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

Rex

Noms. And I don’t mean kittehs.

Yesterday evening I was mentoring Jake in table manners (what? I’m a classy gentledino!) when this happened:

Jake: This is stupid.

Rex: What?

Jake: You teaching me table manners when we have no table and no actual food. What kind of mentor are you?

Rex: Um, the best mentor in the world.

Jake: [sigh] Fine. Tell me again about how to properly eat carcass without this rude “snarfing” you speak of.

Rex: As the best mentor in the world, I’ll do better than tell you.  I will show you.  Follow me.

Jake: Where are we going?!  Are we going to steal the Stanley Cup finally?!  I brought my camera and everything!

Rex: No, and shut up about that.  I told you I [wink] have no intention [wink] of stealing [wink wink] the Stanley Cup! We’re going upstairs to the culinary department here at AIP.

Jake: Wait. There’s a culinary department here?!  I thought this was an art school.

Rex: As the greatest mentor in the world, allow me to inform you that cooking is an art form. Let’s go.

That’s how it all started.

Here’s a picture Jake took of me sneaking into the culinary department.

What I don’t have pictures of are Jake and I snarfing down every morsel of food in the culinary department, of the faces of the staff when they saw we had snarfed every morsel of food in the culinary department, of the face of Norm when he was told by the staff that we snarfed every morsel of food in the culinary department, or of Norm giving me a finger-wagging “You are in Big Trouble, mister!” lecture before tranqing my classy dino butt.

And I certainly don’t have a picture of the blueprints of Mario Lemieux’s house showing ways to access the room in which Sidney keeps the Stanley Cup. I don’t have that AT ALL.

[wink]

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: , ,
Rex

Various Curiosities

1. No posting yesterday because I was busy with Jake, finalizing plans for the super secret caper we’re going to pull off that has nothing to do with a certain 35 lb. cup-like trophy currently residing somewhere in Sewickley. Nothing at all.

Heh.

2.  On twitter, I saw this from an adoring fan:

Well, you need only take a look at the movie poster and you’ll quickly see that this will be the greatest movie of this human generation and that it will win every single Oscar next year, even the foreign language film. It’s going to be that epic.

Woolly mammoth. Mmmm.  Plus, they come already equipped with after-meal toothpicks.

3. Are you jealous that Norm gets to hang out with a giant awesome dinosaur all the time? Do you wish you could get your own giant awesome dinosaur to wrangle and yell at and tranq?

Now, for the low low price of $48,000, you kind of can!

4.  Now, brace yourselves for some Math!

1 fearsome handsome dinosaur +

6 months +

20 hours of classes per week -

3 hours of necessary sleep per night +

1 time suctioning mentee

+ 35 tranqings

= VACATION!

I’m spending next week visiting my friends all around the world.

First stop, Scotland to visit my best friend Lester.  Here we are swimming in the lake the last time I was able to get out for a visit:

(source)

Ah, I can already hear the relaxing sounds of nature and the horrified screams of the people.

Someone be sure to check in on Norm for me from time to time, okay? I’m sure he’s going to miss having me around for target practice.

See you in a week!

Rawr.


era: Prehistoric . species: , , , ,
Rex

A vacation story. Pictures by Norm. Words by Rex.

Please accept my apologies that I did not post anything on Friday.  As you recall, that was graduation day at AIP, so you can imagine the hustle and bustle of the day for a graduate like me.

I’m not the only one that was AWOL on Friday.  As you also recall, my wrangler Norm was on vacation last week which meant I got to post whatever I wanted to without it having to go through The Wrangler Filter of Suctioning the Fun out of Everything.

Well, as it happens, Norm is too busy today to turn off my publishing abilities.  AND he emailed me some pictures from his trip. AND I don’t have to get his approval before I post them. And I love this.

Here’s Norm’s vacation photos.  With captions by Rex. Because all Norm did was clog my email with a bunch of enormous pictures and tell me he’d catch up with me later.  I guess it is up to me to fill in the blanks.

Only a dinosaur wrangler and maybe “Dr.” Matt Lamanna would use their vacation time to see MORE dinosaurs, but that’s exactly what Norm did with his vacation.

That’s his summer wrangler hat, in case you’re wondering.

What’s happening in that picture is Norm is thinking, “I miss Rex so much.  I wonder what that fearsome and far superior being is doing right now.”

NOT stealing the Stanley Cup, that’s for sure, Norm. No, sir, I would never do such a thing.

Moving on:

Ever see those pictures of people who position themselves just so and then pretend like they’re holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa?  Here’s Norm’s dinosaur version where he holds up the neck of what looks to be a dinosaur with a serious disease that turned her skin greenish blue.  Look, she’s totally about to puke on that car.  I hope that’s Norm’s car.

Ha. Ha. Norm. So funny. Look at you holding up the giant dinosaur neck with your head.

In that picture, Norm is thinking, “Rex is really the best dinosaur ever and I can only hope to one day be as magnanimous, awesome, perfect, popular and brilliant as he. When I get back home to Pittsburgh I am totally taking him to the farm for a snack.”

