I”ve strenuously avoided cold weather sports throughout my life. This is because a) my already inadequate coordination is hugely diminished by the addition of snow or ice; b) the requisite frosty temperatures force the athletes to completely cover their bodies, curbing any interest I may have in spectating; and c) I”ve always more enjoyed the aprés portion of these kinds of games: sweaters, lodges, fireplaces, whiskey, mountainous piles of luxurious down comforters, cuddling. Still, it was hardly possible to ignore the Olympics these past few weeks (believe me, I tried.) And when forced to confront these arctic activities, I naturally found myself gravitating more toward some over others. Now that the games are finally over, check out this Post Game/Top Ten Hotness ranking of the sports featured this year in Vancouver.
10. Curling: About as sexy as watching Jackie Gleason bowl.
9. Freestyle Skiing: My mother got me this sleeping bag in 1976, but I never wore it in public, let alone as the world watched.
8. Luge: A Disneyworld Extreme Edition ride, not a sport. One of the few instances in which an athlete lying prone is not at all sexy.
7. Speed Skating: Muscular and aerodynamic, but in an unnerving Berlin Olympiad/Fascist sculpture kind of way.
6. Bobsled: Four hunky men have to squeeze into this thing. Don”t tell me they”re not touching each other.
5. Snowboarding: Borderline cute, but way too Mountain Duuude (long hair, beer, and pot titties.)
4. Hockey: The constant, frissive possibility that I might get to witness a bloody beat-down. (Bonus: many players are missing their front teeth.)
3. Figure Skating: It”s not at all sexy, but, gurrrl, you cannot deny the H-O-T-T-ness.
2. Ski Jump: Tall, skinny, spread-eagle, and soaring high above me. The stuff of dreams.
1. Biathlon: Any sport that combines buff shrink-wrapped dudes, long poles, and shooting automatically wins.
The NYC Board of Education’s Panel For Educational Policy finally voted the other night on its controversial bake sale policy. The rule was created to ban homemade goods like cookies and cupcakes and pot brownies from being offered at school bake sales, while allowing store-bought items like Pop-Tarts and Doritos to be sold with impunity. The Gay Uncle already covered this issue once
The Gay Uncle has never been able to figure out exactly what about.com is. But someone over there seems to like him. Witness this piece “You’re in Good Hands with the Gay Uncle” that is–sort of–about him. 
A new University-based, Canadian study conclusively proves the evolutionary value of Gay Uncles! Gunc barely resists telling the world, “Told you so.” 
I spend a week drinking and parading my way through my adopted city, and discover that everything that sucks about Mardi Gras is just the flip side of something that’s great about Mardi Gras, sort of like life itself. 
Toyota’s a-cappella singing sensation returns to chant a protective spell over the 2011 Avalon (and I offer to write them a song.)
Just in time for Valentine’s day, The Gay Uncle brings you this gorgeous photo essay. It’s a piece Gunc did for Babble in which he interviewed 2-6 year-old kids about love. Shot on location in frigid wintry Tompkins Square Park, in Manhattan’s East Village, by the talented Lauren DeLuca. 
Find out when your boob-juice crosses the line from milkshake to Kahlua-and-Cream: The Gay Uncle’s Valentine’s Day ode to the Milkscreen Home Breast Milk Alcohol Test, in today’s Chicago Tribune. 
Just what you wanted to cap off your Friday: several minutes of me talking–in my inimitable and infectious way–to Detroit Public Radio about the meaning of LUXURY, while seated in the back seat of a $300,000 Bentley Mulsanne. All this while unemployment in the city hits record highs, and people sleep on the snowy streets right outside. Talk about sensitive! 
Last night, the Gay Uncle attended the New Orleans Saints’ victory parade. He was fortunate enough to snag a stellar viewing spot on a friend’s balcony. And when the team’s quarterback, the amazing Breesus (blessed be he) passed by, Gunc was there with a video camera to capture the insanity. You can read his deconstruction of the parade, and