Showing posts with label Prehistoric Forest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prehistoric Forest. Show all posts

Monday, May 31, 2010

The Prehistoric Forest Wants Your Childhood, To Fuel Its Spacecraft



Q: Why did the dinosaur cross the road?

A: To rip your fucking head off, duh. With cunning.


Q: What is a dinosaur's favorite thing to eat?

A: Laser Beams.


Q: Why are lady dinosaurs afraid of mirrors?

A: Because they are afraid the sweetness and light reflecting back at them will blind their magic-sensitive eyes.


Q: Where there really giant prehistoric snakes?

A: No. That's an actual snake.


Q: Did the hunter, lost in the monsoon, ever find his sloth village again, and bring food back to his starving sloth children?

A: There are no more giant sloths for a reason.


Q: Am I safe?

A: I am not sure.


Q: No really, should I run?

A: I mean, it's not the worst idea. If you are wrong, the park attendants will just assume you are shrooming, and if you are right, you will still be alive with a generally intact soul. Though it will never be as shiny as it once was.


Q: Shit, is that a giant bug?

A: That is the Prophet of the Praying Mantis, the founder and saint of the grass green hordes, who taught all daughters the techniques of the blood sacrifice, and protects young girls from cowardice.


Q: Don't you totally get the same feeling from this *triceratops* that you get when you read about talking badgers in young adult novels?

A: I've often thought that reading talking animal adventure novels is as addicting as porn. And dangerous. Badgers are nasty little creatures really, and very unlikely to offer you a cup of tea and a ham sandwich. Though I wouldn't put it past them to slaughter pigs and cure their meat.


Q: Wait, isn't that me?

A: Yes, that's you.


Q: Why did mother dinosaurs guard their nests so well, when they knew they were going extinct, when they felt it in the ashy winds and blood soaked sunsets?

A: ...

Q: Is it going to ask me a question?

A: Since giant cobras obviously never existed, I can only believe that one of the sculptors was a secret worshipper of the Cult of the Cobra, a group of women in Lamia who transformed into the deadly snakes and devoured men. Can a woman's beauty be changed into a thing of terror? There's your question.


Q: Is the mammoth really there?

A: The mammoth is always there.



More photos here.