There once was a man from Nantucket Who thought he would clean out his bucket But the bleach could not budge The slick black sludge So he said to himself, "To hell with it."
(Well, it's complicated. You have to understand that, the dinosaurs, they may have been crack addicts; not that this should sway you entirely, but, you know, consider it.
Many will tell you that the dinosaurs died because they weren't smart enough. Not true. They died, because they knew. They could have gone underground to their apocalypse-proof secret lairs buried dozens of miles underground and continued their way of life until they felt it was safe to resurface. But they, being creatures on a level of sentience and self-importance rivaling that of human beings, came somehow to the conclusion that their legacy would be longer-lasting if they allowed the mammals of the Earth to use these lairs instead. Some time happened, events came to pass, and here we are.
I submit, as exhibit A, the picture drawn by Brad Weiner - the only person to have somehow accessed the memory of this event - readily viewable on the Internet.)