The Little Game That Could

The fact that I own a Nintendo Wii tells the gaming industry something about the man that is Luke. First, I am willing to sacrifice power, adult-themed titles, a vast online community, and my beloved sports games. What do I value instead? Why, anything starring slightly obese, pornstache-eqipped Italian plumbers, of course!

But in all seriousness, I own a Wii because Nintendo can flat-out produce fun games to play. And counterintuitively, although its online community is lagging far behind Microsoft and even Sony, having a Wii is the best way to get a group of people under one roof suddenly fired up about gaming. There's something to be said for that Wii Remote and its ability to track three dimensional movement. It sucks the casual observer in quite well.

But there's another side to that motion tracking. When one is by oneself and twirling the Wiimote this way and that just to get Link to freaking jab somebody, one starts to feel a bit too bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, if you catch my drift. My stance is that if you're going to implement the motion tracker into a game, then make it creative. I don't want to accomplish mundane tasks over and over again just because developers had to somehow implement the motion tracker. Take Super Mario Galaxy, for example. Great game; probably even the best Mario game ever. But a crucial aspect of progressing is to collect star bits, which is accomplished by aiming the remote at the screen. So here I am, pointing the Wiimote at my TV like I'm Harry effing Potter summoning a Patronus.

Star bits don't collect themselves! Point that remote, Nancy!

The point is, I don't play video games to get a nice buildup of lactic acid in my triceps. If I wanted that, I'd do some Perfect Pushups. I don't need motion tracking in every game that I play. I'd be fine with a good, old-fashioned gaming experience, son. Especially in a sports game. Man, I love sports games. Ever since my 360 tanked and my subsequent hatred of all things Microsoft, I've gone without a sports title to play.

Enter MLB Power Pros 2008! Don't let the kiddish look fool you. This game is a blast to play. The hitting interface is a thing of beauty, simple yet satisfying. There are enough modes to keep busy for months at a time. And there is absolutely no motion tracking! All these features make Power Pros feel like a throwback to games of old. I feel it paying homage to RBI Baseball every time I load it up. It is just fantastic. Take a look at this video from IGN.com. You cannot tell me that you don't want to play this game.

Don't get me wrong, the game has its issues. Most of the problems I have are with the AI. For example, any time there is a runner on 2nd, he will take off on contact regardless of the situation. Ground ball to short with one out? There he goes! Out at 3rd, and I die a little inside. Also, I was recently leading 1-0 in the bottom of the 9th against the Astros. There was a runner on first with one out. Brandon Backe(Houston's starting pitcher) is at the plate. The computer puts in a pinch runner...and then leaves Backe up there to hit. Huh??? Finally, the announcer is a fast-talking psychopath who sacrifices correct pronunciation to keep pace with the action. I have yet to figure out how to silence him.

It definitely isn't perfect, but I don't care. I'm so happy to have a legitimate sports game to play on the Wii that I will gladly overlook the issues. I was ready to sit and wait for Griffey Baseball to hit the Virtual Console. No longer, friends! No longer.

The Poker Diary

My previous post may have been a bit inflammatory toward PokerStars. I really didn't have much documentation on how frequently I've been bent over and violated by the world's largest poker room, so I figure they deserve another chance. A documented chance. So here we go!

I, Nose Knows, am entering an 11 dollar, 180 person turbo no limit texas hold 'em tournament. The top 18 players will be paid, and the winner takes home almost six hundred smackeroos. The "turbo" lingo has a huge effect on how the game is played...blinds go up every 5 minutes, so play is hectic, insane, and idiotic. Let's see how this goes.

6:28 pm I have successfully registered for the tournament. So far, so good.

6:32 Let's shuffle up and laugh at L Tray!

6:32 Seated at my table of 9 include a guy from Argentina, Italy, and two other unrecognizeable, foreign hometowns. How does the internet even work, anyway? What is "the internet?" Can anyone explain it? Ok, I will now put down the bong.

6:34 Each player has an option to choose an image to go along with his or her screen name. Here's mine:

I make it a point to block the image of anyone socially awkward and/or European enough to actually put a picture of themselves as the avatar. I have already blocked 3 images. Humans are infuriating.

6:36 After 4 minutes, there are already 7 people eliminated from the field of 180. 5 of them had either AA or KK cracked.

6:37 I don't like Michael Wilbon outside of PTI.

6:37 And I really don't like Stuart Scott. Ever.

6:37 Apparently I'm a racist.

6:38 AK suited! I raise. Ooooo nice flop, lots of outs.

6:39 Rivered a straight! Winner winner chicken dinner! I started with 1,500 and now I have 2,950. Solid.

6:40 And by the way, some of you might think that because I rivered a straight, I sucked out. The flop had a Q and a T in it along with two diamonds, which meant that a Jack or another diamond would virtually guarantee a victory in the hand. 12 outs with two cards to go is over a 45% chance to hit. I took it and ran with it, son.

6:42 AK again, just knocked a guy out and won 500 more chips. We're at 3,500 now. Already 31 people are out of the tourney.

6:43 Jeff Van Gundy, while ugly, is actually a fantastic basketball commentator. I find his voice pleasing and his analysis of the ins and outs of the game downright scintillating. And strangely, a lot of my peers disagree with me. I haven't talked with one other person who overly enjoys his commentary. The lesson of course, is that you're all idiots.

6:47 My pocket sixes just faced a big raise, and I called.

6:48 That was stupid. Completely my fault. He had 88, and I got mowed down. The chip count is down to 2,400. Meanwhile, blinds are already at 50/100. Gotta make some moves.

6:49 125 people left. 17 minutes and the third of the field is now doing something else. Told you this was nutty.

6:50 Can you believe that the Bulls got the #1 pick in the draft? Unreal. Here's the thing about the #1 pick. If it's not used to take Derrick Rose, I will refuse to acknowledge John Paxson and the 1993 Chicago Bulls. I still have 5 other titles to remember. I don't need that one. Hopefully Johnny Pax knows the importance of drafting a hometown superstar whenever the opportunity arises.

6:53 I have a Nintendo Wii. I bought Wii Fit the other day because I've really been craving some yoga. I loaded it up, gave my height (6'4) and age (24), and the game told me that my BMI is 26% and, at 214 pounds, I am overweight. If this isn't shocking, nothing is. It really speaks to the innovation of the whole "exercise video game" concept. If there were one aspect of society that I would have thought to have been safe from calling me a slob, it would have been the video game industry. Instead, that's the only aspect of society that calls me fat. Also, gas is $4.20 and I love Jeff Van Gundy. What a world.

6:57 In poker news, I'm out of the tournament. With 2,000 chips and AK once again, I raised to 600. I was reraised all in by a guy with 4,000 in chips. He had AQ, and naturally, hit his queen on the flop. So there we have it. It's rigged, and as I suspected, my account is jinxed by a faraway shaman. What a fun half hour.

7:00 Dammit.

Why My Blood Pressure Is High

This just about sums it up. Welcome to PokerStars, where the best hand really has to sweat it out. No, check that.

Welcome to PokerStars, where the best hand gets shit on. Much better.

PS is one of the world's largest poker sites, with nearly 100,000 players logged on every night. With that many hands being dealt, bad beats are going to happen. They just are. But strangely enough, they find Nose Knows (that would be my screen name) more often than other people.

