Attenborough's Cash-Cow

So it's Sunday and I've spent my whole day sat at a computer using this as a poor excuse for "work". The glasses are on due to eye strain, so I'll use this as my get-out-of-jail-free card. I've actually AFFECTED MY HEALTH doing this essay, Father! Have pity on me!



Casually works.

The rest of the house is actually really cold, apart from the kitchen/conservatory thing which is warm and lovely. It's only the toes that are a bit cold, but that's my own fault for not wearing socks. The television is on in the corner as my grandparents flitter around doing things. As on any Easter Sunday, a David Attenborough nature programme is on. This doesn't surprise me, but I do think about them every time I watch one. What if this is his last? What if there were no more and he cops it after, OR EVEN DURING, recording. Do they continue? Or do these wonderful works of art just stop? The hunt for new and "cool shizz" under the ocean, in the rainforests and in the deserts does not develop anymore, because the only man worthy enough of wearing the leafy crown has kicked the bucket. It's like replacing Jesus: "Ok so you've applied for the job of...Messiah?"

Look, he lets them kiss him!

I have noticed that Scottish guy is starting to do a few more. I know if he took over, I just wouldn't watch them anymore. I'm not a Scotophobe. I just know whatever he says will translate into my head as nothing more than "I'M CASHING IN ON THE SUCCESS OF AN OLD MAN. HERE, HOLD ONTO THE BACKFAT OF THIS CASH-COW I'M RIDING ON! IT GOES STRAIGHT TO THE BANK!"

Sure he can laugh, but can he do his own stunts? The answer is of course, no. And I've never seen the new guy laugh either.