Crikey! (Redux)

Did anyone else witness the spectacle that was the Crocodile Hunter funeral? Man, after the first few minutes I thought that somebody may have inadvertently slipped some LSD into my Grape Nuts. That was some trippy shit!

Whether it was the stuffed crocodiles, the video montages of Steve Irwin whooping it up petting sea turtles; packing a bush truck with surf boards and sleeping bags; some Australian folk singer performing a rousing rendition of ‘True Blue’; or zoo employees spelling out “Crikey!” on the ground with yellow flowers – I haven’t seen anything that surreal since the 2002 Opening Ceremonies for the Winter Olympics.

The thing that really kills me is that this story received more attention on the news than the discovery of three mysterious objects floating in outer space. Figure that out! Aboriginal Bushmen performing an interpretive dance on the ‘Flight of the Kookabura’ receive a 15-minute dedication on Breakfast Television, and yet, three unknown objects orbiting around the earth’s atmosphere – 15 seconds.

WTF?

Now I’ve seen the opening to Independence Day. So to me, three UFO’s and the possible annihilation of our planet by an unknown alien species deserves a little more focus than just cutting to commercial.

Call me crazy.

Crikey!

Well, the world got a little bit brighter for me this Labor Day, albeit not so bright for one, Mr. Steve Irwin – the fabled Crocodile Hunter. As much as the death of any noted celebrity is usually music to my ears, this one particularly rings with the sweet sound of cash registers…

KA-CHING!

This untimely demise of Mr. Irwin happens to bring me one step closer to winning my Dead Pool. Now, if only something tragic would happen to Courtney Love, Tom Cruise, or Anderson Cooper I’d hit real pay dirt and do naked cartwheels down Broadway Ave.

Reports are now beginning to circulate that the infamous Crocodile Hunter was killed instantly when his chest was pierced by a Stingray’s lethal barb while snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef while filming a children’s show called ‘The Ocean’s Deadliest’. Now there’s a way to go! Irwin was swimming along side the Stingray, when the ray got spooked and lashed out with it’s poisonous tail and catching him directly in the heart

YES!

Hey, you can frown on me all you want; but with this guy, it was only a matter of time. The dude has survived more attacks than Naomi Campbell's personal assistant. Whether it be impaled on a charging rhino's horn, swallowed by a Great White Shark, or from just French kissing a Tiger Snake - you just know that Fate had a hard on for this guy!

I realize that this will be met the world over with great shock and sadness, but honestly, are any of us really surprised? The man wasn’t exactly the brightest drongo at the billadong, if you know what I mean. He poked King Cobras with tree twigs, for fuck sakes – how long was this guy expected to live exactly?

I think this is more a case of Mother Nature finally getting a leg over on the ‘ol Crocodile Hunter after all these years of him poking, prodding, and wrestling with all her beasties before a television camera. The Crocodile Hunter has cinematically bitch-slapped more animals for Discovery than Charlie Sheen has done supermodels. Steven Irwin would spit in the face of Tie Domi’s mother and then be all excited when Tie tried to rip his head off.

Mourners have already started to flood the gates of the Queensland Australia Zoo to pay their respects. “The world has lost a great wildlife icon, a passionate conservationist and one of the proudest dads on the planet," John Stainton, Irwin's friend and producer who was on board at the time of the accident said in the statement.

"He died doing what he loves best and left this world in a happy and peaceful state of mind" he said. "Crocs Rule!"

Umm, okay there, Jacko. You gotta love those crazy Aussies.

I, however, am going to grieve in my own way. I will cease from "adding more 'roo to my do" today and rent the entire Crocodile Dundee movie series (except for the third one because it sucked so bad). Furthermore, I will wear nothing but the same tan khakis over the next week in honor of this crazy fucker.

Afterwards, I'll cry myself to sleep in my big bed of pool winnings.