Once again, the landscape of nightlife is a'changing. Sometimes, you have to stir up the water to catch a few fish, which is exactly what happened to us. East Village Monday-night favorite Le Souk lost its liquor license, forcing patrons to take their business to Le Souk Harem, but it's the neighborhood that's the real loser. Wandering aimlessly in search of something new and good on Sunday night, we found a new party at White Slab Palace. Places we'd long since wrote off somehow hit the spot if not filled the void. An object lesson on wandering outside your comfort zone.

Being a partier used to be as simple as throwing on a clean tee and getting out the door. Now, it's work. The Jane was once our last great hope; it's now all but shuttered. Just when we feel we've found our new home, a place where -- if not everyone knows our name, at least they know our label -- it loses its license, lease, or cool. If we were lazy, we'd advise you to try the Boom Boom Room every single night of the week, but if on top of the world isn't really your scene, here's what's been moving and shaking amongst the movers and shakers this week. We'll be trying them out one by one, consumed with the determination to find our Beatrice Inn incarnate.

Are you tired of hokey recession specials that never end up scratching your gnawing, thirsty itch? We are rapidly becoming a city of broke drunks, thus it is vital we learn how to be the best broke drunks we can be. If you have no job, no prospects, and only a few bucks, but still maintain flawless taste, then check out the top ways to get your drink on without further damaging the already broken bank.

● Calle Ocho (Upper West Side) - Go to this spacious, attractive UWS Nuevo Latino on Sundays and order an appetizer. The policy is you must eat some sort of food in order to partake in the monster "sangria station," which is totally and completely F-R-E-E! That is correct, kiddies. A bevy of fruits, wines, rums, and all sorts of tasty drinkable treats line the dining room buffet-style, where you can ladle yourself to inebriation for hours.
● Welcome to the Johnsons (Lower East Side) - I like my bars how I like my men: grungy and cheap. This place is suitable for getting sloshed before going to the neighboring, pricier hotspots such as the Hotel on Rivington, 205, or Stanton Social.

● Butter (Greenwich Village) - Butter Mondays, but what else is new? This party has defied New York City’s attention-deficit disorder pandemic since 2002.
● Johnny Utah’s (Midtown West) - Nobody said Monday-night dancing had to be classy; instead, this midtown saloon hypes their bull-riding challenge for all the pretty service industry folks.

I’ve known Ian Gerard of Gen Art from the beginning. Gen Art parties are must-attend events that combine an eclectic mix of the film, art, and an amazing social scene in clubs around town. Ian was originally very hands-on with the details at every event, and he did everything short of popping the popcorn. He booked the films, did the invites, arranged for the after-party venue, got the liquor sponsor, invited the crowds, did the door, then went inside and schmoozed with everyone -- and at the end of the night, he swept out the place. Gen Art has gotten too big for that much control, and Ian has delegated to a creative crew, but the upcoming Gen Art Film Festival has gotten better and better and more significant over the years. I stole Ian away from his furious preparations for this years’ festival to ask him a few questions about Gen Art.

Danny Kane, Redd Stylez, and Rod Surut are gearing up the space formerly known as the Biltmore Room for an April opening. It will be called “The Gates” -- a reference to the heavy ornate gates that guard the entrance. The Gates will be "a high-end lounge with food," and the menu is slated to be "new American cuisine.”

A Monday-night walk in Mr. Lewis' neighborhood would impress even Mr. Rogers. My first stop was Butter, where I wanted to say hi to my dearest friend Sherry and to congratulate William Curran, who was just made general manager. Butter was the first restaurant I designed, and because of that I still have a nostalgic connection to the place (plus it’s still the hottest night around). The door was expecting Jerry Seinfeld’s wife Jessica, but who showed up instead but Madonna herself, with boyfriend Jesus attached. An old Jewish pal who's pretty knowledgeable about Kabbalah and such things explained why Madonna was wearing a schoolgirl costume with a black wig, tights, miniskirt, and old-school Converses, and why baby Jesus was all Joker/Ledgered out. I was told that they were celebrating Purim, that it is Esther's year, and that the costumes were part of the ritual celebration.

It's Monday night. Where do you go?

1. Butter (Greenwich Village) - Celeb hang has surprising longevity of Monday night party. High-test hotties and much meticulously tousled hair.
2. Antik (East Village) - Supposedly semi-private spot fans flames on the new and, er, improved Bowery.
3. Lit (East Village) - Rock bar du jour for hos and bros of the ain't-we-the-shit set.

I was asked by my editor to compile a list of the best joints on any given night -- i.e. Mondays at Butter or Tuesdays at Rose Bar. As I travel in and enjoy many scenes, I answered the question as where you might find me on any given night. As has been pointed out constantly in the comments section, I am a flaming schizophrenic, so what I feel like doing one night might not apply a week later. That said, here are my choices, with explanations and alternatives for the left side of my brain.