There has been a lot of talk about Joe Sixpack during the election. I kind of think "Joe Sixpack" is a demeaning term, but what do I know? Maybe blue collar guys like it when millionaires call them functional alcoholics.
But what about the fur-wearing, Xanax-popping, Zin-sipping ladies of the beleaguered upper middle class? I like to call her Jane Threepill. Jane is worried because the stocks of her husband, Chad Nannybanger, are in free fall. They might have to sell the vacation home, and is there anything more dreary than being stuck in Manhattan when your friends are summering in the Hamptons? Don't hate them because they use "summer" as a verb.
I don't consider myself a Joe Sixpack, mostly because I don't like cheap beer. I'm more of a Fatty Twopint; a guy who loves craft beer but is trying to lose weight and doesn't have a lot of money, so he limits himself to two at a time.
I work with a lot of guys I'd call Josh Quarterounce; young males who spend a substantial portion of their meager incomes on pot. You won't hear a lot of pandering toward them, though; they never vote.