I'm probably over reacting

I don’t wish to sound too alarmist but did any of you read that report in this weeks papers about the cockey (the human kind) who was caught up a tree in some swamp surrounded by crocodiles writing a farewell message to his son on the lid of his tobacco tin. Every night two of them would stalk him and all he could see was two sets of red eyes while the big bull roared in the distance. During the day helicopters flew by close enough to pass a football to but the p….t (what can this word be) didn’t see him till the fifth day.
Now I’m probably being paranoid but after reading this and coming home to read, in the latest blog entries: that my own family were venturing into similar territory, I felt a chill through my spine. I have to admit that the story sounds a lot more like a trailer from Crocodile Dundee III or an outtake from Wolf Creek, Razorback or some other outback horror flick, and I did read it in the Telegraph so who knows what this desperate drug addled journo downloaded from the net to meet his deadline. Isn’t that just the point, those vast unoccupied expanses where you have to wait a week for tires from Adeliade, home of the Snowtown Murders, and long weekends go for three days are just riddled with feral pigs, crocks and Murdocks. Just look at the photo of Steven next to his very authentic rig. Where’s his face, just a hat and shadow, the very grist of gothic horror. Did he show you his guns? No, even worse, he’s hiding them. I warn you Sue, you cant trust any of them. Rob and Jo from SA, If that means South Australia then I say Stay Away.
R