Presented by The Art Institute of Pittsburgh

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

Rex

Art. By Rex. Breathtaking.

Grab your medicinal inhalers or brown paper bags and have a seat because Rex is about to take your breath away.

Norm gave me some new art supplies! I assume it is because he recognized my talent and not so much because I threatened to [redacted by Norm] him.

And that’s the story of how I got my hands on something other than a Sharpie.

First up is a painting I did of me chasing some cavemen back in prehistoric times.

Notice that I’ve already killed one.  Note the blood on my lips. Note how stupid cavemen look when they run. That little splotch of a caveman in the middle is actually Blor’s kid Blor. I bet for all the times I’ve talked about him, you were dying to know what he looked like. Now you know. I’ll sell this to you for $15,000 or to a museum for $150,000 or to a babe in exchange for a walk along the North Shore while you hold my hand and DON’T TELL SALLY!

Next up, my painting of a Steelers game:

Note the attention I paid to getting just the right shape to the football. It wasn’t easy to do that so perfectly, trust me. Also, you can clearly distinguish between who is a Steeler and who is a Patriot can you not? I will sell this to you … no, never mind. I am going to save this for when we win the Super Bowl and I will have Ben Roethlisberger autograph it and THEN I will sell it for 75 million dollars. This is a good plan.

Finally, I took the time to paint my love Sally for you:

Listen, I realize she is stunning, but if you don’t stop drooling over her I will have no recourse other than to hunt you down and de-limb you. Back off. She’s mine. I will sell this … uh, wait … hang on. I got an email from Sally. Whoa. She’s not happy about this painting. She wants to know why she has a giant mustache. You know what? I don’t think Sally understands fine art.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic,Prehistoric . species: , ,
Rex

The day you’ve been waiting for.

Remember when I wrote that I asked Norm for some art supplies because I had a hunch that after 65 million years of living, I’m probably a fantastic artist?

To Norm “art supplies” apparently meant a tablet of paper and a Sharpie.

It doesn’t matter. He could have given me a piece of cardboard and a broken white crayon and I still would have created a masterpiece called Snow. Talent like this isn’t limited by mere art tools.

My point here is that 1. Norm is cheap and 2. I AM a fantastic artist!

First up, this is my portrait of Norm, my wrangler, my handler, my sometimes friend, and my carcass bringer:

Note the attention to detail. Norm has clearly just unloaded his tranq gun into me and is laughing with evil glee as I fall slowly to the ground. Note his true-to-life nose. Note his dorky hat. I call this one “Norm”. You can buy the original from me for $6,500 or a dead sheep. Whatever you’ve got.

Here’s one I drew of the Mayor reading me the list of things I am not allowed to do during G-20:

You’ll note from my expression that I zoned out somewhere between number 1 and the end of number 1. Also, note the dorky hat. I’m not selling this one because I think “Selling dorky pictures of me” was number 622 on the list. I call this one “Blah Blah Blah”.

Here I am swimming in the river.

Note I’m not wearing any clothes. Note my incredible biceps. I’m selling this one for $7,000, unless you are a babe, then you can have it for free as long as you DON’T TELL SALLY!

Speaking of babes, here is my drawing of some adoring fans seeking pictures and autographs:

Note the babe and the look of adoration in her eyes. Note that I am considering disposing of her boyfriend with the dorky hair.  Note my incredible biceps.

Now that I’ve finally shared my talent with the world, I’m going to talk to Norm about holding a show at the gallery here at AIP. If these sketches alone don’t convince him of my talent, then this one surely will:

I call it “Cow”. I know. It’s terrifying how awesome I am.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic . species: , ,
Rex

Vacaciones!! Muy divertida! Muchos nom noms!

The post you’ve been waiting for is finally here.

Shut your office door, put you phone on mute, tell your yappy girlfriend to shhh (not you, Sally.  I love it when you go on and on and on and on about God knows what. Love that.) and have a look at my best vacation pictures.

First up, I headed to my old stomping grounds, the play yard where my dino friends and I used to play with dominoes. Some of those dominoes are still standing today, so of course I wanted to get my picture taken there.

(source)

Let me tell you, they were NOT happy when I knocked a few of the dominoes over last week. Not happy at all.  Running after me all, “Bullocks! Chivvy along now, you bloody beast!”