Today, oddly enough, this happened to me again. Like Phil Hellmuth, I went in with the superior hand (80% chance to win every time) and I went out nearly breaking my hand on the arm of my couch due to my Holyfield impression. So, even more like Phil Hellmuth, I complained. Here's a word-for-word email that I wrote to PokerStars support. I have yet to receive a response.

Dear PokerStars servers,

Kindly remove whatever hex you have on my account so I can see some winning hands for once. Up yours. AA rocked by JJ preflop followed by AJ losing to A9 preflop. He had quad nines on that hand, by the way. Yeah, that's realistic. I'm not sure if there's a shaman or some other kind of magic practitioner chanting endlessly whenever I'm logged on, but whatever the case may be, I am done seeing my 80% preflop advantages shit on. THANKS.

Luke Norman Trayser
Crystal Lake, IL

The infuriating thing about these beats in online poker (other than the massive chip hemorrhage) is the balls that are displayed by the people who sucked out on you. Here are some things that have been typed to me after morons have unfairly taken my chips. Insult to injury, you might say.

1. "Nice hand, douchebag!!"
2. "lolololol"
3. "Go kill yourself"
4. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA"
5. "Thanks for the chips"

I'm amazed I haven't broken my computer screen yet. I reeeeeeeeally hate #5. As if it were my decision to hand my precious intangible chips to a player from Scandinavia. This hobby will give me a heart attack sooner rather than later.

Man, I need to start investing.

Just To Make Sure We Don't Take Entertainment For Granted...

...Sex and the City is back! Yayyyyy! For those of you who wondered what it would take to get me to get out of my month-long slump and finally compose something new, all it took was dumbass Sarah Jessica Parker. Way to go, Sarah! I mean Sarah Jessica!

Look at that smile. It could launch a thousand ships...whose intention would be to get as far away from her as possible. If we could be channeled into her brain at the time that this photograph was taken, I'm sure her inner monologue would read something like "BWAHAHAHAHA, I am relevant again! Watch me wear a tree on my head! American girls will instantly crave arboreal hats! I'm married to Matthew Broderick! Look at my shoes! Look at them! Aren't they spectacular? Aren't they just stinky? Oh, by the way, stinky now means 'craveable/awesome.' That's how much power I have! Hopefully all this power doesn't go to my head!"

Zing.

After initially ridiculing her, I started to think that maybe this picture was Photoshopped. No one is this stupid. Right?

What an idiot.

Thanks go to Mary for sending me this picture. I'll be back soon to talk about poker, video games, male superiority, the San Antonio Spurs, and the 2008 World Series Champion Chicago Cubs(whose stadium I still can't stand).

Waterlogged Phones: Who's To Blame?

I was recently informed that yet another broad that I know drunkenly dropped her phone into a toilet, killing it immediately. This makes roughly 150 young ladies that I know who have done this exact same thing in a drunken stupor. I'm not alone here, either. Everyone in the nation knows approximately 150 drunk chicks that have broken their phones by waterlogging them. On a related note, there are roughly 300 million people in the United States. If we do the math, this means that 45 billion drunk chicks have toileted their cell phones in the United States alone. And if that math doesn't make sense to you, then ask yourself: did you represent your middle school in the Math Olympics? Well, L Tray did. Now shut up.

This post was originally intended blast women, but upon further review, I was forced to reconsider. I initially thought that the inferior brainpower of the weaker sex was to blame for so many toileted phones. But perhaps the explanation is a bit more tangible than that. To explain, let's try some role playing.

You're a college girl, out for the night. You are with your friends, determined to have a good time despite the plate of nachos you had before bed last night, which you're convinced added about 8 pounds to your frame. To make up for this lapse in self-control, you punished yourself at the rec center with 6 "Look at my love handles" miles on the treadmill and 400 angry "I'm a fatass whore" crunches. Thus cleansed, you are ready to get your drink on. And I've gotta say, you're looking good. Have you been working out?

Countless guys feed you identical lines, followed by identical drinks. With all those calories you burned from earlier today, the alcohol is hitting you quickly. You need to go to the ladies'. There's a line, but you put the urge to pee out of your head by comparing your legs and boobs to the other girls in line, following the grading sheet that states that big boobs are good, small boobs are bad. Small legs are good, big legs are bad. You realize you are one of the best looking women in line. You decide to reward yourself with a plate of nachos when you get home.

You finally find a stall, and you quickly lock the door and build a nest. You drop your pants, and all of a sudden, you hear a small sploosh. It was tough to hear over the blaring techno and cookie-cutter hip hop that you love oh so dearly, but you definitely heard something solid hit the water. You immediately think that you pooped your pants. Here come the tears. In between spasming, gut-busting sobs, you reach for your phone to call one of your friends for help. The phone is not in your back pocket. But that's where you always put it! Having a rare moment of drunk chick clarity, you look into the toilet bowl, and you see your precious celly, drowned and alone. You cry harder, for every drunk chick knows that pooping herself is small potatoes compared to losing a cell phone.

Now, at first glance, it's easy to blame the drunk lady for this mistake. But look closer. The phone was in the back pocket. This is where the phone needs to go for a young woman who doesn't feel like lugging that annoying clutch around all night(and yes, I know what a clutch is. Someone kill me). The front pockets of womens' pants are not conducive to holding anything bulky, because, come on, it'd look really stupid. And if we also consider the urgency of a drunken piss, a phone in the toilet seems downright expected. Upon eye contact with your stall, it suddenly feels as if an explosion is imminent. Now imagine building a nest beforehand! Wow! I have to take a bathroom break just typing it! So combine the momentum of aggressively yanking down tight jeans with that of sitting down, and bang! Phone in the toilet. As much as I hate to admit it, it makes sense.

So who's to blame? Why, it's those bastards over at the clothing companies! You, sirs, are destroying the phones of America! Not to mention the self-confidence and self-images of our beautiful women! How dare you tell us what does and what doesn't look good on our legs? Who are you to judge? You are all fatasses! How was your Chicken Tendercrisp today, Jiggles? Did you king size it? You most certainly did! It is YOUR fault that our women drop their phones into toilets, and it's YOUR fault that we dress ourselves because of the ideals that you put into our heads!

I'm kidding, of course.

Hey drunk chicks, your fathers called. Stop being idiots. Hang on to your phones.

What Nike and Jordan Have In Common With L Tray and Halo 3

There are a couple commercials that I've seen recently that really hit home. First is a Nike commercial that has athletes such as LT and Matt Holliday telling me that their better's better than my better. Although this slogan really doesn't make a whole lot of sense, I assume that what they're saying is that when they need to push to an extra gear, they leave us normies in the dust.

Before I connect this commercial to my Halo 3 superiority, I must say that I have some problems with it. Let's take a look at its stars. All of them, at best, have taken home prestigious individual awards and forgotten to take championships with them. Oops.





1. Matt Holliday-Josh Beckett's better is better than your better.
2. Steve Nash-Tony Parker's better is better than your better.
3. LaDainian Tomlinson-Manning and Brady's better is better than your better.
4. Hope Solo-You ride pine. Everyone's better is better than your better.
5. Kevin Durant-Every small forward in the NBA's better is better than your better.
6. Numerous Little Kids, Insects, and Women: L Tray's better is better than your better. You are inferior.

Moving on, we also have a new Jordan commercial. This one is kickass.

