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.

This one is as easy as it gets, since it appeals to the smallest subgroup out there: gays and lesbians who read comic books. Not too many people cater to that particular market. But Richard and the rest of the crew at Zeus not only do just that, they do it in style, with regular get-togethers at neighboring Mexican restaurant Ciudad for rainbow-flag readers. Both places work fine on their own (Zeus is one of the best comics shops in town, especially for people just getting into reading them; Ciudad's food is flip-out fantastic), but they're even better together.

We're scared of many things, such as mosquitoes (West Nile!), snakes (poison!) and monkeys (the Marburg monkey virus, which for some reason we fear more than its well-known sister virus, Ebola!). We're also queasy about the sun and its link to skin cancer, which is why we are pasty and have no luck with the ladies. That's why we plan to visit Planet Tan and do what our good friend did: get misted. For the person who needs to be caramelized, Planet Tan can apply the UV-free Mist-On Tan product. It gives you a sweet golden-brown tone for up to a week, which is all the time we need to find a soul mate. The procedure is complete in less time than it takes to disrobe, so if you've got a big event coming up, or if you just need to even out your own tan, stop by a day or two before you need to wear that revealing outfit and do what we light-fearing folk do: Buy yourself some good looks.

We heard about one mom who was so desperate to cut her 2-year-old's hair that she took the scissors to him while he was asleep. Given that she wasn't a trained professional, and it was dark, and half the kid's hair was under his head pressed against the mattress, the result wasn't so great. We're not sure what happened after that, but someone saw a woman with a hair-impaired toddler buying knit caps at Baby Gap. Too bad she hadn't heard of Kids Kutz, started by two single moms who knew a thing or two about desperation themselves. Jackie Ricks, a licensed cosmetologist, and Martha Rehfeldt, a licensed barber/stylist, found themselves out of work in 1998 when Dallas' Little Things went out of business and their children's hair gig there was gone forever. Necessity being the mother of invention, Ricks and Rehfeldt opened their own place. Even if your kiddo isn't afraid of the haircut experience, there is still the "wriggle" factor to consider. Ricks and Rehfeldt put their moms' ingenuity to work with their scissors skills, providing elephant and tiger chairs for their small clients, and movies. "We instinctively feel the kids out," Rehfeldt says, "and decide how best to approach each one. We see the brave and boisterous, and the shy and scared. We've never had a bad experience yet." Word-of-mouth gets Kids Kutz most of its clients, and even some of PBS' Barney kids get coiffed there. Rehfeldt says the trend among 6- to 10-year-olds is the Harry Potter cut for boys, and the Olsen twins for girls. Kids Kutz has a regular chair for harried moms and dads who make the trip to Euless for the kids but need a quick trim while they're there.