Stegosaur = Badass

Stegosaurus = Badass

Today's reading:

Some scientist type says Stegosaur plates and spikes were for looks.

Now, I don't have any kind of formal training or experience when it comes to things dinosaur. But I have knowledge in my soul that I need to share with you people. Something I've known better than my own name, for all my life.

I'm here to whip some knowledge at you, some truth, if you will, about Stegosaurs.

Facts:

1. Stegosaur is a badass
2. Stegosaur can speak many languages
3. There are no Stegosaurs in the land of Oz.
4. Stegosaur can whip your ass.
5. Stegosaur has three opposable thumbs.
6. Those plates? Badass.
7. He'll stab you with his tail spikes. So watch it.
8. Some Stegosaurs are vampires
9. Badass vampires.
10. Stegosaur doesn't need a hole in his head to breathe, like Brachiosaurus. Stegosaur just beats the water out of the pond, and then wanders into it. Because he's a badass.

History:

Stegosaur was my favorite, when we learned about dinosaurs in kindergarten.

One of my earliest introductions to the B/S that is the educational process was getting in trouble for how I did a color sheet of Stegosaur fighting a Tyrannosaur. I colored the Stegosaur the correct color. Stegosaur is blue. I colored the tyrannosaur green, with great blobs of red mixed in. This, I believed, portrayed damage the tyrannosaur would have taken in a fight with the mighty Stegosaur as well as I could. See, the color sheet was white, and I tried to make a viewer believe that Tyrannosaur had bones sticking through, a result of his ill-advised fight. But my talents weren't yet fully realized.

Anyway, back to the point. Tyrannosaurs are pussies. What with those tiny arms. Everybody knows that.

Everybody except my kindergarten teacher, who expressed dismay at my interpretation of the coloring scene.

She insisted that the two weren't even fighting.

Bullshit. Stegosaur would whip Tyrannosaur's ass. The tyrannosaur respects this fact, but sometimes Stegosaur has to bring the thunder anyway.

Also, when we went to hang the pictures, I insisted that mine be turned sideways, so that Stegosaur would be on top. I still believe that everybody would get what I was saying.

Yeah. Stegosaur whipped Tyrannosaur's ass, and then was standing (or, perhaps, lying down) upon Tyrannosaur's bloody corpse. Victorious.

My request for proper respect was denied.

My rebuttal to the denial led to my not getting to play outside at recess.

This is neither here nor there, but our play area in kindergarten was right next to the water/sewer filtration tanks at Riceville School. These big roiling tanks of toilet water right next to where five-year-olds are playing. How do you like that?

Anyway. Now, some 23 years later, I have some ninny scientist splaying out his guesswork in a white coat, telling me some crap like Stegosaur's plates were for looks. No better, perhaps, than protective coloration.

Yeah. I'd like some pansy scientist to say such a thing to stegosaur's face.

Between you, me and this computer monitor? Saying something like that about a badass like Stegosaur? And waiting to do that until Stegosaur's been dead a quite a few million years? That's a small, petty man who throws that kind of thing out there. He's probably still getting beaten up by sixth graders for lunch money.

But we know, don't we?

Just wanted to throw that at you.

(Story on Fark, which I love like the circus.)