Past champions coupled with shots of current teams and stars working hard late into the night. This is how you make a commercial. You don't win titles with talent alone. You also need to practice more and to want it more than anyone else. Now, with that being said, behold L Tray in all his Halo 3 glory. The map is Construct, by far the best in the game. Here's Picture #1:

See that crumpled blue body parallel to the floor? That's my corpse. That's TrukeLayser. I can hear all you fools now. "L Tray, you said you were good at Halo!!1 You are obviously garbage! You are a liar!!!!111 lmfao" Shhh. It's okay. Calm down. Go flog your dolphin. Take a closer look at the picture. It says I was killed by Kleeno008. See that red body above mine? See that explosion in the background? That's Kleeno, getting his shit blown up by my posthumous grenade. Halo 3 calls that a "Death From the Grave."

You see, it's always a good idea to fire grenades wildly when you know you're about to bite it. As SNL cast member Jason Sudeikis recently observed on Conan, what the teenagers like to do when they play Halo is to annihilate you, then crouch/stand/crouch/stand over the corpse. They kill you, then hump you. It's really quite degrading. That said, a well-placed grenade effectively obliterates someone who is mid-hump. Very satisfying. And it doesn't seem like much, but that one kill can be the difference between a win and a loss. It's a game of inches. Al Pacino would agree. Here's Picture #2.

Pretty easy to see what's going on here. I have a sword, and I have completely wrecked an unidentified noob. There's not too many feelings greater than the one that comes when idiots turn a corner armed with an assault rifle and a prayer. You can almost hear them poop their pants when they see the sword coming at them. Beautiful. Picture #3:

Here I am smoking Kleeno again. Poor fella. He probably had no right thumb, forcing him to use the right analog stick with his teeth. I lit him up like a suburban front yard during Christmas. Notice the Double Kill medal on the left. My better was better. I practiced more. I wanted it more. The end result was 22 kills out of my team's 50, and only 9 deaths. +13 for the game. And yes, the final score was 50-49. Looks like that grenade early in the game was worth it after all. It's the little things, friends. Happy hunting.

Boy, Was I Misinformed!

So I was at my local music store the other day, looking to make a purchase or three(I always try to support the talentless, greedy hacks that run America's record companies) when I came across an intriguing album cover: Mass Romantic by the New Pornographers. For those of you unfamiliar with the record, here's a photo of it:

Is it hot in here?

I am always very thoughtful before I make a purchase. I'm not an "impulse shopper" by any means. That being said, here's the conversation I had with the store manager. And no, I am not very proud of what transpired.

L Tray: So you're telling me that I can get this obviously fantastic piece of pornography for only $7.99?

Manager, staring at me, horribly confused: If that's what the sticker says, then yes, you absoultely can.

L Tray: That is fantastic! I mean, I'm a huge fan of phone sex, and that can sometimes cost me a couple of dollars a minute, which really adds up. I mean, my stamina is through the roof. Know what I'm saying? I hold my hand up here, asking for a high five.

Manager, still staring at me, now absolutely horrified: No sir, I surely don't.

L Tray: Well, no matter. I can't believe that I'll be getting this for roughly 15 cents a minute! I cannot WAIT to get home and go to town on myself! What about you? Are you familiar with the work of these "New Pornographers?"

Manager: Yes, I am. I think you'll be very surprised.

L Tray: Oh, I don't know about that. I've been around the block, my friend. This is gonna do it for me. Wrap it up, my good sir!

I feel so stupid. Turns out The New Pornographers aren't actually a group of people that have an innovative take on audio pornography, but they're a group of people that play rock music together. And the cd? Yeah, it's good, I guess. "Mass Romantic" is one catchy song, that's for sure. But that isn't what I thought I was buying.

I know I'm embarrassing myself by writing this, but I'm sure that I'm not the first one to be fooled by the band name and album cover. I mean, what would you think? Look at those people! They are most assuredly bumpin' uglies! And that wild herbivore in the background is obviously thinking about joining in. That's some kinky shit! And then the cd starts playing.

Mass romantic fool wears Foster Grants/

His books on tape ring true/

Like everyone wants to say "I love you" to someone on the radio (radio)

How am I supposed to "relieve" my "stress" with lyrics like that? Huh?

Oh, well. At least I still have the album cover.

An Ode To Alcohol

At last, after all this time,

(It felt like a year!)

St. Patrick's Day is finally here!

On paper, the day celebrates all those Irish fools

But let's not kid ourselves: It's all about booze!

We all know the dangers of overindulging

We hear that drinking too much is vile and disgusting.

Well listen up, reverend. Get off your high horse.

I'm about to praise alcohol without care or remorse.

You see, alcohol has its redemptive traits, sis.

What are they, you ask? Why, just look at this list!

It turns fours into sevens, and sevens to nines,

comes in beer, rum, vodka, tequila and wines.

It makes fat people skinny, ugly ones hot,

Gives confidence to introverts in the form of a shot.

It can give meek little ladies the courage to shout,

Or give frat guys the stones to finally make out.

It never discriminates among gender or race,

Yet it won't heisitate to put lushes in place.

Some of alcohol's traits that have women's devotion

Include dulling the senses and heightening emotion.

The weepy can sob, the hoochies put out,

The dancers can flail, and the drama queens pout.

For men, delicious booze also enables;

It enables fist fights and the breaking of tables.

Yes, the rage the drink gives us is awesome indeed,

We shout, spit, and swear; we're just like Rasheed!

Yes, beer is for everyone, great with pizza slices,

And it makes beer bongs and car keys vital devices.

It makes boring days crazy, beer pong games intense

It makes songs more enjoyable, and laughter immense.

So on St. Paddy's Day, let's all raise our glasses

To alcohol, the champion; the kicker of asses.

Oh, and by the way...When I mentioned car keys as a vital drinking device, I was referring to shotgunning a beer. Not driving. Do not drink and drive, you big idiot. Happy St. Patrick's Day.

Worst of the Week

It's been a while since I've written something on this fantastic blog, so I figure a little recap is in order. Two things are on my mind right now:

1. Samwise Gamgee disguised as NY Governor/Ron Howard's Twin/Sex Maniac

Too much has been said about the king of all hobbit hypocrites already, so there's no hope for me to score points for originality. I just have some thoughts based on what I've heard about Eliot Spitzer, former governor of New York.

First of all, congrats on lasting over a year! That's something. It's certainly longer than you lasted anywhere else! OHHHH! I mean, rumor has it you have a strict anti-condom stance when you're SLAMMING PROSTITUTES! Fantastic call, Frodo. Not only do you give your wife the gift of unspeakable humiliation, but you also have the chance to wrap up a nice STD for her on the side! What a man! What a "moral crusader!" You're a joke.

Look at your wife, still by your side, supporting you. Why do these wives of politicians continue to stand next to the men whose newly disgraced name they willingly adopted? It makes no sense to me. If it were me, I'd kick that piece of Spitz in the balls about 10 times(one kick for each year this has been going on), and then call it a marriage. I mean, this woman puts her extremely successful career on hold to raise her daughters and support your political ambitions. You thank her by blowing 80 grand on hookers. Flowers, chocolate, or diamonds can sometimes be more acceptable presents. Just a heads up for next time.

