No! Please! I won’t last a day in the joint!

I’m not tough enough for prison. I’m made of porcelain, for God’s sake. They’ll buy and sell me for a pack of cigarettes and then I’ll have to do whatever my new owner says. I wasn’t made to be filled with pruno! It’s unnatural!

Even worse, what if somebody shatters me to fashion the broken shards of my body into some kind of shiv? And then uses me in a breakout attempt? Not only will I be severely injured, I could be implicated in the murder of a prison guard.

If I get sent up, I’m going to have to kill someone to show everybody that I’m not some punk they can push around. I just need to look for the guy with the elevated heart rate and gastroinstestinal problems, and hope he drinks enough coffee out of me to push him over the edge.

Wear this shirt: when you get a mug shot taken. Next stop, the Smoking Gun!

Don’t wear this shirt: if you’re on trial for smuggling coffee. The judge will take it as a taunt.

This shirt tells the world: “Stay alert when you’re in the dishwasher.”

We call this color: Folger’s Prison Blues.

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