Christ on his throne! In an effort to prove that a man's heart can be stony in more ways than one, the sick and sparkling brain of Ian Bell is gifting us all with a true treasure: A live, Brown Derbied–up version of Pet Sematary! I could just piddle me trousers with wicked glee about it—and so could you, if you're wise. Zombie cats! Murderous, road-smushed toddlers! Dusty Warren! Basil Harris! If you miss it, I'm not even dragging you up to the old Micmac burial ground, ladypants. Dead is bettah. (Also, let God get his own cat!) Re-bar, 8 pm, $16, 21+.



We need to discuss things. Not all of these alleged "things" are "pleasant" or whatnot, but they simply must be addressed (there's no help for it!), so let's just rip off the Band-Aid. First item: The Chapel is closed for good, so don't go there anymore, or you'll look foolish. (Drink prices across Seattle have dropped 200 percent, thank goodness—but, oooh! The memories!) Also, and worser by a lot: The terrible lie that Stella Rose Saint Clair—fashionista and blogstress, "female drag queen," and gay nightlife superluminary—is saying a fond "fuck you" to Seattle forever and absconding to the fashion-fertile soils of NYC. I'm riddled with regret to tell you that this is a terrible FACT. She's leaving, and soon. (Seattle will forever be so much less-prettier, but the garage sale should be earth-shaking...) As you know, Stella exploded into the collective gay conscious as the luminous beauty DJing/drink-shilling/floating about the shadows of DJ Nark events like Fringe, Choice Wednesday, and the one we're going to tonight, Dickslap. Dickslap is a naughty, flamboyant cirque du penis-and-boobs incepted as a protest against puritanical LCB rules that forbid the waggling of one's junk and/or boobs in more-or-less public places where booze is sold—such as the Eagle, which was, of course, built for junk waggling. (Oh, irony! You kill me!) But forget the penises for a second. Forget the possible boobs! Think of it as one last opportunity to catch a live Stella sighting. So sad. (Bye, Stella!) The Eagle, 10 pm, $5, 21+.

This article has been updated since its original publication.