If you can't afford that summer getaway you've been dreaming about and are weary of grilling chicken and burgers, plan something different after a visit to a grocery that takes you to another world. You can shop for everything from pork ears to chicken feet, pickled cabbage to duck eggs. The seafood selection is remarkable (tilapia, milkfish, China grouper and squid). Might want to take home some Wei-Chaun dumplings for the right appetizer and plan to spend time looking over the wide variety of exotic spices (ever try dried lily flower?) and teas. Talk about fun shopping. They're open daily from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m.

To call David Broussard an artist in no way overstates the obvious. Just look around his shop high atop Central Expressway, adjoining the Premier Club. He is a sculptor who prefers working in steel, and his artwork--much of it encompassing religious themes--adorns the shop walls. He plays a spirited bass guitar and writes his own songs, the latest of which can be heard on the headsets he will gladly apply before or after shampooing. His haircuts are as skilled as his art: precise, well-designed and well-executed. Although he works on men, women flock to his scissors, and he will trim the children of his customers for the asking. They sense they are safe in his hands, although they are not quite sure what large metallic crosses and stars of David are doing in a hair salon.

If you want to buy garden tools that will last, Smith & Hawken has what you need. Of course, you'll need to bring a lot of money, but the investment will provide perennial returns. The Uptown store carries everything a gardener needs, from hand rakes and soil scoops to bulb planters and precision weeders. Forget what you planted last spring? No problem. Smith & Hawken also sells zinc plant markers, among other hard-to-find accessories. When you're done toiling in the fields, nothing relaxes quite like the store's wide selection of fine teak chairs and chaises.

During a serious costume crisis, we visited the Dallas Costume Shoppe. We got great help and quite a bit of kitty lovin'. Skutr, a beautiful mix who looks part siamese and part short-haired Himalayan, greeted us at the door with a meow and a stretch. He accompanied us on our wig hunt, cutting figure eights through our legs and pawing for a scratch of the ears. The human assistance was quick and thorough, solving our costume woes, but it was Skutr who made us wish we had 10 more characters to dress, just so we could spend the day with the soft little affection-giver. Skutr is a master of promotions, making us determined to call again on the feline-friendly costume shop.

With the holidays quickly approaching (by which we mean our birthday), you might wanna stop by the Ridge--the self-proclaimed "home décor and craft marketplace," which just sends a tingle up the spines of men everywhere--to load up on immortal wreaths and other flowers made of silk and synthetic material. From pottery to potpourri, from party goods to pictures and posters (for frames and, yes, you sad souls without family photos to fill them), from candles to curtains, this chain store has generous amounts of decently priced crap to make any dorm room or any mansion feel like Martha Stewart went hog-wild while blindfolded. And we mean that as a compliment: When we're not tricking up our house with the latest Todd Oldham trinket from Target, we're at Garden Ridge, wondering how we spent $124 on candles that smell like roses and feet.

Put those hands up for the team of experts that can mend them like no one else. Doctors David Zehr, Arnold DiBella and Paul Rosco Ellis III compose said team, and it seems there's nothing they can't hand-le (sorry about that, but we just had to). These talented doctors/surgeons tackle trauma, sports injuries, pinched nerves, wrist injuries, vascular and nerve injuries, amputations, tumors and arthritis. And we thought we did a lot in a day. The special thing about these guys (Dr. DiBella is truly outstanding in this area) is that they explain things to patients until they understand. There's no quick diagnosis and exit, leaving the nurse to take over. The doctors take the time to show models, diagrams and demonstrations of injuries and are completely up front about what it will take to fix the problem. With parts as important to daily life as hands, that frankness and understanding are invaluable.

Usually, in Best of Dallas, we tell you where to find the good deals. But sometimes we just gotta tell you, look, these folks are the best, but it's gonna cost you. Pay it. It's worth it. That's the case with Silks Abloom. They're not the cheapest in town--far from it. But if you want a distinctive, stunning faux flower arrangement or greenery for your house, it's hard to do better than these folks. So don't blame us when you get the credit card bill, but do give us credit when your purchase earns you ooohs and aaahs.

Even drunk, we would never ever belt out a rendition of Tom Jones' "Delilah" in public. (What we do in the privacy of our own shower is none of your business.) But it's nice to know that if we wanted to (and to be honest, we sorta do), we could thrill--or induce vomiting among--the lovely birds in an audience. All we would need is a stop at this Valley View mall shop, which sells and rents karaoke machines, mixing boards and microphones, along with the largest selection of karaoke-ready songs in Texas--somewhere between 70,000 and 100,000 titles. They even provide DJs and setups for parties, wedding receptions and, we suppose, really rockin' wakes. If you think that karaoke died sometime about the era of the first Bush administration, check out the store's Web site at www.spotlightonkaraoke.com to see the huge variety of equipment available. Someone, somewhere is into this, so there may yet be hope for our lounge-act dreams.

Rumor has it our couch came from the set of Good Morning, Texas, and, yeah, it took awhile to get those Sams stains out; someone really should Scotchguard that dude. But, nonetheless, it was one hell of a bargain--something like $300, when it would have cost us $1,000, more or less (more, likely). And we picked it, and the rest of our house's furnishings, up at the Gabberts outlet on Furniture Row near LBJ Freeway and Midway Road. This place is a mecca for high-quality merch at low, low prices--leather couches at pennies on the dollar (OK, quarters on the dollar, but whatever), recliners so cheap you can rest a little easier, armoires you can afford without knocking over an armored car. Some of this stuff deserves to be dirt cheap--some looks as though it came from the Bradys' house in 1971--but even then, better retro "kitsch" than au courant broke, we say. Nice selection of rugs, too, as well as other stuff with which to stuff your house. Or apartment. Or trailer home. Or underpass.

Gotta love the work shirt. More specifically, we love the random name patches that adorn the work shirt. Vintage or new, the shirt should fit, but that's all we really require of it. It is, after all, all in the name. Petey, Mike, Renaldo, Tito, Leroy, Jessie, Martha. We found all of those and more at the little hole in the wall called Hollywood Five & Dime, located a few doors down from Bar of Soap on Parry Avenue. We've used them for place settings, party favors, gag gifts and on our clothing. While there, check out the teen pulp memorabilia, vintage-style sundresses and creeper shoes. The store holds enticements for those into tiki, rockabilly and punk (we still want those Sex Pistols magnets). But back to the patch. If you were born with a name you've struggled to hide for years, stop by Hollywood and pick out a new one to test out. After all, a seam ripper is a lot cheaper than a legal fee for the mutation of your moniker.