Yesterday I wrote a blog. It was about cake, and after I finished it I really wanted to eat some. Today I’ll be blogging about dinosaurs, and I hope it doesn’t have the same effect, because that will be more difficult to arrange.
My obsession with dinosaurs is a fairly recent development, which began as most illnesses do, subtly and with very few symptoms. I’d watch the occasional clip of Jurassic Park on YouTube, or flick through books on the Cretaceous Period with mild interest, just as any normal person would. Then it got worse. Soon, I was dressing up as a Jurassic Park ranger at public social events, baking dinosaur themed cakes and spending long hours on morphthing.com seeing what the offspring of myself and a brachiosaurus would look like*. I confronted the fact that this wasn’t normal behaviour, and realised I was okay with that. I was just going to be one of those people that really like dinosaurs.
In the time it’s taken for me to write this introduction, I’ve realised something. The majority of dinosaur names are four syllables long. This is what we call in the punning industry a ‘major issue’. This is going to be truly tragic:
Fossilly reasons, some of my friends have not watched Jurassic Park since they were children. Because of this, I decided a Jurassic Park Sleepover was necessary. I dino if anyone saur films number two and three, but they were jurassically terrible. So we settled on only watching one, with a themed dinner of turkey dinosaurs (the new recipe is meteor than the old one) and decorated cupcakes. We decided to stage this event at our friends’ house; it’s a bit of a trex to get there, but their living room is bigger. We brought along Harriet, even though our friends had never met herbivore, because she too needed to have this eggsperience. Everyone was en-raptored by the unfolding scenes of the InGenious film, despite the fact certain people kept making stupid comets, nobody got monstrously annoyed. By the end of the film, we were all totally wiped-out, and thought it was best to walk home and save the ‘sleepover’ section for another night. We stuck together for most of the walk so we weren’t nervous rex when crossing roads in the dark, though we still nearly got run over by an evolvo, but fortunately all made it safely home.
I want to apologise to everyone that just read that, and will be hoping along with you, that the only way is up.
I’ll end with the joke from Jurassic Park, as I’ve yet to discover a good dinosaur joke, and at least this way I deflect some of the contempt onto the little boy from the film. Remember, he had just nearly been eaten by a Tyrannosaurus-Rex, then fallen out of a tree, so may not have been at his comedy-peak. I wish I had that excuse:
What do you call a blind dinosaur?
What do you call a blind dinosaur’s dog?