vs MIA 2024-11-11

talked to this dude before the game, told me he's dropping 9

Pls just get less than 20

I need 11 points but the other dude as Puka am I cooked?

Offense looks out of sorts

Down 76. Please help

Stafford playing crappy

Need you to out play hill and I’ll win dad

I need 11 dude. Just 11

Really need this dude to drop a dud this week. Been on a losing streak and my opponents had the Lions as half his lineup 😭

Update: Matthew Stafford fucking sucks

Need him to score 5.5 more than achane

give him the ball stafford

Outplay Nacua and it’s a w for me

Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all.

wake-up

Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all. Post-Election Blues and Fantasy Dreams The ballots are counted, the race is all done, And yet here I sit, feeling overrun. Hope and dread mingled, I wrestle and stew— What now for us all? Where do we go through? But in comes a comfort, a small spark of light, A place I escape to each Sunday night. Fantasy football, my gridiron dream, Brings back a glimmer, a weekly routine. I draft, trade, and plan, setting my sights, With my roster lined up like heroes in tights. Touchdowns and tackles, a hopeful refrain, Lift me above the world’s heavy refrain. For a moment, I’m free of the daily grind, Lost in a league that’s entirely mine. In the field of my choosing, my spirit stands tall— An escape and reminder: there’s hope after all.

Spam it

Bro just 2 points

I need 12.52 am I cooked?

King I need you 25 points please

Is he even on the field😭😭

Looks really bad pookie is getting no targets from staffboy

He better be