All joe ever did was leech off others and make an ugly daughter who secretly loathes him.

It didn't seem possible that there was a lower rung on the "music business" ladder than renting out the Moose Lodge hall to throw concerts for yourself, but there is a lower rung, and Joe has found it. What must have been echoing through his walnut-sized mind while he strummed and warbled at the produce market. All that wasted time, energy and money, and for what? Being background noise for people buying bags of topsoil?
 
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