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…
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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?