On Easter Sunday, Teddy Roosevelt took a commanding lead in the Nationals’ Presidents race. He was well on his way to a rare victory when all of the sudden…
Seriously, where did that goddamn bunny come from? Doesn’t he have better stuff to do on EASTER SUNDAY? You know, the day he’s most needed. Ugh. Somewhere, probably in a suburban mall, a child waits for his pic with the bunny—meanwhile this douche is slamming beers at the local park.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
[MLB]
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