Had to share this. My friend showed up at the coffee shop this morning in this t-shirt from the '84 (or maybe '85) NBA Finals. He dug it out of his collection this morning after last night's awesome comeback win. He also kept a little piece of duct tape handy that was big enough to cover the "fuck"
so he could apply it "if the priest shows up for breakfast."
I figure, hey, making awesome bootleg t-shirts to sell on Causeway Street counts as a HubArt, right?
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