James Weir is a journalist at News.com.au. He covers a diverse range of topics including arts and entertainment, theater, and the broadcasting industry, with a particular focus on legal affairs and civil lawsuits. James has been featured in prominent publications such as The Advertiser Foundation, The Daily Telegraph, and The Australian Financial Review.
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Australia (National)
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James Weir's coverage primarily focuses on local events and evolving stories related to entertainment, party culture, and celebrity gossip in Australia. As such, he is likely interested in pitches that provide exclusive insights or interviews with key figures involved in the mentioned topics. Given his emphasis on event coverage and evolving stories, consider offering unique angles or access to behind-the-scenes information for upcoming events or ongoing developments within the Australian entertainment scene.
Additionally, due to his focus on Schoolies and Melbourne Cup-related content, providing relevant insights into these annual events could be a promising approach when reaching out to James.
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Everyone loves a reboot, and it seems this year’s blockbuster is Honey, I Shrunk The Clicks, starring Karl Stefanovic.
While the Logies will always be a Karl Stefanovic roast disguised as a celebration of Australian talent, this year’s ceremony wound up morphing into something slightly different: a really long audition, conducted in formal wear, for the most contested job in breakfast TV.
A reality contestant who became a household name as a Married At First Sight villain has responded to a video circulating online of her appearing to smoke from a glass pipe.
When decades-long radio rivals Alan Jones and Ray Hadley came face-to-face in courtroom 3.1 of Sydney’s Downing Centre, some advice was issued that may not have been needed.
The dashing sports star unbuttoned his navy pinstripe blazer, sat in the witness box and poured water from a plastic jug into a paper cup as the famous octogenarian talkback titan he was accusing of two unwanted kisses hunched just metres away in the opposite corner of the room, occasionally yawning and wiping the sides of his wrinkled, pouting lips.
The kingdom ruled by Alan Jones was old-fashioned and frozen in time – a seemingly baroque universe where communication occurred via fax machine, guests were dutifully examined about their comfort level with oysters and only the butler was authorised to iron the boss’ shirts made of expensive fabrics that were “the finest of the finest”.
The kingdom ruled by Alan Jones was old-fashioned and frozen in time – a seemingly baroque universe where communication occurred via fax machine, guests were dutifully examined about their comfort level with oysters and only the butler was authorised to iron the boss’ shirts made of expensive fabrics that were “the finest of the finest”.
By: James Weir
Alan Jones was a “magician” who could wave his “magic wand” to “grant wishes” for the battlers who needed help on “Struggle St” – a phrase, if not a pseudo community, the millionaire shock jock claimed to have ‘pioneered’ in emails shared with a schoolboy the prosecution alleges he kissed years later and fondled one night at his country estate after shelling out about $100,000.
