Yes, sweetlings, come closer. We have such wonderful things to sell you.0-17
Our number one demographic for fruit snacks rationed using a ruler. You may not have much of an income yourself, but your doting parents will try to buy your silence in lieu of paying actual attention to you. Since you are so easily manipulated we will bombard you with advertising designed to send you begging to your parents. As for politics, well, everyone must think of the children at all times, but especially during an election. You are our future. Our gullible, cash cow of a future.
One of the most useful demographics for marketing and one of the least useful demographics for politics. Candidates will drop something in there about student loans or Pell Grants or some crap like that and you will like it. You don't vote, so you have no room to complain. But hey, volunteer. We could sure use some dumb kids to get out there and bust your ass canvassing so we can immediately forget about you once the election is over.
You buy cars, houses, and piles of stupid consumer electronics. You probably haven't accumulated vast wealth yet and you're not hobbled enough to need constant medical care, so we're not going to go overboard. You vote in large numbers, but you don't really care about the elections, so we'll just cook up some dumb message like "Hope for Change" or "In It to Win It" or give you some bullshit about universal health care and that will be enough convincing.
No, please, by all means. Handle a broken tablet while pregnant. We have other pills to fix that.45-65
Retirement looms. Your productive years are coming to an end and you're starting to get thrifty. Luckily you make up for that thrift with a sudden need for all sorts of stupid pharmaceutical products. Your boner doesn't work, you have restless legs, you stay up all night, and your arteries are choked with the burgers we sold you 20 years ago. Now it's time for us to turn your pockets inside out for prescription drugs. Hey, while you're at it, why don't you head to the voting booth and elect somebody that will subsidize this sack of pills you're gulping every day.
You are the kings of the world. You all vote. Every one of you. That means every election is geared directly towards you. The world revolves around your waning lives. Fuck the kids, fuck the grandkids, and tax everybody who isn't on social security so you can live to be 120 in a bubble filled with opiate smoke. These are your pharmacological nightmare years, but they're our golden years. We intend to enjoy them.
Did you see yourself on this list of the major demographics? Fear not! We have developed micro-trend polling and we can now detect every taste and proclivity and isolate tiny slivers of the demographics pie based on the silliest categories. Don't believe me? Well maybe you should, Mr. Scrimshander-earning-36-to-45-thousand-per-year.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
With an average of 40 IPAs added every day, it can be difficult to taste them all
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