Sh*t Uncle Paul Says

On just his dad’s side, Frank has 7 aunts and uncles. The one that I always heard the most about was Uncle Paul. “He’s the gay one,” Frank would say with a reminiscent smirk as he recalled childhood week-long visits with him in San Francisco.

I finally got the chance to meet Paul the weekend of Frank’s grandfather’s funeral.

Before the service, the family met up at Ma’dea’s (Frank’s grandmother’s) house so that we could arrive at the church together. Of the forty or so people milling around the yard, I knew who Paul was the moment I laid eyes on him. He wore black palazzo pants and a black, shoulder-padded blazer a la Milli-Vanilli . He accessorized with a huge straw sunhat (think Sunday church lady) and was dripping with diamonds.

“Oh! Lil’ Frank! I haven’t seen you in years, daaaahling. Ain’t you just as handsome and manly as evah? Lookin’ all cahYOOT in your suit.” He spoke with a tempo so rapid that I practically had to read his glossed lips to keep up with what he was saying. And you,” he said as he swirled to me,” are just the cutest lil’ wifey for my Lil’ Frank.”

Paul looked around at everyone exchanging greetings. He heaved a dramatic sigh and lit a cigarette. “Come on, let’s get this funeral on the road. I have compassion, but I don’t have patience.” Then he gave two snaps up and a little “mmmhmmm” neck roll.

I liked him instantly.

Later at the repast, he had changed into a dashiki and was drinking his beer from a wine goblet. Uncle Paul kept me entertained.

BEHOLD: shit Uncle Paul said —

Frank: You going to Dad’s house when you leave here?

Paul: Mmmhmm. Imma find two boyfriends on the way and bring them, too. How’d that song go? If one of them starts acting up, then I’ll take his friend.

Paul: What’s going on at your Dad’s house tonight?

Frank: Dad’s grilling. We’re going to watch the game.

Paul: You mean basketball? (whines) Why can’t we watch Lifetiiiime?

Me: I’ll watch Lifetime with you.

Paul: OK good, girlfriend. A woman, a gay man, and Lifetime is all we need.

Paul: (pouting) I’m the youngest, and honey, I’m older than dirt and still I get no respect.

Me: They still treat you like a baby, don’t they?

Paul: You are SO feelin’ me, girl. But wait ’til I get my sex change; Imma come back here and fuck ’em all up.

Paul: I just LOVE being the only gay man in the family.

Me: Why’s that?

Paul: ‘Cause there’s only room for one drag queen to be this fabulous.

Paul: You know what my drag name is?

Me: I just love drag queens. What’s your name?

Paul: (sweeps his non-existent hair from his shoulder and snaps) It’s “Sweet Pussy Pauline.”


I think he needs to run a confidence clinic for Club Awkward.

Tell me about your most eccentric or funniest family member.

33 thoughts on “Sh*t Uncle Paul Says”

  1. Ditto what Justine said! I think I caught a few of your tweets when you were there and was cracking up! Uncle Paul sounds and looks so entertaining. I also got a kick out of Frank’s expressions in the photos of him w/ Paul! Thank you for sharing! 🙂 I still intend to get to your Emotional Infertility/Tribe intro posts, but know they are deep and my brain is friend tonight. This post about Uncle Paul and the stuff he says was the comic relief that I needed! Thanks for sharing! xoxo

    1. You’re lucky to get a word in edgewise with Paul. But that’s okay, because usually I was too busy laughing to be concerned about speaking!

  2. Oh Lord! “I have compassion, but I don’t have patience” That is the best!!!!

    We are all eccentric in our own ways in our family. My dad’s oldest sister was an artist, a world traveller, and a very engaged Catholic, who would instruct the priest in her church on how things should be run. My dad’s next oldest sister was hilariously passive aggressive every once in a while – but only to her older sister. She was also a traveller – she worked for United and would fly to Boston for lunch if the mood would strike her. My mom’s sisters are hilarious in their own right. My mom is funny, if you can put her in context. However, my most eccentric family member is my best friend. She has the mouth of a sailor, she can drink like a fish, she plays football and softball, and yet is totally girly. I find her to be endlessly amusing…and the best I can do is send her the random ramblings of my mind via text message. She enjoys it.

