Wander the streets in search of answers no longer, Orlandoans, the Best of Orlando has finally arrived! In these pages you'll glean priceless insight from the City Beautiful's most trusted scribes on where to sup, shop, sightsee and find solitude. Because Orlando Weekly only appeals to the best and brightest, we've also included our readers' opinions on what's valuable in this burgeoning metropolis. Orlando Weekly's Best of Orlando: the handbook of modern life in our beloved city!

A bar with grit

Soldiers, be brave. Reinforcements are here. The Sisyphean task of keeping central Orlando from turning into an enormous condominium complex has found another ally. The stylish schizophrenia of Mills Avenue is ripe for yuppification, and word of a new bar on the strip sent $12-martini chills down the spines of many. Heroically defying the gentrification trend, Uncle Lou's Entertainment Hall has relocated from its original East Michigan Street location to bring the friendly and inviting atmosphere that comes naturally with tall cans of Schlitz Malt Liquor. The welcoming sight of the proprietor's gold-toothed grill and his relaxed Jamaican patois is a comforting complement to the Janet Jackson posters on the wall, the booming music on the stereo and the occasional live band. Uncle Lou's: a bar for the rest of us.

(Uncle Lou's Entertainment Hall, 1016 N. Mills Ave., Orlando; 407-898-0009)

Serving its constituency, the Jr Food Store is a friendly corner shop in the urban dregs of Parramore that features a fragrant specialty bubbling in a Crock-Pot: boiled peanuts. Mind you, these are not the plain old salty 'nuts found by the side of the road as you make your way north to the land of fried mullet (Tallahassee). This finely spiced infusion swims in a peppery juice that leaves a satisfying burn — or blister, if you overdo it — on the lips. The legume resting inside could be mistaken for a perfectly cooked red bean, were one to be mushed in the mouth while blindfolded. But keep those eyes open when visiting here to trade your buck for a cupful. It is Parramore, after all.

(Jr Food Store, 503 1/2 W. South St., Orlando; 407-648-4410)

Drink like a king

Be not dissatisfied. Stare no longer at the average package outlet's beer cooler, settling for macrobrewed mediocrity. You're better than that. You deserve the royal treatment. Behold the beautiful thing that is the "beer wall" at Knightly Spirits, a collection of some 800 different types of beer made by people who care about beer. A dizzying assortment of Belgians awaits you; the products of the Guerrilla Brewers Association will tempt you; and, most importantly, the wise and friendly manager, Jason Rawles, will guide you, Merlin-like, through the array of fermented goodness. A brilliant wine selection? Of course. Fine imported liquors? Indeed! Cigars? Top-shelf cigarettes? Oh, if you need a way to make your doctor angry, but your soul soar, Knightly Spirits has it.

(Knightly Spirits, 2603 S. Hiawassee Road, Orlando; 407-298-1515)

China might be the world's up-and-coming superpower, but it's tough to find authentic Chinese grub in this town. Got a craving for cart-delivered dim sum? Get it at Chan's Chinese Cuisine. Dumplings. Baked goodies. Maybe even chicken feet or tripe for adventurous souls! Wusses can chow down on sweet-and-sour pork, if they don't desire to broaden their horizons. Besides, it's not a bad idea to become acquainted with true Chinese food because someday, chopsticks might become our national culinary tool.

(Chan's Chinese Cuisine, 1901 E. Colonial Drive, Orlando; 407-896-0093)

Iced tea — it's a Southern tradition. But who wouldn't agree that tooth-twangingly sugary Nestea is a drink of the past? Infusion Tea has achieved a sorely overdue update of the old standard with its iced mint mate, a naturally sweet brew that peps you up without those pesky caffeine side effects. Another Infusion twist on a hot-climate classic: lavender lemonade, a pearly-hued quencher with an herbal kick.

(Infusion Tea, 1520 Edgewater Drive, Orlando; 407-999-5255; www.infusionorlando.com)

It's a sad fact of life in our busy, modern age: We don't know much about the people living next door anymore, let alone those on the next block. If your block is part of the Lake Davis Heights neighborhood in Orlando, though, you're lucky. Go mingle at 903 Mills Market and meet some nice folks. Have a seat at the outdoor café, grab a tap beer or a glass of wine, and strike up a conversation with the woman training to be a firefighter, the student who works at Disney or the guy who races cars. There're all the people in the neighborhood; the people that you'd never meet while driving down the street.

(903 Mills Market, 903 Mills Ave., Orlando; 407-898-4392; www.903millsmarket.com)

Not ready to commit $50 to a possible one-night-only coupling? Past the stage of trying to impress? Treat that special someone to a $16.03 night on the town: dinner at Cici's Pizza followed by a movie at Colonial Promenade 6 Theater. The all-you-can-eat pizza buffet at Cici's Pizza and $2 month-old movies could be considered a cheap and trashy option, but a more positive spin is to throw out the term "old school." Where else can you eat a whole pizza, show off your X-Men vs. Street Fighter skills and enjoy a virtually empty movie theater (also a dating plus)?

(Cici's Pizza, 4632 E. Colonial Drive, Orlando, 407-228-0900; Colonial Promenade 6, 4672 E. Colonial Drive, Orlando, 407-888-8224)

Feel grabbed by the gills at most sushi joints when it comes to prices? So what if the fish is fine, the rolls pretty, the atmosphere just right, if consideration of a second mortgage comes to mind when the bill arrives? Quality raw fish doesn't need to be outrageously expensive, at least not the way the folks at Bikkuri Sushi feed their hungry. The small but spotless to-go storefront on Colonial sports only a few tables, but behind that pedestrian-looking counter are fish-cutting powerhouses. The 99-cent miso soup is chock-full of wholesome seaweed and bean curd, and the cost of the rolls is frugal enough that you can jump in for a light dinner or a stomach-steadying snack and save your money for more important things, like booze.

(Bikkuri Sushi, 1915 E. Colonial Drive, Orlando; 407-894-4494)

When woes need to be quenched by drinkables and boredom with the same old watering holes brings you down, drink those blues away with British tourists at Murphy's Arms Pub. Listen to funny-accented drunk people belt out their favorite tunes, full of ale and cider that's cheap and delicious. The men are loose, the women are looser, and the sweet music of life rings true in the background. Some may say Murphy's is a smoke-filled dive bar, but that's the charm! When you tire of singing "Paradise City" to warmed-over elevator music, strike up a discussion about imperialism or dental hygiene or how America dragged England's ass out of WWII. The laughs are nonstop, and who couldn't use a few more chums across the pond?

(Murphy's Arms Pub, 6582 International Drive, Orlando; 407-352-0734)

Does your beer conscience balk at the thought of ingesting bland corporate brew? Are all your friends indie rockers who prefer PBR? Does your uncle talk like a pirate? Have a hard time finding a place for all of the above to convene for a night of mead-drenched mayhem? Redlight Redlight in west Winter Park is the solution. Though they celebrate National Talk Like a Pirate Day only once a year, for the remaining 364, the bar is a splendid and cozy conclave of underground music and people even cooler than you. But don't let that love of Journey or Dockers-centric fashion sense prevent you from venturing inside. Redlight Redlight welcomes all, with a wide and varying selection of hard-to-find European beers (Belgians seem to get a lot of play), American microbrews and nary a light beer in sight. Feel at home among people who understand that it's not the clothes you wear, the music you listen to or the way you say "Arrrrr" that defines your coolness. It's the beer you drink.

(Redlight Redlight, 535 W. New England Ave., Winter Park; www.myspace.com/theredlightredlight)

Taste the rainbow

No wink, wink, nudge, nudge necessary. The "rainbow" in Rainbow Sno-Cones simply refers to the spectrum of colors in its 55 flavors of sweet syrups. A couple of different owners have kept the sliding-glass window opening and closing for the past 12 years, heedless of the appropriation of the multicolored band of light by a group with a certain sexual preference. Bob Homer's well-oiled ice crushing machine is as wholesome as Little League baseball, all-beef hot dogs and the Baldwin Park development down the road. Actually, it's a lot more pure than any of those things, coming down to the alchemy of sugar and ice, which is still really nice for cooling down a hot body. Kiddie cups run a dollar, and it's two bucks for the extra-large, plus 25 cents for toppings of cream, condensed milk or marshmallow. A cherry runs cheap at 10 cents a pop.

(Rainbow Sno-Cones, 3116 Corrine Drive, Orlando; 407-896-9105)

At Wazzabi Japanese Steakhouse and Sushi Bar, you can drop a C-note for dinner for two without batting an eyelash. It's not necessary to spend that much money, but you'll want to, because it's worth every penny. The friendly, attentive staff keeps the green tea and plum wine flowing while delivering rolls and sashimi, teppanyaki and a host of other inventive fare in four distinct dining atmospheres: the sushi bar, the central dining area, the glassed-off teppanyaki room and the patio with tables made from slices of cypress trees cut in Vietnam. The teppanyaki experience is a show in itself, as chefs slice, dice and fashion flaming onion volcanoes, making the evening worthwhile before the food is even served. Owned by the creative force behind the former Ohashi Sushi, Wazzabi puts on a colorful display of all that's worthy about independently owned restaurants. It's the best newcomer of the year.

(Wazzabi Japanese Steakhouse and Sushi Bar, 1408 Gay Road, Winter Park; 407-647-8744; www.wazzabisushi.com)

The best Philly cheese steak you've never had is cooked at Earthstone Grill. The small downtown establishment does no advertising, has bland-as-can-be decorating, is virtually empty most days and has Armenian owners who, despite never residing in Philly, know how to cook up a cheese steak sandwich like their blood runs thick with it.

(Earthstone Grill, 20 S. Orange Ave., Orlando; 407-426-1212)

Find it difficult to wrap your mouth around the names of troublesomely titled Indian dishes? That shouldn't stop you from wrapping said mouth around the food on the menu at Spice Cafe. Your turn to host Bollywood night? Drop in and pick up the best malai kofta in town. Need a midday pick-me-up that will transport you to the sidewalks of Bombay? This is the only place in town with bhel puri on the menu. Quick, tasty and inexpensive, just point to the menu, nod and be on your way.

(Spice Café, 7536 Dr. Phillips Blvd., Orlando; 407-264-0205)

Lots of clubs have a night dedicated to the '80s, but what sets Independent Bar's "Sunday Night Vinyl" apart from the rest are 50-cent well drinks and a midget DJ playing goth and industrial in the club's second room. Erik Dennison, one of the hosts of Real Rock 104.1's Real Music Weekends show, spins the Cure and Billy Idol in the main room, along with DJ Smilin' Dan. Together, the crew gets guys who are too cool to dance shaking it on the floor while their (sometimes corseted) girlfriends flock to the booth.

(Independent Bar, 70 N. Orange Ave., Orlando; 407-839-0457; www.independentbar.net)

Witness a "honky-tonk badonkadonk" in action up close at Jesse Black Saloon, aka the Most Bizarre Conflation Known to Man. Booties shake to country twangs! Line dances are neatly delivered to hip-hop beats! Bikini-clad babies compete in bull-riding contests, cheered by city-roaming rednecks who are impressively bombed on the "$10 All You Can Drink" nights! This venue is dedicated to making sure that the five or so remaining cattlemen in Central Florida have a place to drink, while equally ensuring that those same cattlemen are sufficiently shocked by the glittery, sexually charged urbanism of what can best be described as Coyote Ugly meets Gilley's meets Tabu.

(Jesse Black Saloon, 333 E. Oak Ridge Road, Orlando; 407-852-9711; www.myspace.com/jesseblacksaloon)

Crusty situation

Tenacity is the American way. So is handcrafted quality. And melting pot-ness. And freedom, too. Thus, Rossi's is the most American establishment in Orlando, if not the planet! Find exotic Italian dishes like "pizza" and "pasta" on the same menu as red-white-and-blue dishes like Buffalo wings and submarine sandwiches! Rossi's further exemplifies its powers of cultural appropriation with something called "Mexican pizza," which — with its jalapeños, spicy ground beef and "salsa" — is truly global in scope. Tenacity? Try surviving two decades on Orange Blossom Trail. Freedom? Rossi's lets customers choose which toppings will land on their pizza! Combine the best pizza in Orlando with a profoundly excellent beer selection. (This is where Orlando's beer geeks meet, so there are standards to uphold.) Here's an establishment more patriotic than freedom fries!

(Rossi's, 5919 S. Orange Blossom Trail, Orlando; 407-855-5755)

Heroes are hard to find, but Tom Moench is truly a hero to Orlando. As president of Unique Beers — and a self-described "beer geek" — Moench's single-minded mission is to pour tasty beer down the gullets of Orlandoans. Short of pulling a baby from the mouth of a flaming pit bull, there's nothing more heroic. Distributing Shipyard, Dogfish Head, Sea Dog, a long line of European imports and, best of all, his own Orange Blossom Pilsner, Moench battles the deep-pocketed, well-marketed purveyors of big-batch swill on his mission to educate people's palates and make them very, very happy.

(www.uniquebeers.com)

Voyeurs and the like will love the sight of a scuzzy old man's hands caressing the backside of a pretty, drunk 20-something. It happens nightly at Howl at the Moon, the International Drive piano bar where performers slap bumper stickers on the bumpers of just about anyone who wants one. Then they sing songs. Then everyone gets drunk. Then another young lady gets her rear molested, and the fun starts all over again.

(Howl at the Moon, 8815 International Drive, Orlando; 407-354-5999; www.howlatthemoon.com/orlando_tonight.html)

Retail's rare breed

Nothing says "discriminating pet owner" like an Alaskan Klee Kai, a supernaturally handsome and intelligent dog breed limited to only a few hundred specimens throughout the globe. To adopt one, you need a lot of money, a few years of your life on a waiting list and the ability to meet a picky breeder's rigorous specifications. While you're toughing it out, enjoy the next best thing: Visits with Lupin, the gorgeous, personality-laden Klee Kai that often accompanies Steve Lewis to his Winter Park hipster emporium, Überbot. Lupin is a genuine animal lover's find — perhaps the only one of her breed living anywhere in Florida. But you'd hardly know it from the totally non-diva-ish way in which she howls out a greeting to recognized customers, accepts some gentle petting — remember, we said "some" and "gentle" — and then lets them indulge their inexplicable interest in all that other stuff on the shelves. You know, that stuff that's not her. Hmmmph.

(Überbot, Winter Park Village, 480 N. Orlando Ave., Suite 126, Winter Park; 407-788-8237; www.myspace.com/lupinbot)

Become a vegetarian, unexpectedly

One look at the chopped neck of a pinkish bird or the dilated eye of a dead fish, and anybody with a mind for aesthetics would grab a square of tofu with a scallion on it and run for the nearest huggable tree. There's a culture of offensiveness to outsiders in the Asian markets that proliferate in the so-called Little Saigon area of town; the shops are seemingly dedicated to the smell of dead fish and rotting carcasses. (Day-after bingers beware.) Dong A Imports & Market may be the best among them, but still, don't be surprised when you give your conscience a deserved vacation and toss your eating habits safely into the guiltless wrap of a spinach leaf.

(Dong A Imports & Market, 706 N. Mills Ave., Orlando; 407-894-6062)

Catch a rising (or falling) star

The relocation of Park Ave CDs (from tony Park Avenue to funky Corrine Drive) elicited many an indie-rock sigh. Scenesters moped through anemic angst at the prospect of Central Florida's best music store losing its religion among the barbershops of old Corrine. Not so! The bigger, better Park Ave CDs now boasts both wider aisle space to shake your hips through and a stage for in-store performances. Every day can be Rex Manning Day there — and frequently is. Live acoustic sets make being a music fan fun again, even when it's dreary Jared Leto pantomiming rock-star with his 30 Seconds to Mars outfit.

(Park Ave CDs, 2916 Corrine Drive, Orlando; 407-629-5293; www.parkavecds.com)

The future is now

Are you among the lovers of modern furnishings who've been outnumbered by the chintz-and-cherubs crowd for far too long? Help is on the way. For more than three years, Design & Solutions in the China Glass Warehouse has been the place to find modern pieces from marquee names like Kartell and Artemide. Last year, interior-design firm Studio 3 Designs opened on Orange Avenue, causing any number of near-collisions by rubberneckers gawking at the gorgeous window display of Knoll-inspired seating and chartreuse laser-cut Tord Boontje lampshades. But this summer, form-follows-function folks on a budget can hit BoConcept, an international chain overflowing with flexible modular furniture that looks like a million but rings in somewhere closer to Crate and Barrel prices. For those on a tighter budget, there's an IKEA on the horizon, scheduled to open in July 2007 near the Mall at Millenia. On the wish list: an independent design shop along the lines of New York's Moss or Future Perfect to cover the accessories like tableware, lighting and objets.

(D&S, 62 W. Colonial Drive, Orlando, 407-843-0799; Studio 3 Designs, 1217 N. Orange Ave., Orlando, 407-895-0856; BoConcept, 464 N. Alafaya Trail, Orlando, 407-281-6331, www.boconcept.us)

Shop like a man

If you're a man (and research indicates that about 50 percent of you are), you know: Shopping sucks. But what if you could drink beer while doing it? You can, at Petty's Meats and Specialty Foods, where the keg's always tapped — as it should be. You'll also find a huge case full of beef, sausage, chicken, turkey and fish for the grill. Even the French cheese looks good after a couple of brews.

(Petty's Meats and Specialty Foods, 2141 W. State Road 434, Longwood; 407-862-0400; www.pettysmeats.com)

Squid, veggies and banh mi, oh my!

For a decade, the Ly family has peddled its authentic Asian foods at its L&L Oriental Market on Sand Lake Road. About three years ago, they opened a second location — Super Oriental Market in the Vietnamese enclave on Colonial Drive. The store rivals the size of the nearby Publix, and the Lys claim to have "the largest selection of vegetarian food choices in the city." Come with an open mind to browse through no-frills aisles stocked with everything from fresh ginger to fresh octopus. There's something about the sound of poppy Vietnamese music that enlivens the shopping experience. Stop by the deli counter for a liver paté banh mi (similar to a sub sandwich) for $2, or enjoy roast duck or pork banh mi on the weekends. This is not your typical American grocery store.

(Super Oriental Market, 2100 E. Colonial Drive, Orlando; 407-898-6858)

Wrap that package!

You've worked all of your life to become more than a number, but there are times when blending back into a numeric code is exactly what the doctor ordered. Orange County Health Department's confidential HIV-testing services, offered in Room 218 of its downtown Central Boulevard location, strip your pesky nomenclature prior to asking you when the last time you had sex was and whether or not you swallowed. A painless blood sample is taken, followed by a painful couple of weeks of waiting, and then your personal code gets the answers it needs. What's more, a label-less brown bag of condoms is offered after your consultation, as if to say, "Go out and get 'em, number!"

(Orange County Central Health Clinic, 832 W. Central Blvd., Orlando; 407-836-2680; www.orchd.com/HIV)

Flyaways

It's necessary sometimes to leave a place to figure out just how much you love it. The Air Orlando Flight School at Orlando Executive Airport can teach intrepid travelers how to extricate themselves — for pleasure, business or otherwise — at a cost of approximately $9,000 ($7,300-$11,000, including books, exams, flight time and headset rental). Of course, you'll need to buy your own plane eventually, and gas prices aren't exactly flight-friendly these days. But who can put a price on freedom?

(Air Orlando Flight School, 319 N. Crystal Lake Drive, Orlando; 407-896-0721; www.flyairorlando.com)

Threads on the cheap

Don't be daunted by shopping just a few doors down from the famous Ritzy Rags boutique, where a big man can happen upon a pair of size 14 red stilettos, if fancy strikes, or where victims of life-threatening illnesses can replace their tresses — but that's a whole 'nother story. Downtown Consignment's windows are full of fashion reruns for real women and men, and the prices are not quite a five-finger discount — but close. Spill something on your shirt at work? Stop in and walk out spotless, only a few coins lighter. Need a killer dress? No worries. Just fish around till you find one and hand over a 10-spot. Underpanties? Pennies. Shhhhh — not everyone is special enough to know that shopaholics unload their guilt here, so thrifty shoppers don't have to have any.

(Downtown Consignment, 934 N. Mills Ave., Orlando; 407-895-3434)

Keep a soldier in Iraq alert

Amp up our boys on caffeine donated through the Bad Ass Cup-o-Joe program. Nobody wants to make the troops in Iraq TOO jumpy (no itchy trigger fingers, please), but sometimes a decent cup of coffee is necessary to stay vigilant and clear-headed. According to Staff Sgt. Paul N. Whelan, adjutant for Marine Air Control Group 38, "You can't get a decent cup of coffee where we're stationed at. The local blends taste like dishwater or mud, depending on where you go. And it's too dangerous to stand in line for coffee from street vendors." If the corrupt war profiteers hired to supply our boys can't serve a solid brew in Iraq, who can? Well, YOU. Keep 'em wired.

(Bad Ass Coffee, 8554 International Drive, Orlando; 407-226-8673; www.badasscoffee.com)

Good hair play

Need your locks changed and want something new? Try having a heterosexual Brit do you with a cut and color. Lee at the Alchemy Hair Salon is a refreshing break from the chichi stereotype, being from the same neck of Sherwood Forest as Robin Hood and all. He's as adorable as his accent, and insists upon putting the robe on you himself — nice touch! Fearless with the scissors, he likes to cycle about town and drink and travel and drink and listen to music and drink — with all kinds of people! And if and when you grow weary of each other, just move along to one of the other exceptional stylists who park their chairs inside this hair haven in College Park.

(The Alchemy Hair Salon, 2812 Edgewater Drive, Orlando; 407-650-8022)

Cool baby clothes

So you've reproduced — that doesn't mean you've suddenly lost your taste. Been disappointed, if not horrified, by the dreck infants are forced to wear? There's no reason that any new little bundle of joy can't look as cool as mommy or daddy. Coco Baby makes tiny screen-printed T-shirts and onesies that are as hip as any other limited-edition American Apparel garb, and they're locally made and sold by Evan and Maleah Webb (the same Maleah from Stardust and Alchemy fame)! Don't buy made-in-China crap when a superior local business is just waiting for support. And don't EVER dress that kid in pastel teddy bears if you want him to be as cool as his parents.

(Coco Baby; www.cococlothing.com)

Free manure replacement

Hey, gardeners: If you didn't get your compost at Monterey Mushroom Farm, you paid too much! Monterey, in Zellwood, gives away spent mushroom compost for free. They use it once to grow mushrooms, then it's yours. It's a wonderful soil additive for lawn and garden. Bring that pickup truck between 8 a.m. and 3 p.m. any day of the week and fill it up with this steam-pasteurized mix of straw, hay, gypsum and protein meal.

(Monterey Mushroom Farm, 5949 Sadler Road, Zellwood; 407-905-4000; www.montereymushrooms.com)

Bathe in earthiness

Shop local, smell global with Orenda Herbal bath products. Sensitive skin needs tender loving care, so why douse it in petrolatum or rub methylparaben into those pores? Even for the Dove-and-water kind of girl, locally crafted herbal face and bath products are enticing — they smell good and look good. And, best of all, you'll feel good about dropping dollars in the community economy. Orenda Herbal's salt scrubs and milk baths, scented with organic jasmine, rosemary and chamomile oils, combat summer's stress on skin. Keep a spray bottle of the Lemon Refresh facial toner in the refrigerator for a luxurious spa experience in your own kitchen.

(Orenda Herbal; 407-595-3731; www.orendaherbal.com/facebath.html)

It's a given: No one loves appliances more than the Asian guy in the Appliance Direct commercials. And for some folks, there's no better way to spend time than studying his jewels of cinematic commercialism. For these junkies, a fix of home hardware is available 24/7 via the online streaming versions of his performances. Stay on the edge of your seat wondering which one to watch. Will it be the girl in the green dress who hits the truck while screaming, "Same-day delivery!"? Will it be the infomercial-within-an-infomercial about the "butcher" who can't get bloodstains out of his clothes? It's an endless loop of porcelain fashions, and it's just a mouse-click away.

(www.appliancedirect.com)

DUI guaranteed

Nothing goes together like drinking and driving! (No endorsement implied, mind you.) But convenience is key at the Chevron on Princeton Street, where fuel tanks of any sort can be filled and there's a choice of 140 different kinds of beer — more than most liquor stores! It's a handy stop for drinkers on their way to a party, and it's also handy for cops low on ticket quotas: Anyone stopping in for a party refill with a hint of hops already on his or her breath, or anyone with the bad judgment to actually crack one on the way out of the service station, is easy DUI pickings. Resist the temptation.

(Chevron, 300 E. Princeton St., Orlando; 407-897-7444)

For a quarter-century, Amazon Hose & Rubber Co. has woven its gummy viscosity into the synthetic fabric of this city. It's a veritable playground for the industrially connected and irrigation superior. Rows and spools of daunting circulation tower over even the most (horti)cultured souls who dare to enter its warehouse, but a warm sense of history pulls it all together, winds it up and keeps it wet. Back in spring, Amazon hosted a concert right there in its warehouse: the Fish and Flowers Festival, all Christmas-lit with a punch bowl in the middle. (Insert rubber joke here.)

(Amazon Hose & Rubber Co., 1625 W. Princeton St., Orlando; 407-843-8190; www.amazonhose.com)

Feel fat and broke

Need a reason to beat yourself up about gaining a few pounds and spending too much on the power bill? Stand in front of the window at Tuni's boutique on Park Avenue and stare at the wispy fashions that cling to the curvaceous bodies of the mannequins, dripping with imaginary dollars. The colors are so "follow me." The looks are so "take-me-right-now." You have to have something beautiful, and you have to have it right now. Step inside, where the beautiful salesgirls can step and fetch OR give you a sniffy reality check: "We don't have ANYTHING in your size." That means your body OR your wallet. Walk away, giving yourself a stern admonishment: "How dare you eat AND have air-conditioning, sweaty pig!"

(Tuni's, 301 S. Park Ave., Winter Park; 407-628-1609)

While life in this strip-mall haven can be tough for a true urban soul, one cosmopolitan pursuit comes easy here: hunting down the rarest limited-edition Nike, Adidas and Puma shoes. While New Yorkers pay through the nose at snooty temples of hip like Alife on Rivington, Orlandoan sneaker pimps need only head down to the outlets around International Drive. Throw a few elbows in the throng of British and Brazilian tourists — these places are usually mobbed — to score that elusive Air Rift, Rekord or Mostro at less-than-eBay prices.

(Adidas Retail Outlets, 4949 International Drive, Orlando, 407-352-3607; 5435 International Drive, Orlando, 407-351-1134; 8200 Vineland Ave., Orlando, 407-477-0473. Nike Factory Outlets, 5201 W. Oak Ridge Road, Orlando, 407-351-9400; 8200 Vineland Ave., Orlando, 407-239-3663. Puma Outlet Store, 8200 Vineland Ave., Orlando, 407-239-6211)

Hungry, bored and broke? The popular Panera Bread chain routinely stocks up their samples bin with fresh asiago focaccia bread. To work their system, just show up with a Wi-Fi-configured laptop, set yourself up in a cozy corner and start the abuse. A whole day of news, e-mail and food can be had on the corporate dime.

(Panera Bread, multiple locations; www.panerabread.com)

Want to buy a non-slummy condo in Orlando? Fat chance, kid. Housing prices continue to soar across Central Florida, while you're stuck in a rental. You say you're ambitious? And desperately want a piece of this booming economy? You've got a problem. You can't qualify to buy anywhere you'd want to live. Even though record numbers of apartments in the city have gone condo, they're all too expensive for you! You could bitch about it OR just wait for Mayor Buddy Dyer's promised "workforce housing," designed to bring young professionals downtown, right where he wants them — a reality coming later rather than sooner. Or you could take matters into your own hands. We hear Domino's is hiring.

Year-round gaudy lawn display

Envy is what you'll feel when you lay your eyes upon the shrine at 2403 Vine St., at the corner of Bumby Avenue. Look at the plastic animal figurines! Waterfalls! Windmills! It's insane! There's just got to be a code violation somewhere among the giant water buffalo and 10-point buck standing guard. Why wait till the red-and-green season to turn the exterior of your domicile into neighbor-loving art that flashes in the dark?

Excuses, excuses

Screw up at work and desperate to escape the blame so you don't get canned? Consult Ernest Page! Only last year, the now-suspended city commissioner got his hand stuck in the proverbial cookie jar when he threatened — on tape, no less — to yank a city contract from a developer unless the nonprofit he owns got a cut of the money. And it wasn't even Ernie's first run-in with the fuzz! In the 1980s, when he was a Council newbie, he got busted fencing stolen property and did a few months in the slammer. Twenty years ago, while he was conducting his own stolen-property investigation, he ended up being frog-marched. He was only doing the people's business, he cried out as explanation. The current whopper: He was talking to that developer as a private citizen, not as a commissioner. OK, so maybe on the recording he introduced himself as "Mayor Page." But that was during that confusing six weeks when he served as mayor after Buddy's arrest. He didn't say he was a commissioner. And private citizens can't kill deals, silly. What a master! What moxie! When you need to weasel out, walk like Ernie.

When the Almighty called Sam Ings to run for mayor nearly three years ago, he listened, even if it didn't quite work out for the former cop and evangelical minister. But everything happens for a reason. When Buddy Dyer was temporarily suspended in March 2005 and things were moving toward another mayoral election, Ings decided to again to run. Turned out, there was no other election, so Ings' cheeks never stung with the butt-whipping he had in store. Sigh. But there was nothing stopping him from avenging his lost shots when he teamed up with Doug Guetzloe to get Dyer recalled in October 2005 … d'oh! That didn't work out either. But Jesus taught us never to lose faith. So when Ernest Page was indicted and his city commission seat opened up, Ings ran. And won! The Lord worketh in strange ways.

Standing for … something!

The Orlando Sentinel is where opinions are made, where the town's controversies are dissected and analyzed, and it's where to learn what you should think! Just turn to the editorial page every day for a new lesson. Therein lie such stern decrees as: Barry Bonds is a very bad man. Or: Women select their mates based upon appearance. Or: Rebuilding the World Trade Center is good. Don't stop to bitch that while every newspaper in the world lambasted the Bush administration for secretly collecting phone records, the Sentinel's voice was conspicuously absent. You'd be wrong to believe those other publications, according to the Sentinel. We bear witness to the fact that the Sentinel serves its readers, the ones who hang on every word and agree that downtown horse-drawn carriages are AWESOME!

Watch Katherine Harris implode

Too often the boring world of political machinations is so heavy, so weighty with policy and rhetoric, that it's easy to get turned off. For comic relief, you need Katherine Harris. Since the outset, the make-up diva's campaign for U.S. Senate has been a slow-motion train wreck. Campaign operatives ran from her like the plague, and her cause was so lost that she pledged $10 million of her own money to ratchet up her campaign fund. When polls had her 30 points down, even her Republican brethren tried to elbow her out, convinced she's an incompetent mess. But she presses on, unaware that, even with her radical makeover to remove the dragon-lady label, she doesn't have a chance in hell. If you're in need of political levity, you can't buy better laughs than this.

Fly in the ointment

When it comes to scenemakers of indeterminate origin but boundless if unbridled energy, one Franklin Ratliff makes the best-to-watch-in-action specimen. In his customary docile state, the FR is an easygoing critter that subsists on a steady diet of dramatic presentations, freshly painted still lifes and opening-night buffets. But try to get him to swallow anything not specified in his owner's manual — such as daily-newspaper arts coverage that falls short of his mighty expectations — and the FR is all but guaranteed to turn nasty, firing off breathtakingly insulting e-mails to the "guilty" party (usually Sentinel queen bee Elizabeth Maupin) while taking pains to cc just about every other creature in the known world. The Internet is littered with his imprimatur — especially sites devoted to drag racing. Poor form? Sure. But volatility is a small price to pay for the entertainment that the FR offers. You never had this kind of fun with your ant farm, that's for sure.

Walk with a zombie

Enjoy the works of The Living Dead artist George A. Romero, but not thrilled about paying those high DVD prices? An affordable study in native zombiedom is playing out at a ribbon-cutting near you. The reanimation technology that made Haiti famous keeps fetid swampwater coursing through the veins of supernatural predator Glenda Hood, a distinctly Floridian brand of flesh-eater that keeps coming back from almost-certain death. A controversial run as Orlando's mayor didn't stop the Hooded one from slithering to the coveted position of Florida's Secretary of State, in which the born survivor expended less of her unholy energies fixing the state's voting irregularities than trying to Hoodwink the public that everything was A-OK. Her time in Tallahassee up, she's now back to prowling the City Beautiful's public-appearance beat, sucking up praise and offering to "help out" in the drive to revitalize an Orlando she herself helped push toward ruin. This soul-sucking spectacle guarantees hours of fun.

Start your day with a nice, cold plate of sweet revenge by tuning into WKMG Channel 6 First News, where homegrown role model Marla Weech demonstrates that there are second acts in Central Floridian lives. With your "I'm a Weech watcher" fishing hat and T-shirt firmly in place, bathe in the faint but golden glow of triumph that emanates from your set as the morning's top stories tumble from the lips of Weech — who was considered yesterday's news when she was bounced from WFTV Channel 9 to Action 27 a few years ago, but who recently re-emerged on affiliate television to sweeping success. How sweeping? Try generating a huge ratings spike that's set records for its 5:31 a.m. time slot. Deluxe fan-club packages include a fail-safe alarm clock and a dart set decorated with images of perennial Weech detractors like the Sentinel's Hal Boedeker. Happy throwing!

You've tried 12-step programs. You've tried hypnosis. You've tried acupuncture. But your only genuine hope for kicking drugs and alcohol is the Seminole County school system, which in 2005 advertised for a "prevention lecturer" who could keep its kids off the addictive substances through the force of her inspiring persona and inarguable rhetoric. At least one potential applicant was told that the county was looking for "moms who have college degrees, but are too old to go back to school and don't want to teach." Remember, sufferers, recovery is all about options, so why not learn from someone who doesn't have any? Whether you're a young glue-huffer or a Sterno-crazed vet who can pass for an addict half your age, getting the monkey off your back is as easy as plunking your butt down in a Seminole County classroom and letting the prevention lecturer work her middle-age magic. She's just like your mom, so naturally you're going to hang on her every word.

Counted among the many amenities of life in Central Florida — palm trees, golf courses, plastics, etc. — is the glorious ability to appear that you're doing nothing when your motivations may be more upwardly mobile and/or fabulous. Take the economically dilapidated area at the corner of Amelia Street and Parramore Avenue. At any hour of the day, people from all walks of life stand, sometimes in the middle of the road, with seemingly no (legal) purpose at all — just a cluster of wandering thoughts and their resulting existential discoveries. Sure, there's a bus stop, but most are a good hundred yards from it. What are they talking about? Or, rather, why are they not talking at all: just standing, sagging, sometimes shirtless and/or pregnant? At least farther up the road on OBT, you can tell that they're hustling a quick hand job, or any of the other illicit perks that are the area's signature.

Giving Tree gave up

Shel Silverstein's poignant plea, "Come, boy, sit down, sit down and rest," is summarily chopped down by the existence of the giant, tragic oak stretching across Constitution Green Park, at the intersection of South Summerlin Avenue and South Street, resting (indeed) on the outskirts of the Thornton Park condo boom. You can sleep under it (people do) or lean up against it, but what's most strikingly fantastic is that it grows itself back into the ground … in several places. Structurally speaking, the Giving Tree is in possession of immense drunken metaphor potential, and it's a landmark of failure that you won't soon forget!

Not only does the city of Orlando offer a glittering array of political controversies and Buddy's neck-fat jokes for your disposal, but they also care about downtown homeowners and their special yard-adorning needs. This spring, the city launched its cart-based automated garbage collection system with too little fanfare and too many missed pickups. More noise was needed for the arrival of these oversized black rolling bins with "Take it to the curb, Orlando!" etched onto their sides, now plopped onto sundry cobblestone curbs. What to do with them? Certainly not waste them.

The clippy sound-biting of local news promos has taken on a new, toothy tone: The gators will get you! Watch out for attack birds when you run to your mailbox! But as reported by WESH-TV's I-Teams in May, the avian flu fear level was punched up (along with the ratings) on Orlando's monitor. According to the forever-concerned Wendy Chioji, we could get it first! You hear that? Orlando is potentially the model city for an incurable infection! Citing the transient nature of a tourist town and the natural occurrence of birds over undeveloped land (blah, blah), Chioji and company managed an "exclusive" on the obvious. Things really do (or could) happen in Central Florida!

The music of the wiry, seductive (have you seen him move?) jazz sax master Sam Rivers is a gift gracing our town, which he calls home. And immortality is our fervent prayer for the octogenarian who's always on the go, casting his spell at public performances. We hear that his evergreen nature was proven only last spring, when he walked away from a late-night accident in which he and his car rolled over four times! Rivers himself shook his head as he meandered away from the wreckage. "I guess it's not my time to go," were the golden words reported to us.

Jim Clark is a stern man; just look at the mug shot that accompanies his "Up Front" column in Orlando Magazine. Everything about it, from the angle to the piercing eyes and knit brow, says, "Don't screw with me." Clark's writing is the verbal equivalent of that mug shot. Each month he rips into a hapless subject — the Orange County School Board and the Orlando Sentinel are favorites — like a twister in a mobile home park. Then comes the rest of Orlando mag, a lineup of photos of white people at parties and stories about the city's best dentists and most expensive houses. Clark's column and the rest of the magazine make odd bedfellows, to say the least.

Only $30 for a spot in heaven

Been a Christian all your life, but don't know for sure that your seat is reserved at the Lord's Table? Going to church is good, but the Holy Land Experience is better, because it costs $30 to get in. Both the Florida Legislature and the IRS say the Holy Land isn't an amusement park, and it's sure not a dusty old museum, so what could it be but a church? Remember the saying: The more you spend, the more you're saved.

(Holy Land Experience, 4655 Vineland Road, Orlando; 407-872-2272; www.the holylandexperience.com)

Head-on collision awaits

Combine clueless pedestrians, a poorly marked "bus only" lane and people trying to find a courthouse parking spot and there you have it: nonstop demolition derby action. The corner of Orange Avenue and Livingston Street is blessed with this confluence of elements, and daily — nay, hourly — there's someone who doesn't bother to parse the confusing traffic pattern and guides his car right into the path of an oncoming LYNX bus. For the one-of-a-kind feeling that only comes from anticipating disaster, this is the place.

Nesting with the Rat Pack

The pseudocity of Celebration amazes even the skeptical with its manufactured wholesomeness. Snow at Christmas in this state? They make it fall. Pie-tasting festivals? Crisco rules! Even a stroll down Main Street is soundtracked with relaxing Dean Martin music, piped into speakers that are picturesquely disguised as rocks.

School board's class clown

OK, so sometimes Orange County School Board's Kat Gordon plays the race card when it's not relevant. OK, so she's also missing a filter between her brain and her mouth. Just think of the glass as half-full and suddenly you'll understand that her blunt outbursts are not only really funny stuff, but that they are often needed counterpoints to the extreme business at hand.

Let Vicki run your campaign!

Want to run for public office? Doesn't everyone? But you're going to need a campaign operative, and there's no one else in Orlando who has mastered the Karl Rove-inspired art of mudslinging quite like former city commissioner Vicki Vargo. Her tactics don't always work — notice the word "former" — but she's proven herself capable of stooping to the lowest possible level, even when her allegations are baseless. Those of us following the 2006 City Council race didn't have to look any further than www.reckless robertstuart.com, the now-unplugged site that Vargo erected when her campaign was tanking. There she accused opponent Robert Stuart, who runs a charity organization, of taking food out of the mouths of starving children, positing that he's a monster because he sent campaign e-mails that were mistakenly routed through his work account. "`I`t ranks at the top as one of the most selfish acts of any politician in recent history," Vargo proclaimed. That's someone you'll want on your team.

As the granola crunches

Even as the homogenized establishments of evil corporations anchor the disgusting overdevelopment of our town, there are strong signs that independent entrepreneurs are making a stand. Better yet, there are avid consumers supporting such enterprises, like Dandelion Communitea Cafe, which sprouted up in a quaint repurposed homefront on a side street off Colonial Drive (head north at Little Saigon). Happy Hempy Hummus is among the veggie-friendly munchables, served with wholesome teas and elixirs and community activism.

(Dandelion Communitea and Cafe, 618 N. Thornton Ave., Orlando; 407-362-1864; www.dandelioncommunitea.com)

Big bust

There's nothing cops like better than rounding up strippers who've shown too much of their naughty parts. And when they want a takedown, nothing gets in their way. In recent years, the Metropolitan Bureau of Investigation tainted stings at Rachel's and Cleo's gentlemen's clubs with allegations of chicanery that put the dancers to shame. This year, they're at it again. It's being said that Winter Park cops used a bust at Club Harem (the building on Lee Road that looks like boobies) to harass a club manager who two months earlier had filed a harassment complaint against one of their own. These are Central Florida's finest, so look out, pervs!

Prolific letter-writers

When it comes to backing their man, the "friends and family" of Issac Stolzenbach — of Police Beat, as well as other occasional features in this paper — outnumber any letter-writers in the entire history of Orlando Weekly. Bar none! The screeds arrive in bundles, not only demanding "more Stolzenbach" but spelling his name correctly EVERY TIME. I-S-S-A-C. Unbelievable! Who would catch the variation on the traditional, Biblical spelling: Isaac? Not our usual letter-writers, many of whom have trouble spelling the name of the city in which they live. Either Stolzenbach has a creative stalker OR some really proud 'rents and an extended network of (possibly coerced?) cohorts.

Pointed humiliation

An occasional ass-kicking can keep that ego in line. For those of you who fancy yourselves dart throwers, your chin-checkin' will come courtesy of Hoops Tavern, where ample doses of humility are served with each bull's-eye that's nailed by the darts experts who frequent the joint. Don't fret. After your pride is torn to shreds, build it back up with America's favorite remedy: alcohol, which Hoops has to the nines.

