We Need To Talk About Virginia

Notorious VRG in August 2019

“Virginia Roberts Giuffre is an American hero,” proclaimed Bradley Edwards, the pioneering Florida plaintiff’s attorney, who has made a career out of representing every “victim” of Jeffrey Epstein he can possibly manifest, by suing every individual or entity he can possibly identify. Edwards’ declaration was made at the now-infamous “Epstein Survivors” press conference in front of the US Capitol on September 3, 2025. And funnily enough, Edwards was addressing his comments to me — in absentia anyway — because by that time I had already been thrown out of the press conference. As you might recall, my ejection-worthy offense was asking Edwards a question about Virginia Roberts Giuffre, who was repeatedly hailed throughout the day as a martyr for truth and justice, because she had given her life to expose the ravages of Epstein’s monumental pedo-trafficking operation.

My question to Edwards was a straightforward one, but the assembled media and politicians clearly found it appalling. Given that Virginia Roberts Giuffre admitted, in 2022, that she had spent nearly a decade falsely accusing a prominent individual of graphic sex crimes, why should she now be seen by the public as remotely credible? And moreover, why should Edwards be seen as remotely credible, in his capacity as a political and legal advocate making demands on behalf of purported “Survivors”? I didn’t actually ask that second question, although I would have liked to. The first question was enough to get me booted by Capitol Police, after Marjorie Taylor Greene and a mob of “Survivors” riled themselves into a vindictive frenzy. But really: Edwards was representing Virginia Roberts Giuffre (henceforth referred to as the notorious “VRG”) at the time she made these sensational claims against Alan Dershowitz, and representing her when she recanted them. So what credibility do either of them have?

I almost want to bracket the whole Dershowitz ordeal, because I’m well aware that people are chronically incapable of separating out whatever feelings they might have about Dershowitz on wholly unrelated issues. So please, let it be known that the chronic fabrications and serial unreliability of Virginia Roberts Giuffre can be more than amply established even if one were to simply forget the whole Dershowitz thing ever happened. Even though it would be an absurd thing to arbitrarily forget: VRG described in the most lurid detail, under multiple depositions, the nature of the sex acts to which Dershowitz had allegedly subjected her. This included elucidating his ejaculation habits, his preferred methods of receiving pleasure, the physical characteristics of his naked body, his expressions of arousal, and so forth. Then, eventually, she had to admit she made the whole thing up. Or to put it technically, she “may have made a mistake” in identifying him as the culprit of these crimes, which is how the statement her lawyers ultimately drafted for her was worded. So yes, it would be extremely strange to just forget about all this, especially if we’re supposed to be evaluating the credibility of someone whose scandalous accusations continue to stoke political upheaval in multiple countries, including at this very moment, even after (what we’re told) was her untimely death in April 2025. And with the release this week of her new “memoir,” yet another PR campaign has been orchestrated to canonize the tales of VRG.

I have not yet read the book — poignantly titled Nobody’s Girl — but I did just manage to snag an early copy, so I will be dutifully performing the public service of reading it so you don’t have to. However, amidst the torrent of brainless credulity that will otherwise be dominating the media’s coverage, there are a couple things worth highlighting.

First, VRG’s lawyers had to admit, over the course of litigation she initiated — or rather, Bradley Edwards and David Boies initiated on her behalf — that a previous iteration of the memoir she purportedly wrote, in 2011 and 2012, was “fictionalized.” This was admitted in 2019, after she’d spent years trying to hawk the manuscript to agents and publishers, with the goal of getting a lucrative book deal, or even a movie deal. That manuscript never ended up getting published, but it did eventually get produced in discovery. And by 2019, her lawyers had to concede it was a work of fiction. Because in the manuscript, called The Billionaire’s Playboy Club, she made all manner of wild claims about prominent individuals, and virtually none of them could be remotely corroborated: sex crime accusations against George Mitchell, the former Majority Leader of the US Senate, against a Harvard professor named Stephen (last name redacted), against the granddaughter of French marine explorer Jacques Cousteau, against an unnamed Nobel Prize-winning scientist — among others. No evidence has ever been presented that any of these people committed the crimes she accused them of committing. (Under deposition, she explicitly retracted the claim about the Harvard professor.) She further claims in the manuscript that she saw Bill Clinton and Al Gore at Epstein’s compound in the US Virgin Islands. Not a shred of corroborating evidence has ever been produced that either one of them ever went to the island, despite the detailed descriptions she provides of their purported (imaginary) visits. She introduces new claims about Prince Andrew, alleging she had sexually liaised with him at Epstein’s ranch in New Mexico. But she later dropped this claim when it was contradicted by other evidence; her 2021 lawsuit against Prince Andrew, filed by David Boies, contained no mention of the supposed New Mexico encounter. Hence, the lawyers cut their losses and simply declared that her original “memoir” manuscript must be disregarded as a “fictionalized account” of her purported experiences, which she wrote as a therapeutic exercise to “unearth” her “trauma” — and as an “act of empowerment.”

