Category: General & Random

In case you missed the series of exciting posts by The Gay Uncle’s alter ego–author of Vanity Fair’s online automotive column Stick Shift–during the North American International Auto Show in Detroit, here’s a link where you can get all of them in one place. You will never look at cars the same way again. Click and be converted.

The Gay Uncle receives many requests–from makers of worthless kids products, from self-published children’s book authors, from insane people with “ideas” about how to change the world in three simple steps–asking if they can feature their wares here, on this, one of the most influential parenting websites in the blogoverse. But every so often, he gets something from someone he actually knows, and decides to allow cronyism to rule. This casting call below is from someone with whom he used to work, and it’s legit. If you think your family is fucked up enough to have their own reality program, or you know someone whose is, get in touch with my pal Ani. ani@iconiccasting.com

NOW CASTING FABULOUS, OUTRAGEOUS AND FUNNY FAMILIES FOR A NEW DOCUSERIES, “MY FAMILY”¯. MAJOR CABLE NETWORK is searching for a large, extended and multi-generational family to be the stars of their own comedy reality show. We”re looking for funny families that REDEFINE THE TRADITIONAL and BREAK THE MOLD of your typical ……ho-hum American household. This show will document their lives and explore the family”s complexity while witnessing the craziness, chaos and love that makes their family special. If your family puts the FUN in dysFUNctional, then this is the show for you!!! Tell us about you and your family. The good, the bad and the ugly.

EMAIL ALL INFO TO ANI@ICONICCASTING.COM
All Family Names, ages and occupations.
A brief bio about your immediate and extended family.
Include a family photo(s).
Contact Phone numbers for the main contact in each family.

In his role as Vanity Fair’s online Fun&Faggy editor, the Gay Uncle looks at his second-favorite show, GLEE, and its success at the Golden Globes, and offers a few pointers for how the program can not spiral into sophomore or sophomoric slumpdom. Check it out.

This week, in his MOMLOGIC column, the Gay Uncle muses on how those little (and big) bruises your child is always acquiring might make you look when you’re yelling at them in the grocery store, and wonders if you have ever been in a situation in which you’ve been thusly misinterpreted. Check it out.

The Gay Uncle’s sister Roxy is pregnant again, and she’s faced with a curious dilemma. Her husband’s father recently passed away and they want to give the child a name that will honor his memory. Though he was a senior officer in the military, they’ve ruled out Lieutenant, Captain, General and Jointchiefsofstaff. But given that the recently deceased grandfather’s name was George, they’re considering something related to this. The real issue is, the kid is going to be a girl. Hubby Nick is thus campaigning for Georgia, but Roxy feels torn about this name. (It’s a hick name, right?) “If we name her Georgia, people are going to make fun of her,” she said on the phone the other day. “People are going to make fun of her no matter what,” Gunc replied. “And by people, I mean, me.” The G.U. suggested they find another name in the G family. But in putting their heads together, the world’s #1 Guncle and his #1 sis failed to come up with a single viable soft g-sound option. Gina, Gena, Gene, Genesis, Genet, Giovanna, Gesine, Gianna, Gigi, Gypsy, Gyzzmo. They all suck.

So, he’s reaching out to you, his dear readers, to help out. Any suggestions?

The Gay Uncle plays his least favorite role–that of expert–once again in the Chicago Tribune, this time tackling the topic of keeping a five year old from peeing during the night. Or, more specifically, teaching a mother how not to encourage her five year old to pee during the night. Don’t worry, this keen bed wetting alarm (pictured to the left) is NOT involved.

Check it out here.

Should this be the Stick Shift 2.0 icon? Looks a bit like a salad toss. (Or something…lesbian.) What’s it look like to you?

[Photo Credit: The Car Lounge/Jalopnik]

The Gay Uncle, in his role as Stick Shift–Vanity Fair’s online car columnist–is heading to his hometown of Detroit on Friday to cover the North American International Auto Show. Expect the usual hard-hitting journalism, exclusive interviews, misheggas, and generally skewed perspective on the industry. But to prepare yourselves for all of this, first check out this amazing video, which explains just about everything you need to know about The D.

This week, in his Momlogic column, the Gay Uncle covers off on what NOT to take on the plane to entertain your young kids.

Check it out.

Here’s a little secret the city of New Orleans has cracked that the Gay Uncle believes may be of use to parents everywhere. It comes from a machine. It is served in a cup. And in the Crescent City, it is readily available at places where moms and dads congregate with their kids: parks, zoos, tourist attractions, and movie theaters showing endless screenings of The Princess and the Frog. It’s called a Daiquiri and it comes in as many flavors as Benjamin Moore paint. (Meaning, it’s rainbowly endowed, but always tastes just about the same.) When visiting the Audubon Animal Wildlife Refuge the other day with his parent friends John and Mary and their baby girl Victor, Gunc and his BF were thrilled to note that a) it was after noon, b) the concession stand was located next to the entrance (because what is a visit to any public space like this besides an excuse to eat junk food) and c) that the second item on the “menu” after hot dog was booze. Thinking it would simply take the edge off, we all ordered a bright red cup of Adult Juice Slushie. Little did we know that, hidden beneath the electric berry hue/taste was some sort of potent moonshine. The G.U. is uncertain if it was brain freeze or grain (as in grain alcohol) freeze that caused his boyfriend to shout, “I can’t see!” after his first chuggle, but he is sure that about a third of the way through the tiny cup, all four adults no longer cared that the elephants were in an enclosure about the size of a Manhattan one bedroom, that the giraffes were fighting, that there was a rusty old bathtub and junked car floating in the “Cajun Country Swamp” exhibit, or that some genius had had the bright idea of locating the pens for the Wild African Dogs and the Antelopes right next to each other separated only by a chain link fence (causing nonstop neurotic border pacing on the part of the canines). As is evident in the photo above, little Victor enjoyed the zoo, regardless.