Media Man Australia - Stalker situation update
Folks, I was just notified that my stalker (many of you can guess who it is) visited my residence yesterday (Saturday 17th December 2005). I also visited Randwick Police Station again today.
The recent press attention includes the following...
'Publicist attacked by poison pen'
Following a spate of email-related scandals this year, Sydney publicist Greg Tingle is the latest person to fall victim to a malicious email that has been circulated around the globe...
Additional information:
A number of Media Man Australia clients, contacts and associates have been contacted by the stalker (a former very short time client). by both e-mail and telephone! At least one contact is also prepared to put an AVO on the stalker, and approx 99% of the people who received the hoax e-mail from greg.tingle@gmail.com know it was a hoax / criminal related act, and that I was certainly not the author of such rubbish. Furthermore, the fact that people were contacted by not only e-mail, but also telephone, builds the legal argument that my Google g-mail e-mail was used without permission, as the persecutor had to get the phone numbers of my clients and contacts from someone, and not all of their details were / are in the public domain.
I would like to say a big thank you to my friends and clients at this challenging time.
Some of my friends are looking after me in a big, big way, and I am most grateful.
Stay tuned to the developing situation.
Best Regards & Season's Greetings
Greg Tingle
Director
Media Man Australia
e: greg@mediaman.com.au
w: www.mediaman.com.au
a: PO Box 4055 Maroubra South NSW 2035
Member: National Press Club, Media, Entertainment & Arts Alliance, Maroubra Chamber of Commerce...
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Monday, August 08, 2005
Article - I am Osama: court told of terror threats (Sydney Morning Herald)
A reality TV show producer claimed he was Osama bin Laden and warned of follow up terror attacks on Australians, a court heard today.
Charles Gant, 42, of the Gold Coast, was accused of making phone calls to the Australian High Commission in Singapore six days after the Jakarta embassy bombing.
He was also accused of making "disturbing" calls to several media companies, claiming to be from al-Qaeda and threatening to kill Australians, a Gold Coast court was told today.
Egyptian-born Gant was arrested at 8pm (AEST) yesterday in his Labrador apartment by members of the Brisbane-based joint counter terrorism team of the Australian Federal Police.
The self-proclaimed creator and star of a proposed reality television show dating game called Fantasy Island arrived at the Southport Magistrates Court in handcuffs wearing a blue polo shirt and jeans.
He faced six charges under the Commonwealth Crime Act with intentionally using a carriage service to menace or harass.
Crown prosecutor Anthony Gett said while the charges carried a maximum 12 month prison term, in the present climate the allegations were disturbing to the public interest.
Mr Gett said the calls were made from South Australia using seven different sim cards, but Australian Federal Police could link the calls to a unique serial number in Gant's mobile phone.
Media Monitors received the first of four calls made on September 12.
"The God of Islam, I am al-Qaeda," the caller said.
"You Westerners know what you've done and you will pay for your sins.
"The attack in Jakarta is just the first, more will follow in Singapore and Malaysia."
Similar calls were made to the offices of Sky News, the Age newspaper and Fairfax Newspapers.
"Listen to me you are all Australian pigs and you will die," Gant allegedly told a telephone receptionist at Fairfax Newspapers.
"In the name of Allah see what happens in Singapore."
Mr Gett said two calls were made on September 15 to the Australian High Commission in Singapore.
In one call Gant allegedly identified himself as Osama bin Laden and warned that Australian offices in Singapore and Malaysia were targets.
"The bomb that happened in Jakarta is going to happen in Malaysia and Singapore, he said.
"I called to warn you of more attacks on Australian consulates in Malaysia and Singapore."
Gant's lawyer Jason Buckland said the charges were based on circumstantial evidence and would be vigorously defended.
He said Gant had publicity commitments for his television show and his profile made him unlikely to be able to hide.
"I am very confident this defendant is going to be watched like a hawk by the commonwealth law enforcement agencies," he added.
Bail was denied and Gant was remanded in custody to appear during Commonwealth Court sittings in Brisbane on October 8.
Outside court Gant's elderly mother, Marie Dubois, pleaded her son's innocence.
"He's a good boy, he's never done anything wrong, he's not terrorist," she said.