So… what about this latest memoir then? The one that’s being eagerly promoted all throughout the media right now? With a bunch of brand new accusations, of course, which she’s decided to debut for the first time? Did the process by which this 2025 memoir came about bear any similarity to the 2011-2012 process, in which emails showed VRG conniving with a Daily Mail tabloid journalist, Sharon Churcher, to throw as many names of prominent people into the manuscript as she could muster, in order to entice potential buyers? It’s been reported that VRG received a “seven figure” advance for this newest book. Might that have provided a bit of an incentive to do what she had already done before: to embellish, fabricate, and “fictionalize”?

There’s plenty more to say on this, but for I now want to unveil a curious new example of VRG’s colossal unreliability. On March 30, she posted an image of herself on Instagram, in which she appears to have sustained grievous injuries from what she claimed was a traumatic bus crash. As a result of the crash, she had supposedly gone into renal failure, and doctors had given her four days to live:

After much haggling, I’ve finally managed to obtain some Australian police records documenting the aftermath of this purported bus crash:

Does that look like the wreckage of an extremely violent, life-threatening bus crash to you…?

Because as the photos would seem to verify, the police report describes the incident as a “minor traffic crash,” for which “police attendance” was “not required”:

“No visible damage,” the report concludes:

What’s with all the redactions, you ask? Good question. Someone should ask the relevant Australian authorities. Because they seem to be a bit stingy with their record-disclosure policies. In the non-redacted portions of the report, there is no notation of VRG’s presence.

The records may still shed light on why, when he was shown the image of VRG’s purported injuries, the bus driver “just laughed.”

“There is no way you could get that injury if you were in that car,” said the driver, who had no obvious incentive to lie. He had been traveling with a bus full of children, so would have presumably been sensitive to any incident which might have threatened their safety.

The accident happened, he explained, when a low-speed car traveling in front of him made an abrupt right-hand turn as he was trying to pass it. He beeped, but couldn’t avoid clipping the car’s tail-light. Both parties pulled over, and he went to check on the 71-year-old woman in the driver’s seat. She appeared uninjured. Bizarrely, he had no recollection of seeing VRG in the car.

While the minor damage sustained would not have necessarily warranted the involvement of police, he decided to call them anyway, because he found the whole incident “a little bit suss.” Having exchanged contact information with the 71-year-old woman, he called her the next day as a courtesy to advise that he had reported the matter to police. It was then that the woman informed him there had been a second passenger in the car, and she had suffered a black eye. The driver found the whole episode bewildering: “It’s just all blown out of proportion and I know what happened. I didn’t even see her [VRG] in the car.”

Per the Daily Mail:

Mr Munns said the impact was so minor that there was no damage at all to his Roo Bar – the bar designed to protect his bus from damage caused by hitting kangaroos on the road.

He added: “It just wasn’t normal - weird driving. We swapped phone numbers and I had a look around and I asked if everything was ok and the next morning she rang.”

“I thought it was all very strange and I told her I had already done a police report, and that’s all I have to say. And that’s when she told me there was another person in the car who had a black eye.”

Mr Munns said a police officer who had photographed his bus was ‘laughing’ as he did so.

A few weeks later, April 25, 2025, VRG was reported to have died by suicide.

So… what’s the deal with this? I really don’t know; you tell me. Because from the looks of it, VRG decided to fabricate yet another claim of egregious wrongdoing against yet another man — this time a random bus driver in Perth, Australia, who was hauling a bunch of school children.

It just goes to show that absolutely nothing this woman ever said or did can be taken at face value, in the absence of independent corroborating evidence. Despite the protestations of huckster lawyers, credulous journalists, and “victim”-crusading politicians — who now want to venerate this latest “memoir” of hers like it’s a presumptively credible or factual account of anything.

Is the ghost-writer of VRG’s new book, Amy Wallace, going to be asked any pertinent fact-finding questions? Or is she just going to be reverentially “believed,” as a proxy for VRG, with nods of solemn affirmation, as she carries forth her profitable PR tour?

I have more records coming from Australia, and more VRG material in general. (Last month, I spoke to her American siblings in the midst of a probate dispute over the lavish fortune we’re told she left behind.) I’ll also be reviewing the actual book — because who else is going to read it with anything less than total dimwit gullibility, if I don’t? So, consider subscribing if this is of any interest to you.

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