And finally, we have this picture:

Apparently, as he often does, Norm has done something to tick off this puking puke-green dinosaur, because that’s a “you’re going to die now” look if I’ve ever seen one.

Instead of running for his life like he should, Norm is thinking, “Rex is just the best. It is far time I realized that I will never be as adored or magnificent as he. In fact, I miss him so much, I will never tranq him again. No matter what he does. Not even when he steals the Stanley Cup.”

Er. I mean IF.  “IF he steals the Stanley Cup.”

Wink.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: , ,
Rex

Smoooooth.

Can I just tell you how good it felt to shave my playoff beard once I tracked down a machete sharp enough to cut through the thick macho mass?

Here I am looking clean-shaven and as you can see, very very smart.

funny pictures
Graduation is set for Friday and the keynote speaker is Mayor Fetterman from Braddock.  He’s going to give me a shout-out in his speech.  I just know it, because I’m getting my 477th college degree and I’ve already got the silly hat to prove it.

One of those 477 degrees was a Bachelor of Arts in Stupid B.C.  Yes, I once learned the language of the cave people, but I’ve lost most of it now.  All I can say in Stupid B.C. these days is “meeka shoooka poobin reeree kaka foo” which roughly translates to “I eat you now, stupidface.”

Rawr.


Rex

Parade! Again!

Like all Pittsburghers, there are three things I can’t get enough of: ponies, fireworks, and parades.

Good thing we’re the City of Champions (and the Pirates. Oh, yes, I went there.) so we have lots of chances for ticker tape victory parades.

For the most part, the humans stayed off of me during the parade, until these two yahoos (technical term) hopped up for photos.

That is a photo from the Post-Gazette. (Excuse me while I look down at their building and hiss in the general direction of that [redacted by Rex] Scott Mervis. Hissss.)

First, the blond holding my hand? Total babe. Don’t tell Sally!

Second, the yahoos, they’re totally standing on me. It’s okay. Here’s the after picture:

Don’t mess with Rex, or you get the flung rubber band treatment.

Also, you’ll note I flung them through the air at such a speed they lost their clothes somewhere in midair.  I can’t even tell you how awesome that is.

Rawr.


Rex

Winner winner pony dinner!

Norm is on vacation this week and that means several things:

1. Free publishing rights for me, which means no stupid redacting when I want to call Marian Hossa a [redacted by Rex]. (I promised Norm I would behave. So I’m behaving and redacting myself. This is maturity, Norm!)

2.  No threat of being tranqed when I pick up anyone that dares climb up on me during today’s parade and I fling them into the Mon like a screaming rubber band. “Look at him fly!”

PENGUINS! Can we please recap?

Four games in which I had an octopus in my jaws = 4 wins

Three games in which I had NO octopus in my jaws = 3 losses

Clearly, I should be allowed a sip or two directly from the Stanley Cup. Or at the very least be allowed to walk in the parade to bask in the adoration of the entire city.

Hmph. Wonder what it will take for me to get my hands on the Cup? Just for a day or two.

I watched Game 7 with Norm and he only had to tranq me twice and I only had to tranq him once … right after the Red Wings scored and he went ballistic. But don’t worry, he came to in enough time to give me a good talking to right before Marc Andre Fleury made the save of his life as the last second ticked off the clock.

That earthquake you may have felt if you were anywhere near downtown was me picking up Norm like a baby doll and jumping up and down and up and down while roaring at the top of my roar.

The parade is going to be insane today.  If you’re downtown, stop by and say hi to your good friend Rex, without whom the parade would never have even been possible.

Also, if the Stanley Cup should mysteriously disappear at any point during the parade route and reappear in my hands, well, as usual, as always, I don’t know anything about that.

Rawr.


Rex

im in ur bordz …

funny pictures

Today is all about hockey.  I can’t stop thinking about hockey to the point that Sally can’t stand to be around me anymore because I’m like, “And then I ran into Matt Lamanna and hockey I chased him hockey for about three hockey blocks before hockey he started crying hockey hockey hockey.”

I can’t argue with her that I’m being obsessive.

There are so many things being said today by Penguins fans as we pump ourselves up.  Things like:

Psst. Councilman Peduto? THEY’RE going to take THEIR stuff over THERE.  Okay? Okay.

And so many pictures being emailed around as we attempt to express visually that which we feel way deep down but can’t find words adequate enough.  Things like:

Those pictures were actually created by AIP staff member Sunil Ketty

But despite what we say and despite what we create, it all … always … comes down to math.

Mojo > No Mojo

Iceburgh > Stinky dead eight-legged cephalopod

Everything on Earth > Marian Hossa

Me > Everything on Earth

Penguins > Red Wings

Rawr.


Rex

Various curiosities.

1. You must believe in the power of the Mojo Octopus by now.

I aged more over those 60 tense minutes of hockey than I have aged in my previous 65 million years on Earth.

I know for a fact my heart literally stopped beating as I watched Rob Scuderi play goalie for a scrambling Marc-Andre Fleury.

