does it get any worse?

miserable fucking show here tonight at the jazz club. i'm sitting at the bar, may a half an hour into the first set, with edward who be whining about some bitch he fucked 2 or 3 times and how she all done with him now, cuz like whatever, and this older fat drunk lady and her friend, who seems pretty cool, is like, god damn, i need a pillow, i'm falling asleep, and we're like yeah, and she's like ugh, this music is making me wanna kill myself. she saying all this rather loudly, and it's pretty fucking funny, i'm of course not doing my job at all by sitting at the bar having and drink, and also failing to tell her to quiet the fuck down, but whatever i don't care, the show sucks complete ass and is a total self indulgent tool all stuck in his world of how cool he is, but he fucking sounds like amatuer high school night, no phrasing, no timbre, no soul, pathetic life less blowing of the sax. fucking weak. so after this drunk lady, jamie, or janie, i forget, she shows us the dildo she just bought, her friend shows us the rubber pussy he picked up, he got batteries, she forgot. anyway, they're like, fuck this horrible music, let's go to the tittie bar, and i'm like, i can't i gotta stay and pretend to work, but i'm like edward, go with them, cuz i'm so over his whining, he keep asking me, how good looking am i, and i'm like, yr ok, and he's like come on, on one to ten, how good do i look, and i'm like, well i'd fuck ya, and he's like dude, stop, and i'm hey, and he's like, yr such and bad friend, and i'm like yr melodrama be getting old. anyway, fat lady and fatter male friend leave for the tittie bar, on their way out, during a bass solo of ever so fragile volume, she hollers on the way out the door, ugh that music is terrible, makes me wanna die, or something of such profound righteousness, and me and edward bust up the fuck laughing. good times!