The 24/7 Haus is a staple of Seattle partying. It's not just a residence; it's a legacy. When one group rambles away, the torch is passed to new friends who carry on the spirit of beer-soaked house shows. None of the same people live here as when we crashed the final Trashies show last year, but this event is being held in honor of ex-Trashie Max who is visiting from his new home of San Francisco.

The first band of the night, Conifers, sound like Pavement with Down syndrome. Bass and drums keep rhythm for a singer yelping and muttering lines like, "These are the booger beard years," with occasional spastic guitar outbursts. At the end of one of their songs the band members look at each other and proclaim, "That was kinda dumb." Max sings and plays guitar in the kitchen, wearing a dinosaur mask and some sort of muumuu. For some reason, his head is wrapped in cellophane.

After new house band Sorry finishes off the night's performances, some randoms pick up the instruments and start jamming out. Some drunkard gets on the microphone and screams over and over, "Who run Whole Foods barter town?" A crowd of people comes downstairs, thinking another band is playing. They are sorely mistaken. Before long, the power is cut to the basement and everyone is kicked out of the house. In a party-killing act of vandalism someone has spray-painted the mosque next door, and the kids at 24/7 do not want to get on Allah's bad side.

Want to make The Stranger feel really trashy? Invite us to your apartment for knife hits. E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher