Seeing as we have roughly the same interests as a sixth grade boy, it's no surprise that we love guys who get as psyched about dinosaurs as much as we do. For instance, we've watched Jurassic Park dozens of times. It still gives us goosebumps when they show the animation sequence about how they extracted the DNA from the amber. We've rented When Dinosaurs Roamed from Netflix and marveled at the CGI. We even watched King Kong in the theater just to see the amazing fight scene between Kong and a few badass T-Rexes. That movie sucked, but damn that fight scene was worth the price of admission.
And, our love for for our extinct homies extends beyond the screen. In fourth grade, we participated in a sleepover party at the local museum when they had their state-of-the-art animatronic dinosaur exhibit. Yes, we got to sleep with the dinos as they roared and growled with limited robotic motion. Well, we didn't get to sleep with them, but at least we got to sleep near them. It was radical.
We give props to Robert Bakker for refuting theories about dinosaurs being cold-blooded. That rules, bro. Sometimes we eat chicken and ruminate on the fact that they are dinosaur descendants. How weird is that? Attention men of Philadelphia: We dig it when you take us on a date to the Franklin Institute to marvel at the dinosaur bones. We also like it when you have a favorite dinosaur and you can tell us why in a reasonably detailed manner. Dino dudes, fuck yeah!