check out the tackiest couple ever. The main page will lead you to several gross and romantic galleries, poetry and bio pages. ik. for a moment you think this is so 1991 but no, it’s copyrighted to 2002. barf city. kevin and brenda. our romantic heroes. Yes, people like this actually exist.

I love you with the innocence of tomorrow. May you always know you are loved, Kevin. May you be aware and tap into universal peace at each and every turn. May you feed off the love I feel for you for it is real, pristine, and lucid. Thanks for coming into my life and enhancing the very air that I breathe. You are my angel. You are my light, and you are my love…… Sweetheart— I love you, I always have and I always will….. Eternally yours, Brenda

Know this always, my soulmate, I love you deeply and with all my heart. I’m well aware of how honored I am to be with you, and believe me, you’ll hear about it every day. Thank you, Brenda, for the gifts you give.

May I be the one who always shines with you.

your lover and soulmate, Kevin

more gayness for you. i was trying to um, make out with this guy’s back but then i got all nervous that he might turn around and fall in love with me so i stopped.

Last nite saw Corpusse at Kathedral. was good. entertaining – if you’re all for a three-hundred pound snarling glam dude with shin pads who smashes fluorescent tubes on the stage and has big black hair shaped like a triangle on his head and a skinny sissy fag on keyboard/synth whilst half-retarded/half-fucked squee-gee dirtbags and homeless punks slam dance into you and scream, “FUCK YOU! PLAY HOT WATER PIPE GRRRAWRWRWRAAAAHH!!” Yes. entertaining. very. what a classy evening.

the hottest image around, dooods. wish you was there. fo’real. did i or did i not say this broad was my new best friend? heather girl, scan us some new photos and you are posted. i swears it.

ps – if you are a girl and i call you a bitch, don’t kill yourself. thank you.

hit up the new guestbook/gossip page. you will love it. HOT CITY is even ok for losers.

dude shit totally stole last nite. tropical drinkfest 2002 – won myself a fancy straw hat for having the best named mixed drink, “Your mother’s a slut”

fo’real. it had every such fag fruit innit. there’s a few photos floating around from the evening. hrmm. i managed to get myself in a bicycle accident just ‘cos i wanted to look down at my peddle and see if it had a reflector on it – causing front wheel to align itself in streetcar track, lurching bike forward and sideways, me trying to stop myself – seat in the groin and peddles slamming into shin/calves/knees and i sink my bike and self into a parked car for good measure. fuck. on my shin there’s a nasty, dry bloody gash. then i spilt green tea all over myself and the table at chinese joint. i rule.

how many girls called you today?


how many girls called you the day before?


what’s zero plus zero equal?