My Inevitable The Ultimate Harper Jersey

I am perusing Chinese bootleg jersey sites at work today, fantasizing of not having more financial responsibilities than financial income, and pretending what I would pimp the fuck out of on hot Friday nights in back yards throughout south central Virginia, playing dice on picnic tables with people who are better known by assumed names than given names. (Note I did not say "real names" because the name you are known as is as real as it gets.)
I just had to get a fucking minivan for my family as our stupid fucking Subaru finally died and we've had like 19 more children since we bought that, so I can tell you with complete factual proof that my credit rating is in the very top of the bottom third of all people. It is enough to get by with until our entire western economy collapses in on itself as the smoke and mirror false wealth system that it actually is. Which is fine.
I was actually contemplating that yesterday while leisurely tossing scratch to my chicken flock in the back yard (seriously... I was), and it made me sad that MLB owners clique is such an uptight group of assholes that they won't allow crazyboy Mark Cuban own the Cubs, because he'll outspend everybody but the Red Sox and Yankees. What with the impending collapse of normal economic systems we've come to enjoy in our lives, I think now more than ever it would behoove baseball to allow Mark Cuban into their stupid fucking fraternity, and in fact encourage more like him, as the world shifts. Because in ten years, when America is full of fat, helpless slaves who are being victimized by the more animalistic who have been caged in inner-city breeding grounds of violence for generations, where will baseball go? Mexican drug lords are a good idea. Mafia influences, from traditional Italian as well as more modern Russian mafias are probably good bets to keep teams based in the northeast. These are all important things to consider, and imagine what a wonderful game it would be if it was owned by outright admitted criminals who are only too glad to have achieved a level of success in life that they can leisurely watch sports teams they have accumulated like trophies compete on the field of brown diamonds? It's far better than fuckheads like that McCourt dude and whatever newspaper owned the Cubs and just the general uptight asses who own things as it stands now, at least as far as I can tell.
That being said, I did not come here to talk about the collapse of America, and how America's past time will actually become more awesome upon that collapse. I came to talk about the most awesome jersey that does not exist that I may have my wife sew for me, because she knows how to do such things, just so I can look like the most etsy'd out sports jackass there ever was, and some douchebag with an inflated sense of the sanctity of dumb shit will cry "JERSEY FOUL! JERSEY FOUL!" at me indignantly.
You see, the bootleg Chinaman site I was looking at while wasting another work day of my life had none of the new blue Washington Nationals in The Ultimate Harper's number, which I find ridiculous. The blue uniforms themselves are not quite regulation I guess, and the initial style with the D.C. logo that has stars and shit on it has gradually been replaced by that ugly and stupid curly W that I guess hearkens back to yore old days of the Washington Senators boring the fuck out of a previous generation, probably at RFK Stadium I would imagine, but maybe something even older and more forgotten that is only seen on those weird postcards that look kinda like day-glo colors from the 1950s. You know what I mean; they are in every antique store ever, like two for a dollar.
The Nats uniforms have always been a boring comedown from the swank powder blue Expos joints with the bulbous M, but you know what? If you flesh that stupid curly W out into bubble letters, it looks sort of like that bulbous M, just upside down. So what I'm saying is take that old powder blue Expos style, flip the M over into a W, same red, white, and blue colors, throw it on with the #34 HARPER on the back, and what I have then my friend is straight motherfuckin' style. And I don't tell you this because I'm a huge Nationals fan... I sort of took them on by default because I had always rooted for the Giants since that was the name of my first little league team and I naively thought as an 8-year-old centerfielder that if I said my prayers and ate my vitamins and hulked up just right, one day I could be playing right alongside Johnnie LeMaster and Atlee Hammaker and Duane Kuiper and the like. But the Barry Bonds years really sapped me of giving a shit about the Giants, so when the Expos moved to D.C., I said to myself, "Self, this is a baseball team near where you live, so you can indulge in reading the daily newspaper prints about these guys and involve yourself like any literate nerd ass motherfucker, and emotionally tie yourself to a goddamned sports team you have no say over and no control over and no real reason to attach to yourself, other than to chew up that emotional space inside that otherwise is going to be empty and make you start looking for double penetrations of hirsute punjab chicks on youporn or something." So that's what I did.
It is more a matter of convenience that The Ultimate Harper is so ultimate. Strasburg seems kinda like a tool, very introverted and self-obsessed, pretty much the makings of another Roger Clemens if he can somehow not destroy his arm in four years, and I say that more on the douche-y psychological level not like he's the next 200 game winner MLB will ever see. Bryce Harper is just a stupid fucking kid who is really good. Any team's fringe fans who enjoy painkillers for leisure and having sex with ugly women so long as their breasts are big but real would feel the same as me. Which is why I don't understand how there cannot be a blue alternative Bryce Harper jersey available. But at the same time, it may drive me to create my own fake Expos/Nats alternate universe jersey.