(Hoops Tavern, 47 W. Amelia St., Orlando; 407-843-5618)

Powdery white sand. Room to spread out. No crowds. Palm trees. Ah yes, the beach. Here's one you've never heard of, and it's closer to Orlando than Cocoa, in Seminole County. You can even drive on it (but unless you have four-wheel drive, you'll probably get stuck). It's the beach at the end of Lake Harney Road, on Lake Harney near Geneva. You were expecting the ocean? This 6,268-acre body of water was named after 2nd Lt. William Selby Harney, who fought in the 1st United States Infantry during the First Seminole War (1817-1818). As legend goes, Harney and his men camped on the scenic spot, only to have a band of Seminoles make a sneak attack in the dark of night. When one warrior sliced through Harney's tent, the officer had nowhere to run but out into the water, which saved his life.

(From State Road 46, midway between Sanford and Mims, take a left on North Jungle Road until it intersects with Lake Harney Road. Turn right and keep driving until you reach the water or get stuck.)

Work out in the dark

Like to go all vamp while you pump up? At World Gym on Semoran, the giant workout area is drenched in the perfect midnight-black hue, a lighting effect accomplished by having only a quarter of the overhead lights on. If you want that dungeon feel where you can work up a sweat or stumble stomach-first into a barbell, this is the gym for you.

(World Gym, 1900 S. Semoran Blvd., Orlando; 407-249-5506; www.wgorl.com)

Straight shooter

Giddyup, partner. Want to play with guns? Want to hear the crack of a rifle in your hands and obliterate everything in sight? Here's a chance to employ real cowboy diplomacy: Pro Bass Shops Outdoor World at Festival Bay is equipped with a fancy arcade-style shooting range. So what if it's all plastic and laser beams — tell that to the mechanical skunk you just dropped. Go ahead, ring that bell, make that bucket spin and the piano play by itself. If that doesn't do it for you, pretend you're aiming at that mean boss or unforgivable sexual partner. Just keep pumping in those quarters. The satisfaction is endless.

(Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World, 5156 International Drive, Orlando; 407-563-5200; www.basspro.com)

Dog park horror

It's a dark scenario: Excited barks and playful yelps turn into shrieks of terror, when, Amity Island-like, the pooch-friendly environs of Fleet Peeples Park are transformed into a brunch buffet for Lake Baldwin's increasingly agitated alligator population. Imagine bloody canine carcasses littering the shore and children weeping — at least those who haven't been eaten — while the SUV-driving, dog-loving masses who flood the best dog park in town flee in terror. For now, there's a mere warning sign that gators have been spotted. Though one 6-foot-long beast was pulled out of the lake in May, does that lessen the danger? Absolutely not! You should always live in fear, especially if it prevents you from playing outside with your companion animal. Be afraid.

(Fleet Peeples Park, 2000 S. Lakemont Ave., Winter Park; 407-599-3399; www.ffpp.org)

Crowded or popular? It's all in how you look at this highly utilized golf course that doesn't charge outrageous fees or limit access to members. Set in the middle of the family-oriented Winter Park Pines neighborhood, the 40-plus-years-old Winter Pines Golf Course appeals to democratic duffers who practice fairness on the fairway. The 18-hole, par 67, Lloyd Clifton—designed course is a beautiful, well-maintained public facility with reasonable fees. It challenges proficient players yet sports an atmosphere that doesn't intimidate novices. It's a sign of true civilization.

(Winter Pines Golf Course, 950 S. Ranger Blvd., Winter Park; $14.50-$24.50; 407-671-3172)

Dock it

Pretend it's a beautiful day and you're cruising out on Lake Dora in your yacht. Now it's time to stop at Mount Dora for a sandwich and a stroll, but it seems like the city's docks are always full. Don't fret; you'll find beautiful, clean, new floating concrete docks to tie up at nearby at Grantham Point — each one 5 feet wide and 240 feet in length, offering moorage for 50 boats — thanks to a renovation project finished up in 2004. Spot the lighthouse on the eastern shore of Lake Dora and these fine docks will be to your right. They're free, and so is the adjacent boat ramp. It's a short walk up the hill to the quaint streets of Mount Dora.

(Grantham Point, at the end of Liberty Avenue south of Tremain Street, Mount Dora)

Fun, fun, fun. So you think you're Jeff Gordon? Get out there and prove it on the go-kart tracks at Fun Spot Action Park. Feel your face freeze with glee as you climb the towering, twisting incline and descend its slopes of doom. Mom and dad can ride the Ferris wheel while you race past that pesky brother or sister who's always telling you what to do. Bump the back of their car just right, and you might spin them and whoops!, there's no reverse, so they'll be stuck.

(Fun Spot Action Park, 5551 Del Verde Way, Orlando; 407-363-3867; www.fun-spot.com)

Need a break from strip malls and traffic? The Econlockhatchee River is the ideal spot for soothing travel back to simpler times. Get out of your car, take a short hike and suddenly you're in the Florida that grandma and grandpa used to natter on about. The Econ is equipped with white-sand banks, lazy, tea-colored water and umpteen places to picnic or camp — there are even rope swings hanging from mossy old oak trees! It's like Disney's version of Old Florida, except it's fun and it's free. The river has many entry points, but a fail-safe favorite is the area where the Econ runs under Snow Hill Road, north of Chuluota.

(www.dep.state.fl.us/gwt/guide/regions/ eastcentral/trails/econlockhatchee.htm)

Who doesn't want to live on the beach like some millionaire condo dweller? Camp at Gamble Rogers Memorial State Recreation Area and be lulled to sleep by the ocean's waves for just $23 a day! It's named after the famous Florida folk singer who died there in 1991 while trying to save a drowning Canadian tourist, so the mojo's good, too. And the first weekend of May, St. Augustine hosts the Gamble Rogers Folk Festival to honor the musical traditions of the Florida troubadour.

(Gamble Rogers Memorial State Recreation Area, 3100 South A1A, Flagler Beach; 386-517-2086; www.floridastateparks.org/gamblerogers)