The Way We Live Now: Wrinkled. Our faces wrinkle from stress. Our money is wrinkled from our tight grasps. And our clothes are wrinkled, because the god damn Chinese are taking over the ironing board industry. Smooth-clothed bastards.
How many ironing board factories would you guess are left here, in America? Twelve? Thirteen? Fourteen? Fifteen? Sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?
Try one, my friend. One ironing board factory, in Indiana, to supply the entire US of A with quality American-made ironing boards. Why? Because entire families in China are willing to live in the dumpsters at massive Chinese ironing-board factories, working on rotating shifts, 24/7, starting at age three, for eight cents per hour, just to flood our fair shores with cheaply-made ironing boards in the special "Chinese" style.
Or so I imagine. Econometrics can be a complicated field. What's clear is that you, the consumer, are a sheep, easily lured by credit card "discounts" into indebting yourself to the Target Corporation, unto penury. No amount of usurious taxation can stop you from sucking down the soothing smoke of nicotine and fiberglass, rolled by hand, by machine. Though you harbor fantasies of being awarded "The Salary You Want," you will surely end up receiving only The Salary You Deserve—$138,169 per year. Or, if you're not a Major League Soccer player, probably around $7.45 per hour.
You, the consumer, are a simple sucker. The type of person persuaded to purchase a multimillion-dollar apartment by a few clicks of Photoshop that artificially "brightened up" the place. You sicken me. And I would come and thrash you, if only I looked presentable. Can't find a decent fucking ironing board to save my life.