Days of Paleontology

That's a big word, isn't it? Paleontology? I'm sorry, I will endeavour to keep my loquacious confabulations to a minimum.  Most people think paleontology is just about the study of Sarah Palin, but this just isn't true.  It's also about the study of really, really old stuff.  I know, I'm a rocket scientist now.  I have a keyring from NASA's Kennedy Space Centre to corroborate this claim. 

I write on the very topical matter of dinosaurs because my Disney hotel in Florida was replete with baby-sized prehistoric, histrionic tyrannosaurus rex'.  They were everywhere.  They run in front of you as you walk the pavements of the hotel and the evidence that they don't always make it to the other side is smeared on the pretty cobblestones of the Port Orleans, French Quarter themed resort.

Ants - who are, on average, very short - probably don't even know that dinosaurs are extinct.  Not that I've seen any ants in Florida.  Or flies.  America doesn't deserve to not have any flies.  Oh wait, I did see a fly; he/she tried to steal one of my fries.  But that was just one fly, and I think the exception proves the rule, no?

Speaking of things that are or should be extinct, one can buy a leg of a T-Rex to eat for your dinner at Disney.  Or they could be turkey limbs; you really don't know these days.  Especially in Florida; land of the nutjobs.  Many people walk around with these repulsive bits of meat hanging out of their mouth like Captain Caveman, and the meat is all pink and raw-looking and still quivering in its dinosaur booties.  Seriously gross.

In other dinosaur-related hearsay - who knew there would be so much - today I ventured out into big, tall, stinking New York City for a day of stuffed creatures at the American Natural History Museum.  It was chockers full of real, fake and real/fake combo dinosaurs, mammals, tigers and other things I've never heard of.  And it was brilliant. I will discuss this at another time because it is now sleep time for me.