Article - I'm in love with the postcard bandit
True life
Credit: Woman's Day (ACP)| The people behind the stories that make news Check out our compelling new True Life section beginning this week in Woman's Day. It's packed full of fascinating real-life reads about people who've experienced amazing things - some happy, some bizarre, some shocking but all entertaining. |
I'm in love with the postcard bandit
Like many women in long-distance relationships, Tilly Needham travels thousands of kilometres each month to visit the man she loves. But this is no ordinary affair. Tilly's boyfriend is the infamous 'Postcard Bandit' and he'll be in prison until 2018. Here, Tilly talks about her love for a bank robber ...
Tilly Needham proves that love knows no boundaries. The 51-year-old daughter of a decorated policeman and former de facto of a senior Brisbane detective has found her soul mate in the most unlikely place of all - a prison.
Tilly, a mother of six, has lost her heart to one of Australia's most infamous criminals, armed robber Brenden Abbott, better known as the "Postcard Bandit".
For the past six years Tilly, who lives in Darwin, has travelled to Brisbane once a month to visit 43-year-old Abbott, who's spent most of the years since his 1998 recapture in solitary confinement.
Although Tilly won't reveal how or when she first met the fugitive Abbott, she admits to being instantly attracted to him, not by his looks alone, but by his "integrity, morals and standards".
"I'm not talking about the criminal element. I'm talking about him, the human being," says Tilly, who describes herself as loyal and non-judgmental. "Brenden's given me more than any man has given me in my life.
"As well as having a warm personality and good sense of humour, he's understanding, compassionate, respectful, trustful and caring ... he completes me as a woman.
"I know a lot of people will find that hard to accept, but they don't know the real Brenden.
"My late dad, Eric, would not have approved of his criminal side, but man to man, they would have got on like a house on fire," she adds.
Tilly admits the man she calls "hon" has no sugar-coated background. His earliest possible parole date from prison is 2018.
Seen by some as a latter-day Ned Kelly, Abbott's exploits were highlighted in an Australian movie called The Postcard Bandit, starring Tom Long, shown on TV last year.
Abbott, who netted millions of dollars in numerous bank raids, earned his nickname for supposedly sending taunting postcards to police while he was on the run - but Australia's most wanted man for eight years claims he never sent a single card.
Because of their infrequent visits, Tilly - who lived with a policeman for more than 15 years and has three children by him - says she tries to make their time together count.
"I can't understand it when I'm visiting Brenden and I see other inmates and their partners arguing or fighting, instead of embracing each other. The little time they have together should be real quality time - that's what Brenden and I try to achieve.
"That's when I just wish I could pack him up and take him home. I have a little tear when my flight leaves. We still have our numerous phone calls in between, which is far better than nothing at all," says articulate and well-spoken Tilly, who runs a beauty salon.
Story: Warren Gibbs
For more on this story and other amazing true life stories, see this week's issue of Woman's Day:
Miracle mum - 'I had triplets after losing three babies.'
Schapelle Corby's birthday joy - 'Thank you all for thinking of me.'
Got a story? Contact Rachel Morris on (02) 9282 8539 or e-mail ramorris@acp.com.au
Article - Profile - Big Tim Bristow
Time spent with a loveable rogue
By Greg Tingle
Australia’s legendary private investigator, Tim “earthquake” Bristow, was one of Australia’s most colourful, and some may say, notorious underworld figures until his death earlier this year. He was also my friend and some time mentor.
Bristow was synonymous with Australia’s northern beaches community. He seemed to have contacts in almost every street from Palm Beach to Manly and beyond.
Our introduction came about via my late father in the mid-1980s when he and Bristow worked together as debt collectors. I helped out on the odd job as well, but my services were mainly in his trucking and property business.
Time with Bristow was precious, whether we were enjoying a bite at “Lucky and Pep’s Pizza” or having a punt at the Newport TAB, which had been the most successful book-making business of its kind under my grandfather's previous management.
Bristow wore many hats over his lifetime, including those of: private investigator (specialising in divorce cases); “problem solver” for industry disputes; a bouncer; and a competitive sportsman in diving, surfing and rugby.
Betting on the horses or collecting press clippings and videos of broadcasts he featured in were hobbies that continued well into later life.
