ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

Nobody wrote back to his 2 pm message asking if anybody was about for beers this afternoon, so Chris Masters took matters into his own hands.

The 29-year-old bachelor clocked out from his Old City district bespoke, boutique public relations agency at around 3 pm and walked straight into SportsQuest Bar & Grill on the ground floor of his building.

“Where are all you whipped cunts?” he wrote to ‘The Boy’s Noise’, one of two WhatsApp group chats he has with friends.

“I’m holding down the fort at the ‘Quest and none of you cowards are here! Where are you? Name and shame! Name and shame!”

But as time marches on, only an odd ‘kek’ and ‘lol’ were sent back by his friends.

He returns fire by recording himself making ‘whoopish’ whip noises and sending them back in response.

The Advocate reached out to a number of Boy’s Noise members for comment and received a smorgasbord of responses.

David Kalashnikov, who tried to make it clear on Wednesday that he’d be in Byron for a wedding this weekend, told our reporters that this is often the case with Masters.

“He likes to give it to me for spending the odd Friday night at home with the missus,” he said.

“But mate, we’re getting older now. My back hurts and I’m tired. Maybe I just want a nice steak, half a bottle of Malbec and an unenthusiastic handjob in the shower before bed tonight. Tomorrow is a whole new day,”

“Me and the boys might even feel like having a nice lunch before somebody gets the itch and caves into their desire to get themselves and the rest of us a few nice vials of B-grade Beirut MD?”

“That might just happen, you never know. But as for tonight? I’m doing nothing.”

More to come.


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