Joe's situation amuses me to no end

[The Talking Dead]

He's currently onboard a shitty cruise ship and playing way more talented musicians' songs to a bunch of completely bored 80 year olds who just want to enjoy a drink at the end of their day but instead are greeted by a total retard who can't accept he failed as a musician and is now a performing monkey in his 60s who has to sing for his supper.

It's just funny to me.

 

[Cygnus Nana X-1]

Moo pays for his suppers with CASH$$$$$$$!!!!! LIBTARD!!!

 

[Turk February]

He's out on the open seaz the whole world is his. Who knows what kind of adventures he can have? I guess the guy who makes the cruise itinerary and trip plan does.

 

[Slackjawed Cow]

 

[satanssockpuppet]

If Joe wasn't such an insufferable, self-important gasbag, he might not have alienated every local musician who's ever crossed his path, and he might be in a reasonably "successful" cover band, doing opening spots for real bands on Long Island or at Dingbatz in Clifton or whatever. But alas, no one can stand him, so his only remaining option as a "professional musician" was to take a job on some leaky foreign tub, floating around between a bunch of third-rate European destinations, and playing his creaky old classic rock chestnuts in cruise ship lounges before a bunch of old, drunk, seasick dipshits. No matter how hard he tries to spin it, it's the lowest rung on the ladder.

 

[JebJoh]

Someone send him a navy aircraft carrier hat so he has something to point at if seas get rough.

 

[Slackjawed Cow]

Someone send him a navy aircraft carrier hat so he has something to point at if seas get rough.

USS Moosouri

 

[Anthony's Lime Rickey]

At 1st I wanted to get him booted, but knowing that he can’t gamble, has to dress up and actually work for once in his miserable life is endlessly entertaining. He’s in a small cabin, has already pissed off his bosses, and none of fellow old people give a fuck about his music.
So far is only highlight was stolen valor cosplay on D Day Beaches. Scoop some sand into his boomer pill bottle and called it a day.
Much like little brother; he hates where is he is but will never admit to it cause ego.

 

[Slackjawed Cow]

At 1st I wanted to get him booted, but knowing that he can’t gamble, has to dress up and actually work for once in his miserable life is endlessly entertaining. He’s in a small cabin, has already pissed off his bosses, and none of fellow old people give a fuck about his music.
So far is only highlight was stolen valor cosplay on D Day Beaches. Scoop some sand into his boomer pill bottle and called it a day.
Much like little brother; he hates where is he is but will never admit to it cause ego.

He is also stuck with a bunch of old worn out underwear that he has probably been wearing as long as those COD shirts.

 

[BonnieMcFarlaneMe2]

If Joe wasn't such an insufferable, self-important gasbag, he might not have alienated every local musician who's ever crossed his path, and he might be in a reasonably "successful" cover band, doing opening spots for real bands on Long Island or at Dingbatz in Clifton or whatever. But alas, no one can stand him, so his only remaining option as a "professional musician" was to take a job on some leaky foreign tub, floating around between a bunch of third-rate European destinations, and playing his creaky old classic rock chestnuts in cruise ship lounges before a bunch of old, drunk, seasick dipshits. No matter how hard he tries to spin it, it's the lowest rung on the ladder.

Remember when he was trashing Fake Bono on Facebook? Very professional.

 

[Torque’sHeadBump]

insufferable, self-important gasbag

Do you think he bragged a lot to his band mates about to his baby bro’s success and money were because of HIS drive to get into “the biz”?

 

[satanssockpuppet]

Do you think he bragged a lot to his band mates about to his baby bro’s success and money were because of HIS drive to get into “the biz”?

Or that retarded "rider" where he was demanding sandwiches and Gatorade like he's David Lee Roth. Joe thinks he's a rock star. Every musician he works with quickly tires of his obnoxious showboating and fat-fingered licks. Both Cue-mia boys vastly overestimate their star power. Nana thinks there's a market for his trashy books, and Joe thinks he's Duane Allman, the guitar gun for hire. Meanwhile, Nana is sashaying around Shitburgh, SC like it's Beverly Hills, and Joe is flashing his disgusting armpits on a damp norovirus incubator. It's a never-ending source of amusement.

 

[JoeBrotheChildSpitGuzzler]

If Joe wasn't such an insufferable, self-important gasbag, he might not have alienated every local musician who's ever crossed his path, and he might be in a reasonably "successful" cover band, doing opening spots for real bands on Long Island or at Dingbatz in Clifton or whatever. But alas, no one can stand him, so his only remaining option as a "professional musician" was to take a job on some leaky foreign tub, floating around between a bunch of third-rate European destinations, and playing his creaky old classic rock chestnuts in cruise ship lounges before a bunch of old, drunk, seasick dipshits. No matter how hard he tries to spin it, it's the lowest rung on the ladder.

It's lower tier than Murph and the Magic Tones playing the Holiday Inn

 

[Dog Eater]

It's lower tier than Murph and the Magic Tones playing the Holiday Inn

Joe wishes he was invited to such a prestigious venue as the Armada Room.

 

[IGotATreeOnMyHouse85]

He’s in his 60s and has to wear a name tag.

 

[B.F. Wellington]

A privilege not afforded to most