And good lord, your daughters! How will they ever trust men again? At least they're all teenagers; those years don't really have an effect on how someone learns to show and accept love. You are such a scumbag. It'd be bad enough if you dragged your own name through the dirt, but now the 4 women in your life who share your name have to be subjected to the embarrassment that only you alone should be feeling. You, who paid almost six figures for sex. It's not fair.

Spitzer, you think you're alone here? You think you're the only one who gets tempted from time to time? You're not. I don't know why you were too weak and gave into the temptation to cheat...over and over and over. Maybe it's your baldness. Maybe it's your huge ears. Maybe it's that dong of yours that sounds horseish only if you use the metric system. ("It's 9 centimeters! I'm Peter North reborn!") The simple fact is, you blew it. Anyone who spits on a loving wife and 3 teenage daughters effectively blows it. The position you're in just guaranteed that this would be national news, not just family-and-friends news. With your Harvard Law degree, one might think you'd have been a little smarter when it came to handling temptation. But instead, you lost your job, possibly your marriage, and 80 thousand dollars. Solid week.

2. Chicago Sports

Oh, Michael. How we miss you. Times were so much simpler then. I was a little too young to fully appreciate the 6 championships in 8 years, a fact that still makes me rage to this day. I didn't know how great we had it for a while. Well, we're paying for it now. If memory serves, the city of Chicago has had no major championships since Jordan left. The White Sox don't count. They're an irrelevant brother, like Frank Stallone. I also don't count the Sky, the Wolves, or the Fire. I'm talking about Chicago's 5 major sports teams here. We'll start things off simply:

Chicago White Sox: Garbage. Next!

Chicago Cubs: The team looks pretty solid this year! It really is looking like 2008 could be a great season. But this feeling of optimism that has come over me is somewhat diminished by the fact that history has now given us over a century's worth of consecutive mushroom-slaps. Also, Wrigley Stadium is a dump, a jinx, and it smells like cat pee. But I already covered that part.

Chicago Blackhawks: The other of the 5 teams that has me feeling optimistic. Certainly not for this year, but there's some bonafide young talent, and home games are suddenly being televised. That said, it's hockey; nationally televised on Versus. Yes, that's a TV network, folks. Hockey's not dying, though! It's "cooler" than ever! Pun!

Chicago Bears: I really don't have too much to say here. It's the offseason, last year's team was pathetic, and it's looking like this year's team will be the same way. Yet Chicago sports radio won't stop talking about the Bears. I was thoroughly amazed by the uproar caused by the statements that newly-signed WR Brandon Lloyd made. First of all...um, hi! Brandon Lloyd was this year's big free agent signing? This spells trouble, son. Secondly, he believes Rex Grossman to be the starter. (a) The fact that Grossman might start next year is effing horrifying. (b) The fact that Lloyd made it a point to mention this so quickly after signing makes me think that it had a huge effect on why he became a Chicago Bear. He signed because he wants Rex Grossman throwing him the ball. God help us. Our free agent stud is fresh from the loony bin.

Chicago Bulls: Current record? 26-38, solid enough to be a half-game out of the final East playoff spot. "The NBA: Where mediocrity happens" I keep hearing that 2008 is a fantastic year to be an NBA fan. For fans of the Western Conference, the Celtics, the Pistons, the Cavs, and the Magic, I completely agree. But we're Bulls fans. Our leader in PPG is Andres "Crazy Eyes" Nocioni, at 14.2 per game. 14.2?? What is this, high school? We just picked up Larry Hughes, inspiration for the genius Cleveland blog http://www.heylarryhughespleasestoptakingsomanybadshots.com/ . Yes, we dumped Ben Wallace in the process. Hooray. Forgive me if I'm not ecstatic over here. Every night I see Tyson Chandler devouring lobs from CP3 over in New Orleans. He was a solid double-double guy in Chicago, so we let him go for a washed up, whiny brat that cost twice as much.

Way to go, Pax. If you played like you GM, you would have taken the pass from Horace in Game 6 against Phoenix in '93, and then instead of draining the trey, you would have held the ball for a few seconds, then called timeout. And instead of inbounding the ball after the TO, you would have held it for a 5 second violation. This is what you do. You wait. And wait. And wait. You are the poster boy for the No Balls Association. Gasol or Garnett would have helped A TON, but instead we hung onto Luol Deng and Ben Gordon for too long. They're currently struggling so mightily that they have virtually no trade value. Tyrus Thomas is headed down the same road. Kirk Hinrich suddenly realized he's white. Scrap it all, Pax! We need to start over, tank a few seasons again, and wait for another LeBron to fall into our laps. The only thing this nucleus will win is a championship in the two-on-two Hideous Face playoffs. We'd be unbeatable with Joakim "Wow, This Guy Is Ugly" Noah and Andres "The Vampire" Nocioni as the core, with Kirk "Harry Potter" Hinrich and Drew Gooden's beard coming off the bench. As for basketball? No, it won't work. Time to act. Time to start over.

Time to watch my Bulls DVDs and sob uncontrollably.

Wrigley Field: Professional Sports' Senile Grandfather

Yesterday I wrote that it's a travesty that Sam Zell is looking to sell naming rights of Wrigley Field. While I still wholeheartedly believe that Zell is a moron, and while I also believe that my buddy Dan's idea to take a dump on his windshield is fantastic, some clarification is in order.

The Cubs need a new field. It's true. How am I so sure? I made a list of pros and cons; and as Tina Fey will tell you, a solid pro/con list yields worlds of information.

Pros of Wrigley Field:
1. Tradition
2. Ivy

3. Scoreboard

Cons of Wrigley Field:
1a. The aforementioned 'tradition' has given us a century of losing teams
1b. Curses and crybaby players
2a. The always-present smell of urine, perhaps due to..
2b. The pig trough urinals
3. Sitting and watching a game is uncomfortable, which is far from ideal
4. Old Style
5. Below-average food
6. Bar scene that's only enjoyable if you're wearing your frat jacket
7. Where's the jumbotron?
8. Really, the only stats you're giving me are avg, hr, and rbi? Is this 1940? Are the Germans in Poland?
9. Ok, so where do I park?
10. Seriously...WHERE THE HELL DO I PARK??
11. 7th Inning Stretch Celebrity Singers

Wrigley Stadium. What an idiot. As you can see, the cons far outweigh the pros here. The Cubs need a new place to play. Wrigley would still stand, of course. It's a historical landmark at this point. And by the way, it's officially time to get a new facility when the one you're using has already been deemed a historical landmark. Good lord.

Look, if this were the 1960s and 70s and every new stadium was a domed eyesore with astroturf inside, I'd be singing a different tune. But we are in a glorious era of stadium design. Every new construction tries to outdo the previous best. New parks are a beautiful place to watch a game, there's ample parking(hellooooo, tailgating!), the food is delicious, and the latest technology is implemented in the form of kickass jumbotrons that hold the attention spans of even the most rabid of baseball destesters. Plus, if your team blows(Washington in 2008, Milwaukee in 2001, the Cubs in 20??) a new stadium brainwashes the fans, son! It's an instant seat-seller!

As I mentioned above, there's way too much terrible history to keep playing in Wrigley Field. If you combine the old-balls architecture, the awful smell, and the horrendous events that have kept the Cubs from hoisting a World Series trophy for a whole...damn...century...well, why in the world are we still playing there? It's ugly and it's a bitch! Time to throw her to the curb!

