Josh Allen is My Father and The Dolphins Are Still The Bills Bitch

Josh Allen is my father. Josh Allen owns me. I’m Josh Allen’s puppet, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The Buffalo Bills own us. We’re their little bitch. They tell us to bend over, and we do it. They tell us to get on top and ride, we do it. They tell us to get on all fours, and we comply. 

What the Miami Dolphins did tonight—and what they’ve done over the years against Buffalo—is an embarrassment. Not just to the fan base, but to the game of football itself. It’s a disgrace to every great rivalry in the NFL. And honestly, I can’t even call this a rivalry anymore. We’re their bitch, plain and simple.

This isn’t fun. It’s depressing, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s *embarrassing*. I don’t know why I hype myself up for this game every year. It’s like watching the same movie over and over, knowing the ending never changes but still somehow convincing myself that *this* time, it will. 

But it doesn’t. We suck. WE GOT NO FUCKING DOG IN US MAN.

It’s the same script, the same inevitable outcome, year after year. Josh Allen comes in, rolls over us, and leaves us in pieces. And yet, every season, I convince myself that *this* is the year things will be different, that somehow we’ll have the upper hand. But we never do. It’s time to face the facts: we’re not just losing to Buffalo. We’re being humiliated.

I’m exhausted. I’ve been on this emotional rollercoaster long enough, and it’s time to admit that maybe it’s time to start over. Again.

Buffalo, I hate you. I hate everything you stand for. I hate that you have Josh Allen. I hate that you own us, and there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s not just a loss; it’s a complete annihilation of hope, every single year.