So there were two big winners in Nevada tonight.
A. Donald Trump
B. The dude in the shirt.
Actually, I’m scratching the opening statement. There was one big winner in Nevada tonight.
A. The dude in the shirt.
Yes, Trump took the Nevada caucus in a landslide, further proving that he can say, literally, anything and people would still prefer him over Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz. But … man! That shirt! I was watching the news at the gym tonight, doing the ol’ Elliptical machine, when Cruz starting kickin’ his thing, trying to make an awful third-place finish sound like the second coming of Jesus Christ (and, Ted will tell you, he’s most definitely coming). It was annoying and nasally and irksome and … the shirt! It’s just the best garment of all time—some sort of farmer-rave merging that I 100-percent guarantee either Shannon Hoon or a member of Sublime once had in a closet. Everyone else on the stage was wearing a suit, and many had ties. But this man, directly to Cruz’ right, knew the truth:
• 1. Ted Cruz got smoked.
• 2. The only way to turn a smoking festive is with a killer shirt.
So don’t let the somber facial expression, the slumped shoulders fool you. There was a party going down at Ted Cruz headquarters.
Plaid was in the house.