I can hear all you naysayers now. "Blasphemy! How dare you, L Tray? What about the scoreboard? For God's sakes, what about the IVY???? WAAAAAAA!!!"

Shut up. I've talked to so many people that want to keep Wrigley open for those two reasons alone. Scoreboard and ivy. Are you kidding me? I'm fairly certain it wouldn't be rocket science to have another ivy-covered wall and a similar(aka improved) scoreboard in a new stadium. What's that? It won't be the same? That's right. As you take in the sights, your other senses won't be assaulted by the delicacies of a 96-year-old stadium.

So where do we build the new stadium? I don't care. The suburbs. The city. On Lake Michigan(that'd be sweet). Anywhere but where it is now. To clarify, I stand by what I wrote yesterday. If the Cubs have to play in Wrigley, it needs to be named Wrigley. It's tradition. It's what's kept the Cubs as sports' punch line for so long. But if a new stadium is built, I am perfectly fine with the naming rights being sold to the highest bidder. Name it Bartman Field, if possible. That'd be a nice middle finger extended to tradition.

Thorough Thursday Thoughts

It's 11 am and I have yet to eat, so if I'm a bit cranky, you can go ahead and sit on your hot mom's face.

1. A few people have notified me that the WNBA had a team in Cleveland called the Rockers because the city is home to the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame. Thank you. Now, here are my issues:
1a. You care too much about the WNBA. It is not fun to watch. If this is coming off as sexist, I don't know what to tell you. I'd rather watch women play volleyball, tennis, golf, softball, pool, and poker before I see them play basketball. They suck. 4 out of 5 feminists agree with the L Tray.
1b. The Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame belongs in Cleveland about as much as the True To Your Wife Hall of Fame belongs in Salt Lake City. Off the top of my head, here are some cities that would be better suited: Austin, Denver, Seattle, Chicago. Boom. I didn't even think. Cleveland sucks. But apparently it's home to the U.S.'s 2nd biggest fashion week behind NYC! So at least there's that!

2. Halo 3 is a great game. Nothing like a couple well placed headshots and plasma grenades to get you through the day. So, on to my story. One of my brother's friends(we'll call him "Mike") was doing his very best the other day during an intense session. He was really trying. You could see the effort, even if you couldn't see the results. We were all very proud. Then 'Maddness72' showed up.

It was immediately obvious that Maddness was either a female or 5 years old. After some subtle questioning, she was confirmed to be a lady. She kept saying things like "Wait, what's this game called?" and "If I keep playing this, you promise to buy me a pair of shoes?" She obviously had no clue what was going on. And then she killed 'Mike' 3 times. What a disaster. Afterwards, in tears, he promised nothing like that would ever happen again. Oh, but it will indeed happen again, for 'Mike' is without question the worst Halo gamer of all time.

3. Sam Zell, the horribly evil owner of the Tribune Company, is looking to sell the naming rights of Wrigley Field to the highest bidder. That's right. We could soon be watching a Cubs game at Eagleman Insurance Field. If, like me, you think this is a travesty, go to http://www.suntimes.com/sports/815403,zell022708.article and voice your thoughts. Short of throwing poop at Zell, this is the best thing you can do. Go! Do it now!

February: The Calendar's Poop Stain

Last winter the surrounding area that is L Tray's area of influence experienced 8 days in which snowfall was recorded. This time around, by my count, we're about to pass up the 35th day. Global warming? Shut up. And don't give me any safety-scissors logic that an abundance of snow proves global warming. That doesn't make sense. You're a hippie.

If I'm a bit cranky, it's probably because I've seen the sun in the last few months about as much as I've seen my own gooch. I'm looking out the window right now at a brutally depressing gray sky that is currently giving us all the middle finger once again in the form of 3 to 5 additional inches. 35 days of snow? Are we in Manitoba? February, in particular, is a huge bitch. Naturally, the folks in Chicagoland are staying indoors more in this abomination of winter months, reading books, drinking cocoa, gaining ludicrous amounts of weight, and watching movies.

It's only fitting that the worst of months would bring out the worst in film. After all, science has proven that nothing in February is ever a good time. Need proof? Let's take a look at these huge box office winners so far this month.


2/1-2/3: Hannah Montana & Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds Concert $31.1M
RT Score: 85%
RT Synopsis: None
RT Notable Critic Quote: "Seems Disney has discovered yet another way to print money." -Peter Debruge, VARIETY

As far as critics are concerned, this is by far the best #1 movie of February. But you can color me slightly confused. I'm not too hip when it comes to the Disney Channel, but maybe my numerous 14 year old female readers can help me out with my two questions. 1. Are Miley and Hannah the same person? 2. How in the name of underage potential did this movie make over 30 million dollars in one weekend?


2/8-2/10 Fool's Gold $21.6M
RT Score: 10%
RT Synopsis: "Full of humorless gags, a predictable storyline, and flat performances."
RT Notable Critic Quote: "At least costume designer Ngila Dickson didn't have to work too hard on McConaughey's wardrobe." -Lou Lumenick, NY POST

They really should have stopped at How To Lose A Guy With 10 Gays. Quit while you're ahead, kids. Learn from the mistakes of the Goldie Hawn spawn and Shiny McRippedabs. My favorite part of the trailer(since I'll never see the movie) is when Sweaty McNoshirt is apparently flying an airplane because of Playstation. HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Topical technological humor! Gimme 8 tickets! They're all for me!

2/15-2/17 Jumper $32.1M
RT Score: 15%
RT Synopsis: "An erratic action pic with little coherence and lackluster special effects."
RT Notable Critic Quote: "So freakin' awful." -Richard Corliss, TIME

I had no interest in seeing this film even before I realized Hayden Christensen was the lead role. The guy that tag teamed the Star Wars saga into a coma alongside George Lucas's screenwriting is now a superhero? And nobody's heard of the superhero before? Wow. Train wreck. And it made 32 million. I'm speechless.


2/22-2/24 Vantage Point $24M
RT Score: 35%
RT Synopsis: "Premise is undermined by fractured storyline and wooden performances."
RT Notable Critic Quote: "Viscerally effective but lobotomized." -James Berardinelli, REELVIEWS

For all you idiots out there(and you're certainly out there, spending your cash on atrocious movies), What James is saying is that this movie doesn't make you think. And in a whodunit such as Vantage Point, thinking would probably be a good thing. But because you're all idiots, my prediction is that the masses absolutely loved this movie. It stars a sexypants TV surgeon(Matthew Fox), last year's Oscar winner for best actor(Forest Whitaker), the dad in Parent Trap(Dennis Quaid), and that guy from Dave(Sigourney Weaver). Quite the cast! And we all know the successful movie formula:

Names We Recognize + Too Much Hype = At least 20 million opening weekend dollars!

Man, I hate February.

The 11 Worst Logos in Professional Sports

Some team logos stand the test of time, surviving wars, city relocation, and decades of social change. Take, for example, the NHL's original six. We have the Boston Bruins, Chicago Blackhawks, Detroit Red Wings, Toronto Maple Leafs, New York Rangers, and the Montreal Canadiens. Six legendary logos. I firmly believe that if a team's logo is outstanding, the organization has a much better chance to last for decades. Think it through, people. A team moves in with an excellent logo. A casual sports fan gets a hat or a jersey as a birthday present. He starts wearing the merchandise. He then goes to games. He brings others to games. And on and on we go. So, basically, if your logo is just plain awful, there's no chance. Take these 11 examples from past and present teams.