Fighting off the angry throngs of silly humans, I worked up quite an appetite, so logically, I hit Ireland for some snacks.

sheepshadow

(source)

If you think ribs are messy, you’d be flabbergasted at how messy a dino gets after a herd of sheep, so off I went to Iceland to take a bath in the Blue Lagoon:

(source)

Or, as it could be called now, The Reddish Blue Lagoon.

It’s a delightful color, really.

I spent the next few days visiting my old girlfriend.

(source)

Boy did she pick a bad plastic surgeon for her nose job. Yikes.

Sally was THRILLED with this picture. “What’d she do, get hit in the face by an asteroid?!”

I bid Sphinxie ado and headed over to China to have a look see at their supposedly giant wall.

(source)

What do you know, it’s a GIANT wall.

Couldn’t kick it down no matter how hard I tried.

Anyway, one frantic “I’M IN JAIL … IN CHINA!!” call to Norm later, I was free but hungry from the begging and crying, so that of course meant … snack:

(source)

Good ole’ China.

If you think sheep are bad, you ought to have seen me after I [redacted by Norm because of blood and gore].

By this time, it was almost time to head by home to AIP and I didn’t want to come home smelling like I just [exact same thing redacted again].

Shower time!

(source)

Dear Canadians. Don’t have giant showers if you don’t want giant animals showering entrails off in them. Gosh.

For all the freaking out you did, it’s not like I came to your country and feasted on your … what does Canada even have, eh? Other than delicious exotic French-Canadians.

Fresh and clean and worn out from my travels, I headed home to Norm who greeted me with open arms and the tranq gun powered down to 50%.

Perfect for a long nap.

Also, Norm, when the Chinese embassy calls about some cows, or the Spanish embassy about some bulls, or the French embassy about some sissy Frenchmen … I don’t know anything about that.

Rawr.


era: Cenozoic,Prehistoric . species: ,
Rex

Various Curiosities

1. Mwah-hahaha!  Mwah-haha!  Mwah-ha!

Hah-ha!

Heh.

[cough]

I’m not up to anything at all, why do you ask?

Wink.

2.  I’m still going through my vacation photos to pick the best ones to share with you.  I especially like the ones of me going over the Niagara Falls.

Just you wait.

3.  Pittsburgh’s PrideFest was held last month and I found this picture in my inbox.

First: Fuscia is another color I look awesome in. Second: What about DINOSAUR rights?

I’d like the right to marry Sally, vote in the mayoral election, and skinny dip in the Mon without the humans getting all up in my face about the waves washing their cars off the wharf.

4. AIP’s website got a new visual look, but the most important thing you should note: I’m on the front page now!

5.  Two things on twitter:

That links takes you to this post.  Note the text on top of the box: “Your very own ‘real’ baby dino.”  Good thing they put the word real in quote marks because that deformed ball of green fluff would absolutely be mistaken for a real baby dinosaur.  If you’ve never seen a giant monstrous killer death lizard roll its eyes, you’re missing quite a show here.

6. Also this:

Aw. Norm missed me. And don’t be fooled by the “kind of” nonsense because I heard from Sally that when she dropped by Norm’s one day while I was on vacation, she found him huddled on the floor in the fetal position, cradling his tranq gun in his arms while moaning, “I miss my best friend!”

Which is great because then maybe he won’t feel the need to tranq me once I do that sneaky mwah-haha thing I’m not really going to do.

Totally going to behave myself and not steal the Stanley Cup. Wink.

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

Rex’s (and Sally’s) Call

All this hockey insanity (I still have the Mojo Octopus in my jaws. It has been bolted and booby-trapped and possibly wired with explosive dino poop, so again, step off) means that I haven’t checked in with Cat and her jaunty hat lately to give you advice from a dinosaur’s perspective.

Let’s see what delicious nuggets of wisdom she wrote this week:

DEAR CAT: Last year at this time I was diagnosed with cancer and began months of chemotherapy. I am happy to say I beat it and am now cancer-free! My question to you is: Am I damaged goods, so to speak, when it comes to women and dating now? I am a single, straight, never-been-married, educated thirtysomething male. I’m pretty average-looking and in decent shape. I have a great family and wonderful friends. Why am I still single? I have always been a “friend” to girls, not a “boyfriend,” and I don’t know why. Since I’ve had limited success in the past with women, it seems that being a cancer survivor is a strike against me. I appreciate your thoughts. — DAMAGED GOODS?

REX’S CALL: I’m a guy. A giant, handsome, muscular guy, so I didn’t think I could offer advice to you about this, so I asked my girlfriend Sally to give you advice.  She said:

SALLY’S CALL: Mmmmmmmrawr. Cancer survivors are hot. Don’t tell Rex.

