It's overrun by hipsters already, so I guess it's okay to let the cat out of the bag: The Twilight Exit is the place to be on Sunday nights if you want to catch local and visiting celebs belting out their favorite karaoke tunes. On Sunday, July 23, the joint was lousy with rock stars, including Tracy Bonham and her band and crew, and British rockers Catherine Wheel, who were celebrating the dual birthdays of singer Rob Dickinson and hot new bass player Ben Ellis. Bonham and Fastbacks singer Kim Warnick should seriously consider forming a band together, as their duet of "Daydream Believer" was a smash hit. Warnick also killed with Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself for Lovin' You," which she sang as a personal favor to yours truly, because it's my favorite Jett song. Thanks, Kim! Dickinson and Bonham also performed a very sweet duet, and Catherine Wheel drummer Neil sang something pretty, but fuck if I can remember what it was. The next night at the Showbox during Tracy Bonham's set, I spied the Twilight Exit's karaoke king, Steve Knight, headbanging front and center. To his left was Catherine Wheel's number-one fan/ho-bag, one would guess. The extremely well-endowed, slightly goth wannabe-groupie stood in front of Dickinson all through the set, throwing her head back and singing dramatically while her foot-long cleavage heaved, and, apparently, sweated, because at one point she jammed a small stuffed teddy bear between her tits and left it there till it was sodden. She then hung out waiting for the band to quit lollygagging backstage, and attempted to give the bear, soaked with the sweat of her love and devotion, to Dickinson. He declined the bear, but very sweetly accepted a container of cookies that a cute fan baked herself, and then took her address down so he could return her Tupperware once the band finished the thoughtful snack.

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Can I say once again that those who rock, do, and those who can't, just write about it? That's exactly the lesson I learned the hard way Friday night when Kim Warnick (there goes that name again) tried to help me realize yet another of my dumb dreams. For months now, and especially since I learned that William Reid recently moved to West Seattle, I've been threatening to form a Jesus and Mary Chain cover band, featuring Warnick and Adam Green on guitar and drums, respectively. Friday night, after a few cocktails, Kim and Rebecca from Billy Shook were kind enough to attempt to teach me how to play bass (naturally) in order to get me one step closer to my goal. Well, after a weekend in the hospital and several Vicodin and whatever the hell those muscle-relaxers are called (along with wacked-out dreams where I was living with Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins and their kids and a couple of chimps dressed in waiter suits, and dating a guy who owned the cutest penguin, which sat on a barstool and cried ice-cube tears, à la Tennessee Tuxedo), I am now trying to write this column with a fucked-up back, thanks to the heaviest bass ever, a hazy mind, and a shamed ego. Writers don't rock, damn it! Anyway, I've enlisted a few gossip-mongers to help me finish this week's It's My Party.

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Kerri Harrop said that the aforementioned Twilight Exit was overrun with hippies, ponytailed sensitive guys, and all-around sandal-wearers this past Sunday, singing every bad ballad one could think of. Chris from the Briefs was giving it his all, as was John from the Recursers and celeb photographer Curt Doughty, among others. Yet some sensitive ponytail guy sang, FOR REAL, that retarded "Hmmmm, Hmmmm, Hmmmm, Hmmmm" song by the Crash Test Dummies, for chrissakes! This must not occur again. It is up to you to stop it. I'd do it myself if I weren't as lame as a doorman at the Cha-Cha, walking with the aid of a stick and throwing painkillers down my throat every six hours. And once and for all: NO, you can't have any.