The T-shirt competition continues

For about 20 years one of my best friends and I have engaged in a t-shirt sending competition. I have picked up strange and beautiful shirts as I lingered at thrift stores and garage sales, finding beer themed throwaways and relics from failed small town political campaigns. He has found some strange shirts working as a photojournalist around the world, sending me shirts from Beirut bars and Haiti orphanages.
Recently I sent a box of four or five classic shirts I had uncovered from a West Virginia mine and out of existence brothel and I once again claimed an elusive victory. Yesterday I found the post office had delivered a box filled to the brim with classic, sort of amazing shirts from Brooklyn, which is apparently the center of the known universe.
As I have said countless times over the decades, game on my friend, game on,



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