SYDNEY, Australia (CNN) -- Steve Irwin, the TV presenter known as the "Crocodile Hunter," has died after being stung by a stingray in a marine accident off Australia's north coast.

Media reports say Irwin was diving in waters off Port Douglas, north of Cairns, when the incident happened on Monday morning.

Irwin, 44 was killed by a stingray barb that went through his chest, according to Cairns police sources. Irwin was filming an underwater documentary at the time.

Ok, we've all heard the story. Here's my spiel: I'm on my way to work listening to the radio news. The moron anchor goes into this report "In a tragic irony, Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter, is killed doing what he loved most: studying wildlife..."

Now before I begin, let me give this disclaimor: the loss of life is never funny (ok, sometimes it's funny when a particularly egregious asshole dies spectacularly). And I don't want to get mileage out of death (unless, of course, there's something funny about the death). Here's what bothers me...

1) Asshole! There's nothing ironic here! The term irony always refers to a reversal of expectations--where what happens is the opposite of expectation. This moron, Irwin, has been shoving his head in crocodile's mouths for years. He plays with poisonous snakes, pets scorpions, dangles his infant over alligator pits. OF COURSE HE WAS KILLED PLAYING WITH A DANGEROUS CREATURE! (He was 3 feet from the stingray when its tail flicked and a poisonous barb punctured his heart.)

2) He did not "study" wildlife. He was a circus act, a clown, the fool forcing himself into the faces of fierce creatures.

3) This is not tragic. Today, there are a slew of animals saying, "fuck, finally a moment of peace!"


In other news, I'm resting today. This Sunday is my triathlon, and I'm beat up from a weekend of labor. I'm not sure, but I don't think floor refinishing is on the taper program. Tomorrow, I plan on running with Al K.


For my friend, Howardd, I'd like to close today's blog with the words of the great Mike Tyson, sage, poet, racconteur: "Look at, you scared now, you punk. Bitch. Scared like a little white ho. Scared of the real man. I'll fuck you until you love me."