JoAnn from JoAnn Fabrics is a Stone Cold Bitch

Somewhere on a tropical island, JoAnn from JoAnn Fabrics is kickin' it on a white sand beach with a big, frosty margarita in her hand. She's tossing her head back and cackling like the evil bitch she is while surveying her private villa. The one that was bought and paid for with the meager earnings of working mothers who were brow-beaten into buying $15 plastic ivy wreaths for a Katie Perry "Roar" costume and a bag of plasticky, pink candy circles to melt for cake pops. (Cake pops, man. Fucking CAKE POPS).

Oh yes my friends. JoAnn is a straight baller and she is living large. She's like the Bernie Madoff of the crafting world, with a gazillion dollar empire built on card stock; wooden bird houses; garden gnomes; foam princess crowns; plastic holly branches; and seasonal crap for Hallmark holidays. The holidays that the Taiwanese nine year-olds who make all this shit for ten cents on the dollar during twelve hour shifts with one five minute dumpling break have never even heard of.

JoAnn's evil empire has stretched as far as Juneau. And if you can sustain a zillion square foot box store in Juneau, you are 100% definitely ripping someone off along the supply chain and rolling in the ducats. The rest of us can go fuck ourselves and eat circus peanuts marked down 30%.