Author: Brett

Another family holiday, another profound adventure with The Gay Uncle’s excellent Brother-In-Law, Marty. You may remember the M-Man from previous escapades wherein he tried to capture a prairie dog, got into a fight with an iguana, or attempted to lure a wild donkey into the Atlantic Ocean with apples so his young daughters could ride on it. Well, during a walk in the park down in North Carolina yesterday, Marty found another yet unexplored untamed species with with to taunt his tweenage daughters and niece: a snake! Not that the girls seemed to mind all that much. This flipped a switch in the infamous B-I-L. “Sniff it,” he ordered the girls, bringing the writhing reptile up to the young ladies’ noses. “When they get scared they release a stinky musky scent.” Failing to elicit shrieks or howls, or enhanced interest, he took another tactic. He held the little serpent above the snapping mouth of niece Violet’s yapping, fat Corgi. “Marty,” wise, vegetarian, older sister (in-law) Lizzie said with mocking patience, “please do not let the dog eat that defenseless animal.”

What does the Gay Uncle have to be thankful for? Three makeovers on this week’s GLEE. And his ongoing opportunity to write about it online for Vanity Fair. He is truly blessed.

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How do you embarrass a tweenage niece? It’s easy: simply do or say anything, and the girl will immediately become rigid with shame. It’s even easier if you’re the Gay Uncle, as this affords you the possibility of…performing in ways that draw just the kind of outre attention over which pre-teens achieve mortification. For example: flouncing down the street, making snide sotto voce comments about the outfits worn by out-of-shape tourists, trying on ridiculous accessories in the epicenter of all that is cheap garbagey and Chinese-made Claire’s, or insisting on wearing one of these items–a black velvet headband onto which a tiny black velvet top-hat had been affixed, for the rest of the afternoon (even in Starbucks, where there might be “people who know me”). But apparently the best means for discomfiting a ten year old female relative is to cave in to her most pressing desire and agree to take her to see her second screening (in as many days) of the world’s most inane teenage vampire franchise, and then spend the entire film loudly whispering and pointing out which of the characters is HOT, and why or why not. Gunc highly recommends this activity. It’s very satisfying on multiple levels.

The Gay Uncle’s seven tween nieces are all obsessed with a recent movie–and no, I’m not talking about Lars VonTrier’s Antichrist. It’s that one with the chaste bloodsuckers. Anyway, he was down visiting of these girls, 10.5 year-old Amber, the day the movie opened, where he learned about a cute little trick the girl’s mother–Gunc’s sister Roxy–had just played (and which you might want to try at home). While Amber was in the bathroom getting ready for the screening, Roxy told her that she’d seen the girl’s #1 heartthrob, Rob Pattinson, on the Letterman show the night before. “He revealed some very interesting information,” Rox shouted through the door. “What was it?” Amber answered, interest piqued to fissile levels. Roxy paused, for dramatic effect. “He’s gay!” Amber, having grown up with the G.U. as one of her guiding mentors, didn’t stamp her foot or attempt to argue or reject this argument on Biblical grounds, she simply put down her brush, sighed once, and said, “I knew it!”

Roxy admitted that this was all a joke. But Gunc can’t help but wonder: what was her clue?

New episode of GLEE; new Fun & Faggy GLEE-cap from everyone’s favorite Gay Uncle.

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Looking for even MORE of a Twilight: New Moon fix? More specifically, looking for one that has a trio of sexy topless cars matched up to a trio of sexy topless dudes from the movie? Then look no further. Click on over to the Gay Uncle’s alter-ego, Stick Shift, Vanity Fair’s gay car column, for a heap of hunk.

Here’s the link.

This week, over at the home of all that is logical and maternal, The Gay Uncle takes apart a new study that suggests Phthalates turn boys into sissies (and questions what the hell is wrong with sissies in the first place.)

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In the Gay Uncle’s new role as Vanity Fair’s online “Fun and Faggy Editor”, he’ll be writing a weekly recap on his second-favorite TV show, GLEE. Here’s the first one, on this Wednesday’s episode, “Wheels”.

The kids at a Chicago middle school thought they were just engaging in goofy and ritual adolescent hi-jinks–like their peers in Animal House, Fame, or High School Musical–by starting a food fight in the lunchroom last week. But school security forces didn’t find their little game at all cute or amusing, and as the melee escalated, they called for backup. The result: twenty five tweeners were hauled off by the Chicago Police Department, handcuffed, thrown into a paddy wagon, and brought downtown to central booking where they were printed, photographed, and, as the New York Times reports, “treated like real criminals”.

Now the Gay Uncle is all for this kind of down-the-line, law-and-order implementation of firm-handed justice when it comes to actual transgressions like a six year-old bringing a folding silverware set to school. But throwing food? This is not a criminal offense. Wasteful? Yes. Of dubious nutritional value? Certainly. Cliché? Totally. Jail? Not so much. Instead of prison, the Gay Uncle recommends that the mischievous little boogers be asked to do all of the following:
1) Complete a caloric analysis of the food wasted versus energy expended in throwing it
2) Use the tossed food to cook a creative and nourishing meal for the real prison population
(extra credit: spoon feeding it to prisoners)
3) Clean up the cafeteria

Perhaps you have other suggestions on how to punish these hooligans? Have at it in “COMMENTS” below.

In his research on Ford Motor Company’s new, Yii-P! integrated rear-seat childrens’ entertainment technology (see this post), the Gay Uncle came across many and varied forms of piñatas. Piñatas shaped like meatballs, feet, cats, and Darth Vader. Piñatas shaped like devils, horses, donkeys, and unicorns. Even people dressed up like piñatas, which triggered in him an overwhelming desire to seek them out, hang them from the rafters of a dingy basement, and have a bunch of blindfolded children beat them with a broom handle until their insides poured out. But he found only one piñata shaped like a big ass.