In his younger years, he was a model and secured major sponsorship from Coca Cola: a real-life “chesty Bond.” He was a man’s man and a ladies’ man.
A spell in the New South Wales Police Service didn’t last long due to his unwillingness to bow to authority. His self-managed style did not bode well in an atmosphere of strict discipline.
In 1976, Bristow was convicted of assault and sentenced to 18 months in prison. A decade later he was sentenced to five years in prison for supplying Indian hemp. He was no angel, and this was touched upon by his brother during his eulogy.
Bristow struck fear into low-lifes in Australia. "I bribed police for 40 years. I found that the higher I went in society the lower the morals became," he was once quoted as saying.
He was both a very public and private personality. His funeral took place at St Thomas’ Church, North Sydney in February; his wake at Chatswood – both of which were public affairs.
He went to great lengths to keep his name out of the papers if he knew they intended to publish something detrimental about him. It is ironic one of his closest friends - the journalist and writer - Kevin Perkins, is now penning his biography: warts and all.
He had a love-hate relationship with the media and their interest in his exploits in the sometimes “seedy” construction industry.
Twice in the weeks before his death, I went to his beautiful Newport home to chat, drink and watch old video tapes of his TV interviews.
I mentioned a book I had read recently: “Not for Publication” by Chris Masters and a chapter of particular interest to me, entitled: “Guilty Buildings.”
I knew Bristow was the chapter's inferred subject but nonetheless I had to ask while I still had the opportunity.
Bristow jovially confessed.
Literally every media and crime figure personality I alluded to, he seemed to have a suitable anecdote for.
His criminal record and "enforcer" reputation led a royal commission to investigate the construction industry underworld in the early 1990s after he told 60 Minutes he had been employed by big building firms as an "industrial relations consultant."
From my time spent working for him, I can confirm he visited many building sites around Sydney, sometimes accompanied by an extra passenger or two in case more persuasion was called for.
Rumours of unco-operative men “falling to their deaths” on building sites abounded at one time and his home tennis court is rumoured to have foundations of more than just rubble.
During the royal commission investigation into productivity in the New South Wales building industry, Bristow said he suggested people on building sites that continued to disrupt work might meet with a “bad accident.”
However, listening to Bristow’s tales, one got the feeling he was adding at least a little colour for entertainment value.
Australian radio broadcasting kingpin, Alan Jones, will remember that in 1974, when he was a coach for King's first XV, Bristow turned up to provide pointers to his lads on the finer aspects of playing rugby.
A member of the team recounts how Bristow advised them on how to dislocate a shoulder; how to re-align the jawbone of an opposing player with the merest nudge, and how a simple twist could snap a finger.
"It was all very subtle but the end result was very messy," the player recalled.
At the end of Bristow's on-air chat with an ashen-faced Alan Jones, no-doubt recoiling in his studio chair some years later, the broadcaster waited for the “enforcer” to be safely ensconced in his Mercedes convertible outside, before answering to his charges by telling his audience: "Just forget everything you've heard this afternoon."
Rumour has it if you got on the bad side of Bristow, you secured a one way ticket to the “see-you-later-club” - located off the heads of Palm Beach – with concrete blocks for boots.
I took the trip with him a few times, and needless to say I lived to tell the tale. The trip was quite a pleasant experience. However, I admit when I was sitting on the bow of his speedboat at a speed approaching 50 knots once, I felt somewhat tentative.
Although he circulated in a somewhat dubious world, Bristow was in no way a dubious or “dodgy” character. He had all the characteristics of a good person – he had morals, was loyal, truthful and giving of heart.
Still, no one is pretending one of Australia’s most misunderstood, legendary and public figures was always an easy man to get on with.
Tim “earthquake” Bristow's life story by Kevin Perkins is due to be released in October.
By Greg Tingle
Australia’s legendary private investigator, Tim “earthquake” Bristow, was one of Australia’s most colourful, and some may say, notorious underworld figures until his death earlier this year. He was also my friend and some time mentor.
Bristow was synonymous with Australia’s northern beaches community. He seemed to have contacts in almost every street from Palm Beach to Manly and beyond.
Our introduction came about via my late father in the mid-1980s when he and Bristow worked together as debt collectors. I helped out on the odd job as well, but my services were mainly in his trucking and property business.
