Cause it's ONE, TWO THREE strikes yer oouuuuuuttt

Oh, glorious opening day of baseball. There is nothing more decadent than a sausage and a beer in the stands of a ball game when everyone else is still at work. Okay, so maybe we had to wait 14 hours to get the sausage and missed a dead president gliding down a rope across the stadium. But it was worth it!
And maybe I don’t have skin on the small of my back anymore, due to the sliding in and out of our seats through the guardrail, so as not to bother the lovely people to our right and the slightly scary pervert to our left.
And maybe the Nats lost, but we did have a glorious view of Ryan Church bending over. We may or may not have gotten louder and more verbose about the state of his affairs as the game (and beers) progressed.

Thank you to the parade of people whom we loudly judged from our seats who pretended they couldn’t hear us. And guy with no shirt and the argyle socks: Law-rah wants to take your picture.
Dead guy on the hood of his car in the parking lot: when you lie like that, we can see your boxers. They were dark plaid.
All ya'll with your baseball caps on your heads who then placed your free cap over it: You guys are the epitome of kewl. Especially those of you with three hats facing in every which direction.
Hey guy wearing the rally cap: save it for the playoffs. Seriously. Rally cap at the opening game. That would be like hockey players sporting playoff beards on the first day of their season. Figure it out. Sheesh!
And finally, to the guy who was wearing his jeans low and also forgot to wear a shirt: if you are going to flash your underpants, try to get a pair someplace besides K-Mart. I am not certain I know of any girl who swoons over tighty-whitey brand underpants (10 for $1!!) (Slight misnomer here. His panties were gray, not white.)

Go Nationals.