ags, anglican, anglican grammar school, ann gummow, anthony micallef, anthony morris, archbishop, archdiocese, aspinall, boarding, borbidge, boys, bretts boys, brisbane, brothel, bubbles, cathedral, CEBS, chief, child, child sex, church, church of england, churchie, committee, court, cover, cover up, dam, dan o'connor, daphnis, de jersey, denis wagner, dennis wagner, district, doggy, dowsett, east brisbane, finance, fitzgerald, flood, fred, frederick, gerry murphy, gilbert case, governer, government, governor, grammar, grantham, greg masters, harry, harry roberts, hoskins, howard stack, ian walker, inquiry, john, john wagner, justice, knowmore, Labor, leanne scoines, liberal, lnp, mansfield, master, max howell, molest, mp, murphy schmidt, paul de jersey, philip aspinall, phillip aspinall, prue gregory, qld, queensland, rape, roy, royal commission, school, scout, scouts, sex, st johns, st pauls, steve herd, supreme, Tagsabuse, tony morris, tricia schmidt, up, wagner, warren strange, whitehouse, wippel, wippell, wipple
First published at http://www.theprinthouse.org/articles/2015/10/08/greg-masters-my-teacher-my-mentor-and-my-friend/ in October 2015
You know what guys? I couldn’t give a fuck about Brisbane Grammar. It’s just bricks and mortar, and a deserted former aboriginal camp site at night. Have you ever walked around the place at night? It’s simply a ghost town, and you can hear the ghosts of indigenous souls wailing. Read your history – you might learn something.
Read your law books too – you can threaten legal action run by your fancy mates as much as you like, but do you know what? I couldn’t care a toss. They are fucking hopeless anyway, despite the old school tie SC’s against their name. Know that court case for sacking a bloke because he was suffering from the effects of PTSD caused by your newly deified God Greggles?
I won it you imbeciles. The case you keep quoting was an interlocutory injunction application run strictly for strategic purposes. And to disclose the existence of a slush fund you morons. You know, slush funds, the focus of the trade union royal commission run by your mates. Are you people brain dead?
Quick law lesson – schools can’t sue for defamation. Dead paedophiles can’t either. That’s why I challenged your God to sue me if he thought I was lying while he was alive. I put casa del Geebung on the line, and dared him to double down to show the world what I was saying wasn’t true.
Sadly, he knew it was. He was there you see, and so was I. That’s why God’s now lying cold on a slab and his deluded believers are showing their true colours and ranting red hot anonymously right here.
You’ve called me every name under the sun big boys, and bagged the crap out of my family too.
Sorting it out is simple. Just put your name and an address for service next to your posts. Come on guys, I implore you. Surely given that you are so assuredly telling the truth it won’t be a problem. I’ll even put the house and some cash up as bond for the defamation actions.
Don’t cat it boys, do the old school tie proud. You’ve put up, don’t now shut up. Surely if you are so confident that you are telling the truth you won’t be afraid to hide behind an invisible cloak. I don’t – why should you?
If you squib this then you may as well waive a white flag too, And don’t hide behind some fear of Gorgeous George as your excuse. Despite all the salacious press he’s only ever been convicted of one offence, and that simply being upset at a sheila who stole his heart and broke it into pieces. He’s keen to sue you for defamation too, but I’ll put the brakes on him, don’t you worry about that.
But just so you don’t have an excuse to hide your pea-hearted lies behind, how about you all use the Wellington St, Clayfield address of young Nick, who just graduated – 6 years ago, but don’t let the facts get in the way of a fallaious story – as your address for service. Or use your lawyer’s office, I don’t care, just allow me the opportunity to test your claims, because I’m right and you’re wrong and I’ve got the guts to use the courts to prove it.
Nah, no chance I reckon. All piss and wind.
The sort of pricks who’d walk right past the Good Samaritan, that’s what you fella’s are.
Cowards, one and all.
Last chance – put up or shut up. Righteous men aren’t afraid of the truth being told. Stop hiding behind your craven shields. I’m just a boy from Geebung who’s been touched by God. You blokes are the top end of town. Have a crack you craven clowns.
A name and an address for service. That’s all I ask.
Who’s going to step up and stand up for what you claim is the truth.
Are you all going to cower like Peter, and deny your God Greggles as the cock crows thrice (his crowed a lot more times than that, don’t you worry about that).
Perhaps you are simply Pontious Pilates, washing the hands of the man claimed to be beloved by the BGS masses.
Or maybe you are really Judas. Abandoning the man that you proclaim to love, in his desperate hour of need.
Greggles didn’t do it. You are all so sure. Prove it. Clear his name. C’mon cowards, name and address for service. so that your claims can be tested in a court of law.
That’s all I ask.
Stand up and be counted.
“Hey Gorgeous – whats zero plus zero minus a gutless wonder add up to again? Oh, nothing? You sure? But these blokes went to Grammar! What’s that? Greg Masters taught there too? Got ya buddy. Run mate, as fast as you can. They all want to fuck you but they’re all wearing masks. Liars and cowards always do’.