Time with Bristow was precious, whether we were enjoying a bite at “Lucky and Pep’s Pizza” or having a punt at the Newport TAB, which had been the most successful book-making business of its kind under my grandfather's previous management.
Bristow wore many hats over his lifetime, including those of: private investigator (specialising in divorce cases); “problem solver” for industry disputes; a bouncer; and a competitive sportsman in diving, surfing and rugby.
Betting on the horses or collecting press clippings and videos of broadcasts he featured in were hobbies that continued well into later life.
In his younger years, he was a model and secured major sponsorship from Coca Cola: a real-life “chesty Bond.” He was a man’s man and a ladies’ man.
A spell in the New South Wales Police Service didn’t last long due to his unwillingness to bow to authority. His self-managed style did not bode well in an atmosphere of strict discipline.
In 1976, Bristow was convicted of assault and sentenced to 18 months in prison. A decade later he was sentenced to five years in prison for supplying Indian hemp. He was no angel, and this was touched upon by his brother during his eulogy.
Bristow struck fear into low-lifes in Australia. "I bribed police for 40 years. I found that the higher I went in society the lower the morals became," he was once quoted as saying.
He was both a very public and private personality. His funeral took place at St Thomas’ Church, North Sydney in February; his wake at Chatswood – both of which were public affairs.
He went to great lengths to keep his name out of the papers if he knew they intended to publish something detrimental about him. It is ironic one of his closest friends - the journalist and writer - Kevin Perkins, is now penning his biography: warts and all.
He had a love-hate relationship with the media and their interest in his exploits in the sometimes “seedy” construction industry.
Twice in the weeks before his death, I went to his beautiful Newport home to chat, drink and watch old video tapes of his TV interviews.
I mentioned a book I had read recently: “Not for Publication” by Chris Masters and a chapter of particular interest to me, entitled: “Guilty Buildings.”
I knew Bristow was the chapter's inferred subject but nonetheless I had to ask while I still had the opportunity.
Bristow jovially confessed.
Literally every media and crime figure personality I alluded to, he seemed to have a suitable anecdote for.
His criminal record and "enforcer" reputation led a royal commission to investigate the construction industry underworld in the early 1990s after he told 60 Minutes he had been employed by big building firms as an "industrial relations consultant."
From my time spent working for him, I can confirm he visited many building sites around Sydney, sometimes accompanied by an extra passenger or two in case more persuasion was called for.
Rumours of unco-operative men “falling to their deaths” on building sites abounded at one time and his home tennis court is rumoured to have foundations of more than just rubble.
During the royal commission investigation into productivity in the New South Wales building industry, Bristow said he suggested people on building sites that continued to disrupt work might meet with a “bad accident.”
However, listening to Bristow’s tales, one got the feeling he was adding at least a little colour for entertainment value.
Australian radio broadcasting kingpin, Alan Jones, will remember that in 1974, when he was a coach for King's first XV, Bristow turned up to provide pointers to his lads on the finer aspects of playing rugby.
A member of the team recounts how Bristow advised them on how to dislocate a shoulder; how to re-align the jawbone of an opposing player with the merest nudge, and how a simple twist could snap a finger.
"It was all very subtle but the end result was very messy," the player recalled.
At the end of Bristow's on-air chat with an ashen-faced Alan Jones, no-doubt recoiling in his studio chair some years later, the broadcaster waited for the “enforcer” to be safely ensconced in his Mercedes convertible outside, before answering to his charges by telling his audience: "Just forget everything you've heard this afternoon."
Rumour has it if you got on the bad side of Bristow, you secured a one way ticket to the “see-you-later-club” - located off the heads of Palm Beach – with concrete blocks for boots.
I took the trip with him a few times, and needless to say I lived to tell the tale. The trip was quite a pleasant experience. However, I admit when I was sitting on the bow of his speedboat at a speed approaching 50 knots once, I felt somewhat tentative.
Although he circulated in a somewhat dubious world, Bristow was in no way a dubious or “dodgy” character. He had all the characteristics of a good person – he had morals, was loyal, truthful and giving of heart.
Still, no one is pretending one of Australia’s most misunderstood, legendary and public figures was always an easy man to get on with.
Tim “earthquake” Bristow's life story by Kevin Perkins is due to be released in October.
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