Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

Rex

Putting some junk in my trunk.

Norm sent me an email asking me to give him some junk.

I’m not even joking.  See.

WE NEED YOUR JUNK! PLEASE SHARE WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS and PEOPLE WHO MIGHT WANT TO DONATE ITEMS FOR OUR SALE!

The all-caps makes me think that he URGENTLY needs my junk.  He tells me it is for the upcoming AIP Rummage Sale on June 3, which helps provide scholarships for the students — my kids.

Boy, 65-million-years of life brings a whole lot of junk.

I’m donating the following, so if you wish to buy them, and I know you will, you should get there bright and early for the sale to wrestle with the other Rex-lovers trying to get their hands on my things:

1.  One very damaged pair of giant pink bunny ears.

2.  One very damaged set of giant bagpipes.

3.  A very expensive watch monogrammed with ML.  I have no idea where I got it or who ML is, but I bet there’s a really ticked off paleontologist tearing through his stuff right now. But I don’t know anything about that.

4.  Some old audiotape marked “W-Gate”.  No clue.

5.  Carmen Sandiego’s hat. That’s right. Who found her? This dino.

Anyway, get out your junk, throw it in your trunk, and head over to the 1st Avenue loading dock in the rear of the AIP building – read the poster for complete details. Say hello to your good friend Rex when you stop by, however, be warned that if your junk includes a dinosaur-sized pair of running shoes … it is so on.

Rawr.

rummagesale09

Click for larger image.

[print_link]


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

Twitter scrounging.

When I’m bored, which tends to happen when the foot traffic slows down on the Boulevard (Rex + no humans to scare = bored monstrous killer death lizard), I like to search around the twitterverse and see what I can find.

Today was an exceptionally good hunting day with me placing just as many people on my LOVE list as I did on my KILL AND EAT list.

First are the LOVE:

Took the words right out of my pointy teeth-filled mouth.

I HEART YOU, TOO, CALIPANTHERGRL! (Don’t tell Sally!)

Isn’t that just cute as crap!?

Wow. Quoted on twitter! I feel so famous.

Hey, that IS the sound I make when I run!

It could be, lcmcbeth. Especially if you live in Pittsburgh anywhere near “Dr.” Matt Lamanna.  He’s so fun to chase and the more speed I get going the more “booommmm shaka-laka” it gets.

Now these are the KILL AND EAT twitterers:

So original. Bravo.

He was a “LOVE” with his first tweet on the bottom there, but by the time he tweeted his last tweet at the top? KILL AND EAT!

Oh, again! Bravo! Encore!

Die.

This one is neither LOVE nor KILL AND EAT.  It’s just funny!

And finally, there’s my wrangler Norm who tweeted this immediately after Letang’s goal last night in overtime:

Wow, Norm. Your English is solid as a rock, my friend.

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

Various Curiosities.

1.  As you are aware, the Penguins are deep in the throes of the second round of the playoffs and I am STILL not wearing any Penguins gear. Not a flag, a jersey, a stick, a puck, a sliver of ice, a helmet, the lifeless body of Marian Hossa. Nothing.

Norm, if I don’t have something Penguin-y by tomorrow, do not blame nor tranq me when I’m forced to either steal a real live tuxedo-wearing slippery penguin from the zoo or to just grab a Penguin from his bed (probably Petr Sykora – he’s not too busy) and then stand here and wave his angry, thrashing body like a flag to passersby.

Sure some of them might be asking, “Is that guy screaming in Czech begging us for help?” but most of them would be saying, “Good ole’ Monstrous Killer Death Lizard Rex. Now THERE’S a true fan.”

Me. Penguins. Make it happen.

2. Hey, look. I’m famous and stuff now. Stop by and see me and maybe I’ll give you an autograph if you bring me meat.

3.  Today’s edition of Okay/Not Okay involves dinosaur cartoons.

Here’s one that is okay:

Cute kid.

And here we have NOT OKAY:

Wow.  That is so original. Oooh, look at the dinosaur, look at his tiny little arms, look at his giant gnashing teeth coming at me, look at the enveloping darkness.

Rawr.


Rex

Zing!

What a refreshing run that was for me and what a crushing defeat that was for the humans in the race.

Did you come downtown to cheer on your good friend Rex as he crossed the finish line 45 minutes before any other runner in the Pittsburgh Marathon? I did spy one or two “Go, Monstrous Killer Death Lizard Rex, Go!” posters as I whizzed by the blur of crowds.

Norm managed to snag one picture before I really picked up speed:

I know it’s terribly blurry and you can barely see the awesome Nikes that Norm found for me, but taking a clear picture of a T-Rex running is like trying to take a picture of heaven.

Good luck with that.

You might read in the newspaper that an Ethiopian man was the first across the finish line, but that is just because he was the first HUMAN to cross the finish line. The race organizers angrily waved a rule book at me after I completed the race.  Something about non-humans being ineligible.

I don’t know.

I ate the book before I could read it.

Rawr.


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

Hot diggity!

Norm sent me an email:

Dear Monstrous Killer Death Lizard Rex,

As an expert wrangler, I spent the better part of the day yesterday chasing down a snack for you.

Enjoy.

Your wrangler,

Norm

Despite his penchant for tranqing me for no good reason (sometimes, things need to be stomped, Norm. It’s the law of nature.) and despite his penchant for dressing me so ridiculously it makes my eyes roll back in my head, sometimes Norm is awesome.

Look what he caught for me!

I’m going to set this thing free full-speed down the Boulevard and then pretend it is a fleeing and weeping velociraptor. I relish the chase.

Hey! Norm, where’s the relish?

RAWR!


Rex

Various Curiosities

1.  Oh, Penguins.

Grrrrr.

2. Oh, FSN and The Great Outage of 2009 During Which Pens Fans All Over Pittsburgh Came Close To Descending On FSN Headquarters While Moaning BRAINS. BRAIIIIIIINS.

Hisssssss.

3.  In comments to my post about the students being do-gooders this week, two people commented wanting to remind you students to complete your FAFSAs because you only have until next week to do it and if you don’t do it, you can kiss your financial aid money goodbye.

Then I imagine it will be like that Geico commercial where everywhere you turn there will be a pile of cash with eyeballs on it and someone will say to you, “Oh, that? That’s just the money you could have had if you had BOTHERED TO FILL OUT THE FAFSA!”

Do it, because I told you to. Because I care about you. Because I will bite you if you don’t.

See what you did? You made me resort to violence.  I abhor violence.

What?

4.  My marathon training is really going great with me running 26 miles in an hour yesterday. I would have gotten a better time if I didn’t swing by the Carnegie Museum to … uh …

Never mind.  I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING, NORM!

5. Why Calvin should be in charge of everything forever and ever.

I accept.

6.  If the giant T-Rex skeleton at the Carnegie crumbles to the ground this weekend, I have no idea what you’re talking about.

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.