Crocodile Hunter

I suppose by now, half of the internet blogs contain news about the Crocodile Hunter, the oh-crap-its-that-guy-again-so-let-me-switch-channels environmentalist who likes to mess with animals who, by God's intention are not to be fucked with using bare hands and short khakis.

And I'm sure 90% of them contain trite, hackneyed, "Crickey, I'm dead!" jokes.

This entry isn't one of them.

I actually liked watching his shows.

I enjoy reality TV for the sole possibility of something screwing up and see it without having to be troubled by actually being involved in the problem. Yes, I watch to see people screw up. And what better show to watch for this than man-goes-retardedly-close-to-danger expedition shows by Steve Irwin and his other crazy colleagues?

Thanks to a friend, I remember one particular episode where he dared to photograph all of the most venomous snakes in Australia with is camera. He'd trashtalk the snakes while taking photographs as though he's doing the shoot for Victoria's Secret models. "That's right, mate! Show me snake! Bare those fangs you wild slithering you! Hiss like there's no tomorrow!"

After a while a smart enough snake was able to outsmart him. The snake pretended that Croc Hunter wasnt there and started looking away. This pissed off CH so badly he actually went closer. And that's all the snake needed. The fucker landed a good bite at the hand CH tried to use to attract the snake, causing Steve Irwin to panic like a diabetic out of insulin.

Well, he lived to tell about it, but it was shit funny when you see it on TV. Like MTV's Jackass, except replace Jackass with "Steve Irwin".

Yeah, he's ridiculous. And the costume doesnt help either. But to be able to fuckwrestle a crocodile to submission, play with the deadliest of snakes and get bitten and actually live to tell about it, eat a live shark (unconfirmed), and guest in Jay Leno's tonight show, this guy has to have balls the size of Tortuga.

He's earned the right to be ridiculous by doing kickass things that not even a drunken me would try in my dreams. (For example, I will not under any circumstances touch a kangaroo's genetalia just to check if she's a she, even if there's a mammary pouch obviously indicating the gender. EVER)

Well he died, sadly. But it's not like he didn't have it coming. He was bitten so many times by snakes already (twice on camera) and escaped poison-related death so many times, to be able to live to age 44 and still be able to have kids is well above my normal definition of "lucky bastard". Luck isn't stupidity. It just has to run out.

Long live the Crocodile Hunter. He will be most certainly missed.