Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

Rex

Erin go away and stop dressing me so ridiculously.

Zeus’s lightning bolts, readers!

I woke up this morning and, well … bagpipes?  REALLY?

At first I assumed the students were playing a joke on me because this is Friday the 13th and if you read on down, you’ll see what Friday the 13th means to a dinosaur.

But this is not a joke.  This is a school-approved Saint Patrick’s Day costume.

I have some things I’d like to say about this:

1.  Who is in charge of costuming me?  I’d like a name; I’d like a location and I’d like to show that person my teeth.

2.  Does my colossal mouth filled with those aforementioned sharp teeth look like it has any chance at all of puckering around that tiny bagpipe mouth piece?  I don’t think so.  Next year, just give me some shiny beads to throw to the ladies.

3.  I’m pretty sure the bagpipes are supposed to go UNDER my arm.  First person to make a “ha-ha.  T-rexes have tiny little useless arms” joke is also going to get up close and personal with my sharp teeth.

4.  It was 20 degrees last night.  You think I could have had a scarf or something?  I’m hoarse this morning and my rawr sounds like a little kitten purring at a piece of lint.  Not very useful when I need to let the students know I don’t appreciate being leaned on.  I need a thunder-filled RAWR for that if I want to make them pee their pants.  That’s just funny.

5. I can’t be sure, but I think I’m really holding a faded Italian flag.

6.  The city’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade is coming right past me tomorrow so I’ll have the best seat on the street.  My flickr stream is going to be off the hook.  A note:  If you climb up on me to get a better view of the parade, I cannot be held responsible for the injuries you suffer when my dinosaur instincts kick in and whisper to me that you smell just like a juicy hadrosaur. You’ve been warned.

Rawr.


Rex

Friday the 13th. Boo!

Friday the 13th!  Friday the 13th is supposed to be some sort of spooky bad news kind of day for humans, but for us dinosaurs it’s much different.  This is the day I like to play practical jokes on the students here at AIP.  Art students, I tell you what, they scare easily.

When I was a wee lad growing up in Montana, me and my best friends would play some seriously brilliant practical jokes on the cave-dwellers.

Me, Art, Fred, Don, and Sally would wait until the cave family fell asleep.  This ususally involved us waiting until the kids finished coloring on the walls and Mom and Dad tucked them into their corners to sleep.  After Dad was done dragging mom around by the hair, we would hear them snoring loudly.  This was our cue.  The five of us, all 20 tons of us, would creep to the mouth of the cave and start jumping up and down, shaking so violently the very earth the cave family slept on that they were convinced the angry gods were rending the earth in two.

The whole family would run screaming out of the cave and we’d be pointing and laughing,“Ha-ha-ha! It’s just us! Rawr!” and they’d be mad and waving sticks at us shouting, “A googla pleegla ba ba boo! Sritchy meetcha fee fee!”

I have no idea what that means.  I don’t speak Stupid B.C.

Rawr.


era: Prehistoric . species: