Why pay a $500 cover for the right to sit in smelly booths and drink overpriced magnums of Cristal when you can shell out $20 (with invite) and party with the most devilish kids in the city? The Motherfucker posse always save the day on major holidays—and knowing how traumatized we’ll all be after spending a few days with our family, they want us to fuck the pain away and bring in the new year with a big, bad headache. Fantastic. The usual suspects—DJs Michael T, Justine D, and Misstress Formika—are on hand to help your hangover happen; plus there’s a special guest DJ appearance from Interpol’s Carlos D. The party starts “late” at two, so plan your stupid midnight kiss elsewhere, like Murray Hill’s cheap and slutty affair, New Year’s Sleaze. Tuesday @ 2 a.m., Discotheque, 17 W 19th, 352-9999.

You can get plenty of kisses at the sleazefest, and when not harassing Mr. Hill for free booze, you should ask DJ Penelope Tuesdae to show you her tits—chances are, she’ll already be baring them. Other high jinks come courtesy of the Dazzle Dancers, a gaggle of boys and girls also known for inappropriate nudity in public places. DJ Adam and J.D. (of Le Tigre fame) provide the music. Since you’ll get what you pay for, and you’ll only be paying 10 bucks, you know it’s top-rate. Tuesday @ 9, the Hole, 29 Second Ave, 539-3197.

Also only 10 bones, is Dave Hollands’s cozy li’l affair at Novecento. Just a hop, skip, and jump away from the restaurant-bar-turned-mini-lounge, Paul Oakenfold and Deep Dish spin at the slick new celebrity joint Capitale. But the fools in line for this event will be paying $200, and the tunes they will be hearing won’t be nearly as good as the ones Mr. Hollands will be dishing out. Tuesday @ 9, Café Novecento, 343 W Bway, 925-4706.