After taking the last few days to add up the extent of my finances, followed by an extended period of filthy depression, I have come to the conclusion that I can never afford to buy a dinosaur. It goes against that time I declared I declared I would own a dinosaur in between bites of Frankenberry or gulps of coffeemilk. It’s strange, because it’s the first time I’ve failed in a childhood dream, as I am indeed an astronaut/drummer/author/clown/fireman who only drops a Giant Freakin’ Robot article in on my off-minutes. In all seriousness, a wealthy person can buy a dinosaur in a first-of-its-kind event at Summers Place Auctions in Billingshurst, West Sussex in England.
Expected to take in an estimated £400,000-600,000 ($650,000-$975,000) is a complete skeleton of the Diplodocus longus, one of Earth’s largest creatures around 150 million years ago. The long-necked beast who doesn’t answer to the name of Misty but is called that anyway, is 55 feet long and 19 feet tall, but I imagine that head reaches all the way up into space and eats stars for breakfast. It’s thought to be the largest auction of its kind, and stands tall against other museums’ Diplodocus specimens, including the London Natural History Museum’s plaster copy.
The fossils were found in 2009 by two young boys named Benjamin and Jacob, the sons of famed dinosaur digger-upper Raimund Albersdoerfer, in the privately owned quarry in Wyoming. The fossils have since been curated by author and all-around expert on the matter Errol Fuller.
“You are talking about a very rare item indeed,” he said. “Even if you were lucky enough to find one in the first place, the digging out and the preparation then involved is an enormous undertaking…If I was a rich man, I could actually have a fossil dinosaur…that would impress my friends much more than a Ferrari and it would cost me just a fraction of £18 million.”
Not to mention someone might have to completely readjust their housing quarters in order to fit this thing in there. I mean, it’s expected to go to a museum or a private collection, but I like to think there’s one guy out there who has been busting his ass for the last few decades, saving up to buy a dinosaur, and he buys it. Before obviously strapping a jet pack to it and flying it into space.
Have your own Jurassic World parties where you play the shamed host who has taken his expensive bones down and glued them together in some drunken fit of cosplay-inspired madness. Be that guy if you can afford it. Not that I’m saying a gal can’t afford it; I’m just assuming women are too smart to do that.