Last night's hangover in dire need of a cure? Head to 660 at the Angler's Resort for brunch and choose the bottomless bloody mary bar. The red spicy concoctions are served from a rolling cart, where an attendant dispenses house-made bloody marys. The cart is stocked with clam juice, chianti-cured salami, cornichons, caper berries, celery, queen olives, and house-made fennel salt. Choose what you'd like, and the attendant will mix your cocktail — ahem, cocktails — the way you like. Really, where else does $14 get you an endless supply of good bloody marys on South Beach? Anyone? We thought so. Just don't forget to have some food with that libation. The bottomless bloody mary bar is offered Saturday and Sunday from 11 a.m. and 5 p.m.

Caffeine and alcohol can make you feel like Superman's boozy brother: tossed off the sauce but still invincible. Which is why some folks in Utah have pushed to have the concoction banned. Thank God Miami isn't one of those wimpy places. If it were, we might not have the café con leche martini, a $10 creation that tastes like it was invented by a barista witch-doctor genius. Found only at Wynwood's Cafeina (as far as we know), the cocktail consists of coffee-infused vodka, Amaraula South African cream liqueur, and crème de cacao, topped with ground cinnamon and three espresso beans. It's served in a martini glass by a knowledgeable but unpretentious bartender. And don't worry — there's not enough espresso in the thing to keep you up all night, like that time at the cabin when you drank four Irish coffees, took off all of your clothes, and shouted, "I'm the queen of the world!" Or maybe that was just us.

Summer in Miami pretty much spells out one thing: B-E-A-C-H. And for most people, the turquoise waters, half-naked bronze bodies, and holy-crap heat are the reason to stay in the Magic City from June through September. But for those of us who don't really like sweat invading every inch of our body while baking in a 350-degree oven known as July, there is an affordable, cool, and tasty alternative. It's Miami Spice restaurant month! Eager for a fine-dining experience but not sure if you can afford eating out at one of Miami's finest restaurants? Let Miami Spice come to the rescue. During August and September, Miami's top restaurants offer three-course meals (lunch $22, dinner $35) featuring signature dishes created by world-renowned chefs. Some of the participating restaurants include Vida at the Fontainebleau Miami Beach, Smith & Wollensky, Red Fish Grill, and Bizcaya at the Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove. Foodies and those looking to stuff their faces with ridiculously expensive cuisine for the first time, discover the diverse fusion of ingredients that makes Miami dining so wonderful and unique. It'll leave you screaming, "Caliente!"

If you wanna listen to the certified medical professionals, booze isn't a reliable preventative or cure-all for ailments such as the common cold, seasonal flu, or imminent plague à la H1N1. They say it kills your liver, sends you into deep dehydration, and numbs you to the actual symptoms of your illness. But we call bullshit. Really, what the hell do those quacks know? As habitual heavy drinkers, we've done the research and we can testify to the magical medicinal effects of alcohol. Take Mercadito's $8 el pirata, whose five active ingredients chase away the flu. First, the El Jimador Blanco tequila pickles your body's sick cells. Second, the pineapple juice replenishes much-depleted vitamin C and natural sugar supplies. Third, a heavy dash of house spices kicks dormant salivary glands back into action, flooding your dried-out mouth and throat with natural lubricants. Fourth, hot jalapeño peppers spike the snot from your sinuses. And finally, there's that dose of beer, wrapping your brain in a beautiful booze hug, dulling the senses and bringing sweet drunk relief. Cazart! You are cured!

It's 4:40 p.m. You have refused to do any work during the last half-hour of your day. You peruse Facebook, juggle your phone, and glance around hoping the big boss exits a few minutes early. The clock ticks slower than a bureaucratic dweeb. Awaiting you at 5 o'clock is your sweet reward: happy hour. There are few things sweeter than cheap drinks after a long day. Consider $2 domestic drafts, $3 imports, and $3 wells. This is a place where top-shelf prices top off at $5 for things such as the elusive Black Label and the loosening Goose. Here the bartender engages in sports-related conversation and strangers aren't creepy. You'll get it all at Jada Coles, where such delight is at your fingertips Monday through Friday from 4 to 7 p.m.

Mention Miami to a connoisseur of fine adult beverages and an array of exotic specialties spring to mind: minty mojitos expertly ground with mortar and pestle; tangy caipirinhas flush with fresh cachaça; golden Puerto Rican rum on the rocks. But one American staple has never quite made the local list: good, old-fashioned suds. Give a Miamian a Budweiser or a Presidente to tide him over between rum punches and he'd probably be happy. But those times, they are a-changin'. Gourmet burger and beer joints such as B&B and 8 oz. are popping up all over South Beach with dozens of specialty brews on tap from both coasts. In downtown Miami, the Democratic Republic of Beer brings an ever-shifting menu of 400 beers from around the world, from Argentina's Otro Mundo to Vietnam's 33 Export. Longtime specialty-beer purveyors such as Zeke's, the Abbey, and Abraxis are packed night after night. And New Times' own celebration of all things cerveza, Brew at the Zoo, sold out as thousands of people sampled a few dozen brews imported from Colorado, New England, and Coral Gables' Titanic Brewery. No one will mistake Miami for Milwaukee, but beer guzzlers — at last — aren't second-class drinkers in the Magic City.