Cincinnati Redlegs (MLB, 1954-1959)

This logo answers the age-old question: Can a baseball really be a pedaphile? One look into this drunken uncle's eyes shows you his true intentions. Yes, he's married. Sure, he's a great athlete. It's all a cover-up. Now take your pants off or he'll tell Santa you've been naughty.

Fort Wayne Pistons (NBA, 1941-1957)

I am thoroughly depressed by this one. What is going on here? Is this poor genetic experiment made of oil cans? Also, he appears to have human hands and human feet; it's a tantalizing and tortuous taunt for the poor tinman. Nice head, too. Love the smile. Someone obviously drew it on, because this monstrosity is dying inside.

Milwaukee Braves (MLB, 1953-1966)

Proudly celebrating 14 years of bitter racism!!

Chicago Packers (NBA, 1961-1962)

Mooooo!!!!!

Philadelphia Athletics (MLB, 1901-1954)

Ladies and gentlemen, meet our new left fielder! His name is Jumbo, and he'll work for peanuts! Is this thing on?

Pittsburgh Pirates (1925-1930)

Captain Cornelius led his band of ruffians despite being horribly inbred. This logo emerged at roughly the same time as the Original Six. There really is something to my logo theory.

Philadelphia Quakers (NHL, 1930-1931)

Shit! Run! The Quakers are coming! Nothing puts fear into the hearts of opponents like some warm oatmeal and warmer religious values. Pennsylvania sure can pick 'em.

Cleveland Rockers (WNBA, 1997-2003)

When I want to hear a sweet guitar solo, I always travel to America's sweaty armpit. Never trust Drew Carey.

Utah Starzz (WNBA, 1997-2002)

It's time for me to let you in on a little pet peeve of mine. I'll put it in the form of a poem. When a plural word loses an S and gains a Z, I Want to go on a killing spree! Better yet, let's add two Z's! We'll sell twice as many tickets! Idiots.

St. Louis Browns (MLB, 1902-1953)

All black people are aliens. You didn't hear that?

Connecticut Sun (WNBA, 2003-????)

Wooo!!! Spring break in Connecticut! Yeah, when I think sun, I think Hartford. Gimme a break. This is the only team still in existence. It won't be for long.

In Defense of the Steroid Era

This is Roger Clemens. Note his look of sheer intensity.This expression shapes his face after a clutch strikeout to end the 6th, sure. But it is also the same face he has when he's trying to bean his kid during a Father-Son baseball game, when he's taking an aggressive, Hall of Fame shit, when he's throwing his wife under the bus, and when he faces idiot Congressmen in one of the most pointless wastes of time in recent memory.

What did I learn from that worthless day? That P.T. Barnum would have recorded the proceedings and archived them in his spank bank, and that steroids aren't all that bad.

I don't mean to say that the dog and pony show that was the McNamee/Clemens proceedings caused me to conclude that steroids are fine by me. I guess I realized it long before, but only now am I able to articulate my thoughts. Allow me to explain.

First of all, Congress has no business trying to regulate or enforce as far as Major League Baseball is concerned. It's not because all the suits need to focus on other national concerns. I've been hearing an abundance of this crapola from a bunch of different people, both credible and insane. I don't care about that. Congress can sit on its collective thumbs all day for all I care. They probably already do. I just remember thinking the same thing over and over as the day went on: "Wow. These guys know nothing about baseball." Names were misprounounced. Stats were botched. Some colossal douche couldn't even pronounce Rafael Palmeiro, one of the largest names of the Steroid Era. Are you kidding me? You can't take a couple hours to prepare for national television? Do all Congressmen actually enjoy the combination of cocaine and strippers' asses? I thought it was just a stereotype! When ignorant people are allowed to enforce, what do you get? Local police. Or chaos. Congress does not belong in this fight.

The only way the federal government would need to be involved in steroid abuse is when it comes to the education of kids. They need to know that this stuff is not okay to put into a still-developing body. Without education, kids are idiots. Let's not forget this. They see Clemens and Bonds, these titans among giants, amassing colossal stats. Time to emulate! In this upside-down world we live in, an asshole redneck like Clemens and a conceited recluse like Bonds are role models. They don't deserve it.

Roger Clemens is a flame-throwing psychopath, the greatest pitcher of our time, and the second greatest pitcher ever according to baseball-reference.com. He absoultely belongs in the Hall of Fame. Without a doubt. So does Barry Bonds, and so do Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa(to a lesser extent).

I'm an American. I want 85 home runs in a season. I want 375 strikeouts. Here are the qualifications: For a home run, a regulation baseball has to be obliterated by a regulation baseball bat over an outfield wall, in fair territory. If the person swinging the bat is using performance enhancers, GOOD! That ensures a few extra feet on the home run distance! I am so sick of pretending I care about steroids in baseball. These guys know what they're doing. It's a calculated risk. The pros of taking steroids are: fame, adulation, an enduring legacy, and gobs of money. The cons of taking steroids are: possible health issues or disciplinary action. Am I missing something? This is too obvious. For tens of millions of extra dollars, I'd use steroids for a few years. Besides the Mormons, who wouldn't?

If you're shocked and appalled right now, you'd better check it at the door. Remember 1998, you big idiots? The year in which steroids saved baseball? To be more specific, this was the year that McGwire and Sosa duked it out in an epic home run race. It brought back casual fans and the people that were still pissy about the strike in 1994. Remember what the attitude was like in those days? We ate it up. Bomb after bomb, and we wanted more. You're all hypocrites.

Here's my new rule: If you're old enough to throw a curveball, you're old enough to use steroids. Right around age 16 or 17, go for it! Wanna make millions, kids? Shoot yourself up with this! Make sure you always look up to athletes like Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds. Notice the way Clemens destroys his wife's anonymity and pride by saying she was injected with human growth hormone! Notice Barry's neglect of his adoring fans! Always be an asshole! It will make you rich! And above all else, never try to be like your parents or your teachers. They don't make enough money.

Gayness In Elderly Foreign Celebrities: A Thought-Provoking Study

During and after World War II, our grandparents were churning out record numbers of straight American babies. Overseas, however, the children being born were instantly subjected to countless moustaches, overly tight pants, and an overabundance of cigarettes. The result, of course, is that any child born away from America before 1950 had a 95% chance of being a humongous, flaming homo.

But that's okay! For you see, even though 19 of 20 were gay, many of these people still had the opportunity to live more successful lives and kick more ass than most of us will ever manage to do. Here are 4 men that led or are leading fantastic lives because of/despite the fact that they dive headfirst into sausage links more enthusiastically than refugees.

Freddie Mercury

Freddie is best known as the frontman for the band Queen, and is widely regarded as having one of the best live voices in rock music history. Songs of note include "Killer Queen," "Bohemian Rhapsody," "Fat-Bottomed Girls," "We Will Rock You," and "We Are the Champions."

Are We Sure He Was Gay?

Yikes.

His screaming vocals were often matched with even-louder attire. But we still need more evidence. Let's see...what does Wikipedia have to say? "By 1980, Mercury began to frequent gay bathhouses and clubs, where he met many short-term partners." See, that could really mean anything. Business partners? Raquetball teammates? It doesn't really say.