Uh, Sally, I’M RIGHT HERE! God.

Anyway, sir, you’re not damaged goods. Go find yourself a girl, grab her by the shoulders, show her a scar and say, “Yo. I beat cancer. Kiss me.”

How do you think I landed Sally? I grabbed her and said, “Yo. I beat the extinction. Kiss me.”

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

And it was so.

… and it came to pass that Rex was very prophetic.

What did I tell you? You eat their terrified octopi, you take away their mojo.

One down. Three to go.

Also, suction cups are delicious and very sucky.  In a good way.

My willingness to eat one for the team, so to speak, has gained me some new lady admirers on twitter:

My responses are, from top to bottom:

  1. I love you, too. (Don’t tell Sally!)
  2. No. (Don’t tell Sally!)
  3. LIAR!

I would sooner kiss that [redacted by Norm] “Dr.” Matt Lamanna before I would ever reject a kiss from a babe. She must have me confused with another handsome dinosaur.

And then there’s this.

Yeah, you go poop out a penguin and then come back and tell me if “funny” is really the appropriate word to describe the experience.

Rawr.


Rex

Various Curiosities

1.  It begins Saturday. Red Wings. Penguins. Rematch.

Let’s break it down with Math Time with Rex: Making you Mathier

1 2008 Red Wings team

+ 1 very despicable Marian Hossa

+ Bad Karma

- God

+ The Devil

<

1 2008 Penguins team

- 1 despicable Marian Hossa

+ 1 Bill Guerin

+ God

+ Good Karma

That’s right. This year, we’re the better team.

2.  I found another great picture of my hockey-playing days for you to enjoy.

I agree with you, orange really is a great color on me. Wow.

Note the blood stains on my teeth. It goes without saying that this was an exceptionally bad day for Blor’s kid Blor.

You’re going to high-stick a monstrous killer death lizard, you’re going to get up close and personal with the hangy thing in the back of my throat.

Yes, dinos have those, too.

You learned something today!

3.  This KIND of makes me feel bad about how much I hate the Red Wings:

God help me, but I kind of love Beth, too.

Don’t tell Sally!

She’s still mad about Gertie.

4.  When I first saw these cookies being sold at the Pretzel Shop in the South Side I thought to myself, Rex, clearly these people are huge fans of yours and so much so that they have baked cookies in your image.

But then I noticed the cookies were … purple.

And then I realized maybe these are … Barney cookies?

BARNEY COOKIES?! In PITTSBURGH?! WHERE I LIVE?!  WHERE I RULE?!?

I didn’t get a chance to “speak” to the owners because I blacked out.  I suspect Norm tranqed me, but I can’t be sure since when I came to he was nowhere to be found.

So listen, if you see Norm cowering somewhere in fear mumbling, “Just sit still. Stop shaking. He’ll never look here.” Don’t disturb him. Just tell me where he is and I’ll play hide and seek and eat with him.

He loves that game.

Rawr.

 


Rex

Sweeping up after the Scattered Showers

No, I’m not doing chores, regardless of how many times Norm and Sally have asked me to clean up after myself.

I asked Norm to get me a broom to celebrate the Penguins’ recent sweep of the Carolina Hurricanes.

Or as I call them, the Carolina Scattered Showers.  Poor inconsistent, random, isolated Scattered Showers.

Did you notice that Sidney Crosby and other Penguins touched the Prince of Wales Trophy when that is considered to be bad luck? It is interesting to note that your friend Rex had a role in the origin of that superstition.  You see way way way … WAY back when I played hockey, my team did not win the Prince of Wales Trophy and as they presented the trophy to the captain of the winning team, Blor’s kid Blor … well, I lost it.  I couldn’t stand to see him touching the trophy, so I chomped him good and he never skated again.

Thus, kids, it became known that it is really bad luck to touch the Prince of Wales Trophy.  You could get chomped.

But moving on, bring on the Red Wings. Bring on Marian Hossa (mostly so I can eat him). Bring on their giant smelly octopi. Bring it all. The Penguins will have an answer.

You’ll also notice from the above picture a few other things:

1. Playoff beard, still awesome.

2.  Me, still handsome.

3.  Background, we’re getting ready for graduation here at AIP.  Doesn’t it appear that two of those arms belong to a person trying to grab my tail, or worse yet, grab my butt?

Wow. Both of those are really really bad ideas.

Rawr.