When you think South Beach, sports bar might not be the first type of watering hole that comes to mind. But if Frankie's South Beach Hide-a-Way owner Frankie Faria (who also owns a long-standing Doral location) has anything to say about it, that will change. Sports bar prereqs, such as a bevy of HDTV sets, are present and accounted for, and there's even a center-stage cage in case you want to be incarcerated. Low booze prices — like $3 for PBR, Bud Select, and Frankie's own No Crying Ale — might just get you there. And food is a real standout. "Amazing wings" are just that — slow-roasted and then char-grilled and only $8.95 for ten or $16.95 for 20. Addictive sliders come in burger, chicken, fish, and meatball varieties for $3.95 a pair, $5.95 for four, or $8.95 for six. And $9.95 gets you decadent seafood nachos — crustacean-packed fried won tons (not tortillas) covered in piping-hot cheese sauce.

Do you love beer? Then join the Democratic Republic of Beer. Natty Ice swillers need not apply. But if indeed you fancy yourself a connoisseur of finer suds, it's absolutely crucial you expatriate at once. The beer menu is deep at 400 brews in house at any given time. And the menu is updated weekly, offering frequent surprises. Perusing the substantial, geographically organized bill of fare, one is easily overcome. But slow, good traveler. This is a marathon, not a race. Sample the wallop-packing Delirium Tremens from Belgium ($11, 8.5 percent alcohol), or England's Old Speckled Hen ($5). There are German brands you've never even heard of. Or if you're craving American micros, go nuts. It's all here, from varieties of Dogfish Head, Abita, Flying Dog, Kona, and Lost Coast to Left Hand Stout, Shipyard's brews, and every Sam Adams and Rogue you can think of. The options are dizzying! Literally.

Pop quiz. Yard House is totally bad-ass because:A. you met Yard House, and he is a very naughty donkey. B. the draft beer selection includes Stone IPA, Abita Purple Haze, Old Speckled Hen, Magic Hat, Spaten Optimator, Rogue's Shakespeare Stout, Arrogant Bastard, Erdinger, Delirium Tremens, Pumpkinhead, plus 99 others (not bottles, nor on the walls) on tap.C. it has half-price happy hours: Every Monday through Wednesday from 3 to 6 p.m. and Sunday through Wednesday from 10 p.m. to close, you can stick up a pinkie with pride while sucking down a pint (or goblet) of brew for just $3.50 to $5. And yes, there are two happy hours Monday through Wednesday! D. it offers a beer sampler. It comes with six revolving five-ounce beer shots for $8.95. Selections change every Tuesday. E. it has beer blends and floats. Sure, most snobs think black-and-tans (Bass Ale and Guinness Stout) are blasphemy, but apparently they haven't tried a black velvet (Woodchuck Pear Cider and Guinness Stout), a rose garden (Hoegaarden and Lindeman's), or a Young's Chocolate Stout float served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. F. All of the above, with the exception of A.Supersecret answer: F

During one of Germany's numerous bloody battles, an officer, hoping to boost the morale of his troops, announced that if they kicked the enemy's ass, he'd drink beer out of his boot. His troops soon emerged victorious, the battlefield lined with carcasses. While the dying enemy choked out its last breath, the officer raised his boot, filled it to the sweaty brim with beer, and drank as his men cheered. Germans still drink from boots — they're really two-liter Stiefel glasses — in a sort of hazing drinking game that tests the resilience of livers. One of the best places to play Pass the Stiefel is the Royal Bavarian Schnitzel Haus, nestled between Little Haiti and the 79th Street Causeway. This isn't a tourist trap with beer wenches in braids who hand out plump pretzels and Heinekens. It's a deliciously kitschy Bavarian restaurant, complete with pungent cabbage dishes and premium German beers on tap. Order one of the oldest German black beers, Köstritzer Schwarzbier, brewed in Deutschland since 1543, or one of the best-selling drafts in Germany, Bitburger Pils. The wheaty Falkensteiner Hefe gets better as it warms, and the Paulaner Märzen will make your Oktoberfest celebration much more authentic. But spill beer from the Stiefel and suffer a public embarrassment of your cohorts' choosing. So unless you don't mind wearing your underwear as outerwear, perhaps it's best you stick to the Schnitzel Haus's more manageable .05-liter Steins. Prost, damit de Gurgel net verrost. (Cheers, so that your throat won't rust.)