Hold on, there's more. "Inspired by Glenn Hughes of the Village People, Mercury also began to grow a moustache around this time."

We have a homo!

Why He Kicked Ass:

This is an easy one. Just go to YouTube and type "Queen live" in the search box. Note his stage presence, his love of the crowd, and that voice. Wow, that voice. I might go gay if I knew it'd give me a set of pipes like that.

Elton John

Sir Elton John is a pianist that has won Grammys and an Oscar in recognition of his musical success. Like Mercury, he has a strong, recognizeable voice. Also like Mercury, um...

Wooooooooo!!!!!

Are We Sure He's Gay?

Yes. Yes we are.

Why He Kicks Ass:

Are you serious? Elton John is a master of composing situations that are familiar to all of us, situations that really hit us in the depths of our souls. I'm a Rocket Man! I'm alone in outer space and I'm horribly lonesome! Who doesn't identify with that? He composed music for The Lion King! Come on! Remember when, like Mufasa, your dad fell off a cliff with the assistance of his evil brother? When "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" came on, what male in here honestly suppressed the urge to pounce like Simba on the nearest helpless female? If you suppressed that urge, good sir, you just might be as gay as...

Ian McKellen

Sir Ian is one fantastic actor. We here in the states know him for playing Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Magneto in the X-Men series. However, the stage in Britain has long been a spot where he can consistently be found, and he thoroughly scared the American out of me in Apt Pupil.

Are We Sure He's Gay?

Yes. Although, he's somewhat more discreet than the previous two rock stars about his lifestyle. Instead of frequenting bathhouses and wearing light blue feather boas, McKellen was a founding member of Stonewall in 1988, a prominent LGBT rights organization.

Why He Kicks Ass:

If there is one person on this earth whom you should never cross, it is Sir Ian McKellan. I have personally seen this seemingly frail man lift vehicles, snap bridges, and propel bullets with his brain. You don't mess with Sir Ian.

For crossing Ian, the cameraman's new vocation quickly became "hand puppet"

As if that weren't enough, McKellen also has some formal wizarding background, not unlike our final entrant into this exclusive list:



Albus Dumbledore

Are We Sure He Was Gay?

Well, author and probable female J.K. Rowling proclaimed after Dumbledore's death that he was gay in life. Quite the loving obituary...those Brits sure know how to send someone off. I, for one, am not buying this one. It's just a bookselling ploy, people! We all know that the gay community boycotts reading of all kinds unless the author openly supports their cause. Apparently Rowling needed a few more books to sell to finalize the horrendous dental bills she most likely incurs.

Never mind. She obviously needed the extra cash to pay for those sweater melons. Nevertheless, I can't believe she would slander the former Hogwarts headmaster after his death, effectively giving him no chance to defend himself! Can you imagine?

Reporter: L Tray died this evening, because he was old balls. He will be missed. Also, he was gay.

L Tray's ghost: What? Dammit! No I wasn't! Shit! Oh, if only I could come back to life to refute this horribly untrue claim!

If Dumbledore were actually gay, he would have leaned toward those tendencies in life. Sure, he never got with the ladies, but he also never kissed on any dudes. This means that we have to assume he was straight, for two reasons.

1. There are more straight people than there are gay people.

2. J.K. Rowling is a woman. Thus, she is not to be trusted.

Why He Kicked Ass:

Because he was straight.

The verdict? If you are an elderly, non-fictional, male, foreign celebrity, you are most certainly gay. Dumbledore almost threw the whole correlation upside down, but it turns out he's not a real person. So to any famous, toothless Brits reading this, it's now a fact: You are gay.

The Real Oscar Preview

I'd like to apologize for my horrendous Oscar preview. I need to atone for my sins, and as a way of doing so, I am giving you all a preview by someone who really knows his nominees: a young man named Kyle. Let me tell you something about his dedication. With the exception of two movies, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and La Vie en Rose, the dude saw every single film that is nominated in the 4 actor categories, Best Picture, and Best Director. By my count, that is 17 movies. The man knows his flicks. Read on.

Welcome to Kyle's preview of the only categories that matter in the 80th Annual Academy Awards. Come and join me as I give you my own winners, Kyle’s “second place” award, as well as an honorable mention to those who should have been nominated in his or her respective category. I am right and if you see different results on February 24, just remember that they are wrong, and I am the man. And I am sorry to Marion Cotillard (Best Actress), and Julian Schnabel (Best Director), because their movies aren’t worth watching and therefore, they didn’t win.

Best Picture
Winner: No Country for Old Men


Kyle’s Second: Atonement
Honorable Mention: Into the Wild

Although Atonement is my favorite film overall, you can’t get past the power that No Country for Old Men has. The script is probably about three pages long and yet it tells maybe the best story of the year. It’s a terrific film, but the other four nominees (Atonement, Juno, There Will Be Blood, Michael Clayton) are worthy of the most anticipated award of the night as well.

Best Actor
Winner: Daniel Day-Lewis (There Will Be Blood)


Kyle’s Second: Viggo Mortensen (Eastern Promises)
Honorable Mention: Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild)

Daniel Day-Lewis is a man, and it’s about time that my generation notices him for being a man. He is going to take home his second Oscar and if he doesn’t, there is something seriously wrong with this world. That is all.

Best Actress
Winner: Cate Blanchett (Elizabeth: The Golden Age)


Kyle’s Second: Julie Christie (Away From Her)
Honorable Mention: Helena Bonham Carter: (Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street)

That’s right! The Oscar for Best actress, for the second year in a row, is going to the Queen of England! I want the Academy Awards to get out of the habit of automatically rewarding actors in biographical roles, but it’s not going to happen this year. Blanchett, surrounded by a cast full of intimidating male figures, is able to show the most power and dominance out of all of them.

Best Supporting Actor
Winner: Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men)


Kyle’s Second: Tom Wilkinson (Michael Clayton)
Honorable Mention: Forest Whitaker (The Great Debaters)

Javier Bardem flips a coin… you get it right, you live… you get it wrong, you don’t live. “And the Oscar goes to… Javier Bardem!” An amazing role played by an amazing actor. Hal Holbrook, who is also nominated for this category, represents the whole supporting cast of Into the Wild. At least four or five different actors and actresses could have been nominated for their roles in the film.

Best Supporting Actress
Winner: Amy Ryan (Gone Baby Gone)


Kyle’s Second: Ruby Dee (American Gangster)
Honorable Mention: Alberta Watson (Away From Her)

I refuse to promote any more Oscar winning actresses who looked like a man, acted like a man, or played a man in their film. So, I’m sorry, but Cate Blanchett is not going to be a double Oscar winner this year for her Bob Dylan lookalike role in I’m Not There. Amy Ryan plays a slutty, drugged-out single mom, and for some reason you still want her to get her abducted child back. Oscar Gold.

Best Director
Winner: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen (No Country for Old Men)


Kyle’s Second: Paul Thomas Anderson (There Will Be Blood)
Honorable Mention: Joe Wright (Atonement)

The Coen Brothers have written, produced, and directed many great films over the years (Raising Arizona, Fargo, The Big Lebowski, O Brother Where Art Thou), but they have never won the Academy Award for best Director. This is their year.