    We could use an Uncle Paul, though!

  3. Oh man… I wish we had an Uncle Frank.

    I do, however, have an Uncle Ger. He’s quite possibly the most intelligent human being I have ever met. He went to school to be a pastor, but has a debilitating fear of speaking in public. He can expound for hours on philosophy and theology, all the while using a Homer Simpson voice. He spend an entire day in what he calls ‘gimp-dad’ mode, simply to embarass my cousins, and then lead a small group Bible study on understanding the trinity. He’s nuts… and we love him to death.

  4. Uncle Paul would be right at home in my neighborhood!

    Sadly, all my really colorful relatives have passed away. They were more of the whiskey-swilling cowpoke types. I do have one uncle who thinks he’s a cowboy. Well, he does chase cattle around on his very expensive cutting horses while wearing $500 Italian cowboy boots and $400 beaver-felt Stetsons. But that’s mostly because he has lots of time off from his job as the bass player from in the Portland Symphony.

    1. I need to move to wherever you are.

      I read the description of your uncle and all I could think of was “City Slickers.”

      “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, keep them dogies rollin’, man my ass is swollen, Rawhide! Get ’em up, move ’em out, wake ’em up, get ’em dressed, get ’em shaved, comb their hair, Rawhide! Tie me down, tell me lies, pull my hair, smack my thighs – with a big wet strap of, Rawhide!”

  5. LOL…he is so colourful!

    I have pretty interesting people in my family, and I would majorly chalk up my aunts in that category. Atleast, my eldest aunt is a piece of work. Her hubby really takes the husband of the century award from me…and yet they are, as a couple, going strong….Amazing people.

    My other aunt? I draw a lot of things in my personality from her…I have a natural affinity for her.

    1. Hmm…your comment made me think about which of my aunts and uncles I most closely identify with. I can’t tell whether it’s a good or bad thing that I feel like I don’t know enough about any of them to be able to make that determination. :/

  6. Eccentric??? What are you talking about??? I drink my beer with stemware AND I have been known to wear a floor-length kaftan with a floppy rawhide John Denver tribute hat!!! Uncle Paul isn’t “eccentric”, he simply knows (like I do) what’s good. And he clearly does not give a damn, as he shouldn’t, because: it’s Uncle Paul’s world, and everyone else is a squirrel, trying to get a nut!

    The Defense rests its case.

    1. What I love most about Uncle Paul is that he is who is and is totally comfortable with it, or at least he appears to be. And yes – he is stylish because he drinks his beer in fancy glasses. I’m a squirrel in his world trying to get a…no. Not HIS nuts. I’ll take walnuts. Not Uncle Paul’s nuts.

  7. I need me some of Uncle Paul’s confidence.

    For the record, it’s a “chalice”, not a glass or goblet. At least, according to the Stella Artois commercial that I’ve been bombarded with daily via the internet.

    1. I haven’t seen that commercial. I’ll have to see if I can find it. Or maybe not — it sounds like of of those things that annoys you once you see it.

  8. Uncle Paul sounds RAD. Love the comment about wanting to watch Lifetime when everyone else is watching some game. Uncle Paul, I’d watch Lifetime with you anytime.

  9. Woow!!! wonderful Uncle Paul is really fabulous. It make remember one of my maternal uncle who always used to make us laugh and tease us that truly made us happy. Missing those beautiful moments. 🙁

  10. He sounds like loads of fun.

    There is nobody that entertaining in my family. If anything I was the rebellious one – well me and an older cousin, so it was us that got talked about.
    And even we are older and boring now.

  11. Cousin Juan. He was the first gay man I ever met, wore tight, black leather pants year round. Every time he came in the house he proclaimed (always in third person), “Hi, babies, be right back, Juan has to tee-tee.” And then he’d tip his 6’4″ 275 pound body up the stairs. And please know that by tip I mean he was so light on his feet you’d never hear him coming. To this day, my sisters and I, when together and need to use the restroom, have to tee-tee.

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