … will … be … watching!”

At which point I interjected with “dum-dum-duh-duuuuuh!”

He wasn’t amused and he left me with a list of don’ts.

  • Don’t eat anything that isn’t dead, and that includes the trees. (Psst. Mayor? Me = T-Rex. Me = eat meat. Trees = plant = no blood = ptewie! Blech!)
  • Don’t moonwalk.
  • Don’t jaywalk.
  • Don’t walk.  Be a statue.  A good, non-alive statue. (Soooo ignoring this one.)
  • Don’t throw, kick, flick, or fling any human, animal, or vehicle into any of the three rivers for any reason whatsoever, I don’t care if the President of Mexico puts a sombrero on your head and force feeds you habanero peppers.   (That’s fine.  The side of a building is always a good substitute for the rivers when one is flinging humans. Also, President of Mexico, I like tequila. Just saying.)
  • Don’t yell, don’t swear, and don’t roar. (Crossing that one off, too.)
  • If you choose to yell, swear, or roar, brush your teeth first. (Offended.)
  • Don’t storm into the meetings and demand any rights for dinosaurs.  I will personally shoot you on sight.  (dum-dum-duh-duuuuuuh!)
  • Don’t leave entrails or carcass of any sort out in plain sight.
  • Don’t make anyone, and I mean ANYONE, pee their pants in fright.  (Phooey! Oh, wait. He didn’t say anything about number two. Woo!)

But seriously, I’ll be on my best behavior, Mayor.

And I’m not crossing my fingers behind my back or anything.

Wink.

Rawr.