Bands That Suck (as of January 2008)

I love arguing about music. There is no possible way anyone's opinion matters more than any other person's. We interpret what we hear in a unique way. A certain song's lyrics might be corny to me and meaningful to you. A guitar solo might be too obnoxious to some and wordless poetry to others. Nobody's opinion regarding anything about music is ever correct.

Except mine! Here is a superb and absolutely accurate list of some bands that currently suck.

The No-Talent Wastes of Time: Nickelback

Leading off with these guys on a Bands That Suck list is a no-brainer. They are what I like to call a Four-Way Suckfest. What this means is that their guitarist lacks the chops for a kickass solo, their bassist does not drop any sweet lines, their drummer can't stand out more than simply keeping the beat, and their lead singer(Chad Kroeger, huge douche) writes lyrics with all the beauty and elegance that I have when I'm dropping a deuce. 2 of the following song titles are made up, and the rest are actual Nickelback songs. See if you can spot the two pretenders.

If Everyone Cared
Savin' Me
Follow You Home
Your Penis Tastes Outstanding
Feelin' Way Too Damn Good
Why Do We Suck?
Figured You Out

The Band Crippled by Too Much Falsetto and a Harmless Sound: Coldplay


I actually listen to these guys. They have the look and they put on a solid, energetic live show. That being said, whenever I hear their music, I have to check to make sure I'm not at my dentist's office. This is rock music? Where are the guitars? Do they exist, or is their guitarist unplugged while he pretends to play? And Chris Martin sings with all the testicular fortitude you'd expect from someone who allowed his daughter to be named Apple. When I was driving the other day, I listened to 5 straight tracks from X&Y in order to determine whether Martin could go 30 straight seconds without using that horrendous falsetto. Sadly, results were inconclusive because I drove my car into a telephone pole midway through "Fix You." Oh, and speaking of horrendous falsettos...

Band That Rocked, Currently Sucks: Incubus

This just makes me sad. If you've never heard either S.C.I.E.N.C.E. or Make Yourself, drop me a line and I'll get them for you. Those are two fantastic records. And then, inexplicably, they tried to evolve. Yes, ladies, Brandon Boyd got hotter in the process. Surprisingly, I care very little about this fact. I'd rather hear good music. I don't want to hear songs like "Southern Girl" and "Love Hurts." I don't want to hear yet another man waste his voice by firing out some nice, mellow falsetto. I want to ROCK! Why can't anyone let me rock anymore? Are there no bands out there with some talent and genuine love for their craft?

The Worst Bands on the Planet: Fall Out Boy, Linkin Park, A Simple Plan, Good Charlotte, My Chemical Romance

I don't want to waste my time posting pictures of all these posers, so here are the 5 members of My Chemical Romance with their entry for Ugliest Band.

Now I know what a piano would look like if it were trying too hard to be emo.

I can't bring myself to write anything more about these 5 bands. They're all so bad, they really defy description. They craft an image for themselves in order to hit a certain demographic (Early teenage girls) and sacrifice any shred of musicianship they may have had. What happened to the good ol' days, when music was improvised? Did they really just pass me by?

Wow, I feel old.

Why Radical Islamists Hate Us

Take a look at the top 5 movies this weekend.

1. Meet the Spartans $18.5M
2. Rambo $18.2M
3. 27 Dresses $13.4M
4. Cloverfield $12.7M
5. Untraceable $11.4M

Look at that savvy squad of films up there. Is there a gun to your head, people? Do you really need to see a movie every weekend? Meet the Spartans at #1? Really? By puking up almost 20 million dollars, we ensured that more of those horrendous spoofs will be made in the future. Fantastic. Spartans has a 3% on Rotten Tomatoes. That's almost impossible. 97 out of 100 critics hated this movie. And it made 20 million. Oh, and I also had a little fun on IMDB just now. Here are some quotes that pop up for various films.

The Godfather:
Don Corleone, I am honored and grateful that you have invited me to your home on the wedding day of your daughter. And may their first child be a masculine child.

Casablanca:
Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.

Meet the Spartans:
What you laughin' at, cracka?

#1 movie. Awesome. If you're looking for a date idea next time, go out to dinner. See a concert. Rent a movie. Throw a football around. Sled. Play World of Warcraft. Watch a YouTube tutorial on how to properly krump. Do anything else. Or, if you really wanted to see Meet the Spartans this weekend, make dual appointments for a vasectomy and some tied tubes.

If You Date a Simpson, You Suck

Some women can make you a poet. You can hear music in a different way because of them, you would do absolutely anything for them, and you just might even lay down your life for them. And then we have Jessica and Ashlee Simpson. These two bimbos share an affinity for poser boyfriends and a sexually tense relationship with their father. In fact, in order to learn more about Jessica and Ashlee, I will be sitting down with their most current boyfriends: Tony Romo of the Dallas Cowboys and Pete Wentz of the band Fall Out Boy. Wait, what? Romo dumped Jessica? All because he blew that Giants game? Ok, then. I'll just be talking to Wentz. Now, I don't want to make a fool out of him. I'm a professional, and I'd like to conduct a calm, neutral, unbiased interview. That said, here's a leadoff picture of the guy.

L Tray: Hi there, Pete. Why don't you have a seat. Oh, and here's the picture I'll be using to introduce you. Is that okay with you?

Wentz: Oh, yeah! I love that picture! I only wish that I had used a little more eyeshadow for this one. There just isn't quite enough, you know?

L Tray: Uh..

Wentz: I also love the little "roar" next to me! I really do look like a tiger or something! I'm gonna getcha! Hahaha! My goodness, that is one special picture.

L Tray: So, how are things with Ashlee?

Wentz: Oh, thank you! Thank you for asking! Things are just spectacular, yes they are.

L Tray: So have you been able to find out why she has to have her name spelled like she does? She couldn't be called Ashley? Did you slap Joe in the face for that?

Wentz: She is just so unique. I think that's what Joe was going for.

L Tray: She's not unique. Unless you count the fact that she is the only lead singer for a rock band who lip syncs. That is amazingly unique. I mean, she doesn't even dance or anything! Why in the name of 99 cent nuggets does she lip sync? Is she that untalented?

Wentz: Yes.

L Tray: Oh. Well, thank you for your honest response.

Wentz leans in and starts to whisper.

Wentz: I'm only in this relationship for publicity. I really am not attracted to her at all.

L Tray: Well, that's understandable. She's just trying wayyyy too hard. It's so unattractive. And her face! I just want to punch it! When she does that little pucker...

Wentz: No, you don't understand. You read that Blender article on me, right?

L Tray: Ohhhh...I see what you're saying.

Wentz is referring to the article in which he admitted to being bisexual, kissing all up on some dudes, and in general being sexually attracted to men.

L Tray: You're gay? Really? That's so hard to believe!



Wentz: I know, I know.

L Tray: Oh, and by the way..I loved how you were just criticizing Ashlee's talentless musicianship when you're the bass player for a pop punk band. Wow, that sure is difficult.

Wentz: What? You're saying it's easy doing what I do?

L Tray: Brilliant deduction, Inspector.

Wentz: Bitch, you think this is easy? I don't see you doing it!

L Tray: You're right. I know enough not to develop an eating disorder, wear more makeup than a 45 year old divorcee, and embarrass myself on stage night after night. Your band is awful.

Wentz: Bitch! Drop your pants! Let's do this! Right now!

L Tray: That...is not a typical response.