What I Like: Football

This “What I Like” should be titled something else entirely.  “Like” isn’t the word that best describes my feelings toward football.  It’s borderline obsession.  I know, I’m a guy, I should like football, love it even.  But it really has become an obsession of mine, an extremely unhealthy one for that matter.  When the lockout was in place, I was panicking a little on the inside, more and more each day as the future looked bleak for a 2011 season.  This depressed the shit out of me.  I couldn’t picture a fall and winter without football.  I’d die of boredom.

I always liked football as a kid.  I’d watch the Patriots on Sundays and be content.  The Pats were all I needed back then.  And they weren’t even good, so it was sort of bittersweet.  But when I got older I got into a little game called Madden.  Ever heard of it?  Kind of popular.

Anyway, I started playing Madden and it was a wrap after that.  I was hooked.  I not only played as the Pats, but every team.  I was a preteen learning about defensive formations, screen passes and hot routes.  It gave me hours of enjoyment late-hitting Peyton Manning every snap, but it also taught me a shitload about football.  The kind of stuff only a video game would be able to teach a young kid.  I would take Madden games seriously, yell at the screen, and belittle anyone who picked up the sticks against me.  But watching real NFL games made a lot more sense to me.  I understood what was going on and I wanted to know more.

And then I got a little bit older and started playing fantasy football.  I know, fantasy football was only created to give guys something to do that made it seem like we were being productive.  All it really provided was a new way to gamble, and a new way to become obsessed with my favorite sport.

And make terrible, terrible bets.  But fantasy football hooked me into the sport for life.  No longer would I only care about my Patriots every week.  Now I was tracking stats of every athlete in the league, including third wideout options on terrible teams.  Stuff no one should do unless they have a lot of time on their hands or has a problem.  And I have a problem.  I stare at my screen, constantly checking the waiver wires, seeing if one person could be added to my team to ensure I wouldn’t get a terrible tattoo or lose all my money.  Shit, I watched all of the terrible Broncos/Raiders game on Monday after the Pats wrecked Miami just because I needed Darren McFadden to get me 15 points to win the week.  You know, normal stuff like that.

And now it’s happening all over again.  The first week of the 2011 NFL season is complete.  I’m watching every second of every game I can, my fantasy teams are battling it out in the trenches, and the new Madden game is played whenever I have a chance.  It will be like this until February.  It’s a great time to be a football fan.

And yes, that is a tattoo…on me…for life.  THAT’S how much I “like” football.

What I Like: Redheads

Next up on my list of favorite things in the world?  Redheads.  I know a lot of you may be surprised.  You probably pegged me for a dumb blonde type, right?  Hey, I had my phases.  Blondes came and went.  Brunettes are always there.  But for me, redheads are so gorgeous, and I honestly don’t know why.  Maybe it’s hidden deep inside my Irish genetic makeup.  Perhaps generations of Sick Buck’s have passed on a dominant trait to stop and stare at a beautiful redhead.  I can’t really explain it.  But I swear, every time I spot a redhead, I give her a second or third glance.  Ask my friends.  They know my obsession with them.  If they come into my workplace, someone will give me a holler so I can creep a little bit and get a good look in at her.  Hey, I’m not above it.  The way I look at it, I’m just trying to do some research to figure out why I’m so obsessed.

My mind can comprehend a few simple facts about redheads…

1) Natural redheads will always be sexier than girls that dye their hair red.  If it’s dyed, fine, I’m obviously gonna stare at you still.  But I think a big thing for me with redheads is the rarity of them.  When blondes and brunettes go out and dye their hair red, they want that attention.  I’m not buying it.  Don’t get me wrong, a lot of girls look really good as a redhead, but it’s usually a phase.  I’m in it for the longevity.

2) If you’re a redhead, you almost always go up 2 points on a scale of 1-10.  Don’t ask me why, I can’t explain it.  If a blonde walked by me I thought was a 6, turned out to be wearing a wig and walked by me again as a redhead?  BOOM, she’s an 8.  It’s simple math in my mind, but I completely understand if it confuses others.

3)  Redheads AREN’T gingers.  It’s cool nowadays to bash gingers.  But most people use this term as a derogatory blanket for all redheads.  They’re wrong.  Gingers are very pale, and very freckled.  Not all redheads are gingers.  This is important to note, because sometimes gingers turn me off completely.  Not even the red hair can save them.

4)  Redheads are rare.  This is most likely the main reason I’m infatuated with them.  For every 1 redhead you see, you see 100 other blondes and brunettes.  That’s why I’m doing double and triple takes every time one crosses my path.

In closing, I still can’t really explain this fascination.  Maybe that’s why it’s so high on my list of likes.  I guess what it all comes down to is rarity.  Blondes and brunettes are a dime a dozen.  A hot redhead is rare.  Like seeing a unicorn or something.  So when one passes my way, I’m taking in that beauty.  Give me a redheaded Irish girl any day of the week and you won’t hear a peep out of me.  Until then, I’ll be staring and drooling like always.

What I Like: Asses

I was trying to think of what my next “What I Like” article would be after the first installment.  I know these aren’t always going to be in chronological order of what I like, but right behind Boston, I gotta say asses are what I like the most in life.  They probably should have been #1, but hey, what are ya gonna do?  When I say I like asses, I mean I live for them.  99% of the time, that’s the first thing I notice on a girl.  If I’m walking around outside, sometimes my senses are on overload.  Sure, I’m scoping out the hot girls asses all around town, but then I find myself looking at asses of girls that are, for a lack of a better word, fugly.  It doesn’t really matter.  I’ll give it a gander.  Alotta times you’ll find a diamond in the rough.  All shapes, sizes and color are fine with me for the most part.  A tight, compact white girl ass…a thick, voluptuous Latina buttocks…a small, barely there Asian badonk…it’s cool with me.  I respect and admire all ass. In the words of the late great Big Pun, “I love from butter pecan to blackberry mollass’…I don’t discriminate, I regulate every shade of that ass.”  Sure, a nice pair of boobs are great, but for me, I’ll be an ass man till the day I die.  I just hope the way I die is getting some ass when I’m a dirty old man.  That’d be poetic.

What I Like: Boston

This is my first installment to a new fixture of the site, simply titled “What I Like.”  Figured that I’ve had the site up long enough but most of you probably don’t know what makes Sick tick.  So I’m making the first post about the greatest place on Earth…Boston.  If you’re not from here, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now.  But I could care less.  Bostonians are the proudest people in the world, and we take our city seriously.  New York may have the Statue of Liberty, France may have the Eiffel Tower, but we have Fenway.  Our sports teams shit on every other, and our love for them is unparalleled.  My obsession with Boston sports has been documented here with my tattoos, and I can honestly say it’s unhealthy.  But that’s the beauty of Boston.  We are extremely loyal, wear our emotions on our sleeves, and we talk a lot of shit because we back it up.  There’s a reason why most of the country hates us.  We’re cocky, don’t pronounce our R’s and know we’re the coolest kid in school.  I can say with 100% certainty that Boston has directly shaped me into being who I am today, for better or worse, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Hands down, best city in the world, and if you don’t think so you can go fuck yourself.