Luckily Norm was standing by to kick me in the chest as hard as he could to get the old ticker beating again.  And then I smacked him into the wall for having the audacity to kick me.

Game 7. We have the mojo. DON’T BE STUPID AND TRY TO STEAL THE MOJO!

2.  I’m getting even more famous now.

  • Pittsburgh Sports and Mini Ponies (delicious BITE-SIZED PONIES!) called me a “beast”, which, yes, the last time I looked in the mirror and smiled to reveal blood-stained teeth, I am very much a beast.  Then they also revealed that I’m not a bandwagon fan.  Of course I’m not a bandwagon jumper. I weigh 5 tons. I would DESTROY the bandwagon!
  • Yahoo! Sports’ Puck Daddy has posted twice about me and my penchant for munching on whimpering octopi for the sake of my entire city. I think he’s, like, in awe of me.
  • And last night, NBC showed me standing guard outside of AIP and the commentator asked, “Who is that little guy?”  Hey, NBC, come here and say that to my face you Red Wings-loving [redacted by Norm].

3.  Some guy named Dave Crawley came by to visit me today and to take pictures.

He must be a huge fan. I think I might need some velvet rope, Norm, for these groupies I’m acquiring.

Unless they’re girl groupies.  Especially cute girl groupies. But don’t tell Sally. She’s getting a bit jealous from all the attention I’m getting lately.

It’s kind of hot.

[Wrangler Note]

Rex, All this attention must be going to your head because you forgot to mention you’ll be on KDKA tonight around 6:45. Now all your “adoring” fans can tune in from home, no velvet rope needed.

4.    All of this excitement and fame and hunting down evil-doers has left me with barely no time to ride my motorcycle.

What?

You don’t believe me? The proof is in the picture:

You can go ahead and make fun of my helmet, but then you should ask yourself how badly do you want to be handed your own arm?

Rawr.

[print_link]


Rex

A picture story, with words. By Rex. Part II.

… and it came to pass that some insane, deranged, death-wishing ninja stole the octopus from Rex’s jaws as he slept one night, thereby giving the hated, evil, and still hideously ugly Red Wings their mojo back, resulting in a devastating shut-out in Game 5 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

The morning that Rex awoke to discover his octopus gone, he immediately destroyed three city blocks in anger.

As the dust settled, as the Mayor finished screaming at the AIP staff about “craters” and “fires” and “taxes” and “extinction” (whatever that means), Rex called Pageboy Norm to him and demanded not only the head of the person who stole the octopus, but also, if Norm had any designs on living another day, a new octopus.

In a burst of self-preservation, Pageboy Norm learned that Councilman Finnerty had a pet octopus that had been giving him the shifty-eyed “I will strangle you to death if you turn your back on me” look and generously offered it up to Rex in sacrifice to appease the angry Hockey Gods into the transfer of the Mojo.

This octopus was fatter, squishier, redder, and a whole lot more scared than the previous octopus.

Frightened and confused, the octopus reared its grotesque bulbous head in anger and stared into the eyes of the ferocious monster killer death lizard. The octopus bravely spat out, “Bite me, loser!”

Being a generous king, Rex obliged.

As he munched hungrily on the delicious octopus, savoring the suck of the moist suction cups, Rex addressed his people in a roaring voice.

“My people, hear my words and hear them well. Read my lips. Read the signals in the smoke shooting from my nostrils. If any of you dares to touch this octopus, this booby-trapped octopus, I might add, when I get my hands on you, you will beg for a speedier death than the octopus I just devoured. Step the heck off.”

And the Penguins went on to win Game 6 and Game 7 and Rex got lots of hot babes.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: , ,
Rex

Dinosaur, tranq thyself.

Okay, so listen. Norm is off today and he has left me with specific anti-destruction instructions that go something like this: “Don’t destroy anything in my absence or we will melt you down.”

Problem, SOMEONE STOLE MY FRICKIN’ OCTOPUS WHILE I WAS SLEEPING!

Are you kidding me?

This explains why the Pens lost and lost so miserably. Someone took the octopus and gave the Red Wings their mojo back.

Here are the people I’m currently stalking, believing they may have taken it:

1. “Dr.” Matt Lamanna. This might be wishful thinking on my part so that I finally have a legitimate excuse to give him the stretchy treatment. That’s when I grab your legs in one hand, your arms in the other and, well, you get the picture.

2. Whoever took my running shoes.

3. Scott Mervis. I will destroy him.

4. Barney. He just LOOKS like he would support a team that had a purple mascot. This also might be wishful thinking on my part so that I finally have a legitimate excuse to [redacted by Norm's boss].

5.  Marian Hossa. I WILL DESTROY HIM!

So, I’m going to be out and about for the remainder of the day trying to get to the bottom of this.

I need three volunteers:

  • One to find me a new octopus, dead or alive.
  • One to stand outside the Post-Gazette building and let me know if Scott Mervis shows the whites of his eyes.
  • One to tranq me when it finally really truly hits me that SOMEONE STOLE MY FRICKIN’ OCTOPUS.

RAWRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!