Spell-check is for forking idioms.

Wow, I've actually joined the Age of Aquarius and installed a blogging app on my iPhone! Just think, I can waste even more time spouting my opinions about useless things to all those who will read them!

Ok, so I don't have an audience. Did that deter Michael Hutchens? Haha, sorry INXS fans, but he was a bit of a wanker.

I gave my left testicle a wee pinch as punishment for that last pun. I deserved it, really I did.

I started this post with a title in reference to spell-checking. I have no idea why really, since spell-check really is our friend. The true enemy of modern written communication is the vile "auto-correct". The program is just a complete jerk, and it occasionally makes us all seem so much more stupid than we truly are. I can't count the times I've caught myself sending a message to a friend asking them "Hey, what are you Doug tonight?"

Come on Auto-Correct, you are killing my reputation as a wannabe quick-witted smart(ish) guy.

Anyway, I'm seriously not going anywhere with this post. It's really just a trial run of this app, to see If it actually works, and to see if I like it. I will conclude this waste of Internet space with a poem:

--A Painfully Sarcastic Poet--

Of all the golden forests, and gentle dawns
Of all the whispering quiet I have drank in my thirsty youth
Not a thing compares to the sweet, inviting sound
Of a wind broken, just as the elevator doors close.

The 'F' word.

The 'f' key is a beautiful thing.

This sounds a bit ridiculous, but it has a particularly poignant relevance to my day. I recently purchased a bluetooth keyboard from a private seller on amazon.ca only to discover that the 'f' key did not work at all when I fired it up. For a severe hack of a writer, this is a problem.

The letter 'f' is a critical component of many of my favourite words. Some of them come in particularly handy when I am trying to articulate my frustration at getting a new keyboard that doesn't acually work. This is what I wrote to the private seller when I recieved my 'f'-less keyboard:

"Hello,

I just got batteries into this keyboard and one o_ the letter keys does not work. Its pretty obvious which one it is since i cant type it, but it would be most use_ul to articulate my _rustration. Obviously I would like my money back, so what steps should I take to make that happen? Also, there is a mark on the back o the keyboard, but I'm no really that concerned about it.

Steve Vincent

Sent _rom my iPad without the use o_ the letter _.

P.S. _ucking _fi this you_ucking _uck."

So obviously I'm a bit miffed. Who wouldn't be? I am a musician who fancies himself a terrible writer, so obviously I cannot afford to throw money away on a non-functioning keyboard. A it happens, my band Tupelo Honey is playing the Rainmaker Rodeo in our lovely little hometown of St. Albert tonight. Yet instead of being excitied to share the stage with one of our favourite bands (The Trews, some of the kindest and most supportive musicians we have ever encountered), I am e-mailing the wretched douchebag who sold me a _ucked up keyboard. And what was his reply? Check this out:

Hi Steve,

I am sorry to hear that. However. Before I shipped it, every key was inspected and was working. If you would like to refund the item, please ship it back to the return address. However please keep in mind that if the key is broken, I will only refund you a reasonable discount at my discretion according to amazon's return policy. This is because if the returned item is not in the same condition of when I shipped it, I am not required to provide a full refund or the shipping fee back. I urge you to try another set of batteries (remember you need 4) and redstart the keyboard and try it with another device before returning. This is because I am not obligated to provide a full refund and shipping costs if the item is not returned in the same condition i shipped it in.

I apologize for any inconvenience caused, thanks.

At this point, I am fuming. Of all the nerve! This guy is claiming that they keyboard was in perfect condition (listed as a "new" item to be accurate) yet the 'f' key doesn't work?!?!?!

"ARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!"

Anyways, so I send a complaint email to amazon.ca and let them know that this seller is trying to rip me off They got back to me quite quickly, yet basically said that it was the private dealer who was responisble for any recompensation, and that they were essentially correct in thinking that they were not obligated to provide a full refund.

At this point, I am enjoying some dinner before our big hometown show and try really, reeeeeallly hard not to let this guy ripping me off effect my nigh in a negative way. Unfortunately I don't do an excellent job of this, and become quite annoyed at the whole situation.

Frankly, I just do not like being cheated. Something about being deliberately ripped off by someone really make we want to forcefully remove their testicles with a dull seashell.

So I did everything I could do for the moment. I emailed the seller to complain, I emailed amazon.ca to complain, and I got very close to _uck all for help. So the best course of action was to really just enjoy the night as much as possible and deal with it all later.

The show itself was amazing. There was a lot about this show that was really enjoyable, but I haven't really taken it all in yet. I might write a full post about it in the coming days, but there are no promises. Ever. Lts just say that it brought back a lot of memories, and very good ones at that. We've had some amazing times while on tour with The Trews, and some of them were among the best times of my life. Tonight was a revisit of those times, and I'm very glad to have been able to participate. Also, the beer was flowing like a menstruating snowman that just got off a plane in Arizona. I am actually quite inebriated now, so any spelling errors that have not been corrected are to be blamed upon the liquor. Mmmm, beer is quite good. I'm fixing nothing.

Anyway, I just got home after ditching the late night McDonald's run that my trusted compatriots anticipated me joining. I'm really tired, and wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep before I visit my mother in the morning for breakfast. So jut for fun I decide to try out the keyboard again.

The bloody thing is working like a charm. Even the flipping 'f' key in all its fluorescent fibrillations. "The Foo Fighters forgot to frame Freida Fairly's favourite fingerpainting". See what I mean?!?!

Damn! I feel like such a bastard for ratting on the seller (a mister Bill W, who sold me a keyboard in good faith, yet I labeled him as a charlatan) even though the product works. I don't know why the 'f' key wasn't working before, but it is working now! Watch: Faulty fitting feature flabby funbags. That was a lot of 'f's, and all were typed on the keyboard that apparently doesn't work. Though it does work, and my brutal accusations wer directed towards someone who didn't deserve them.

This makes me feela little awful inside. I evision some kindly middle aged man trying to sell off his toys so he can afford to heat his trailer for the next winter, and I called him a charlatan.

Whoops.

I don't know if I'm really to blame. The 'f' key really wasn't working before! I did not make this up! But maybe I do owe Bill W an apology, since the unit does work now.

Then again, if I eat my words this late at night I may have trouble sleeping. My words are preety rich, and might give me nightmares if I eat them too late.

I think the only course of action is to do absolutely nothing. Bill W will think I'm mad at him, but I won't actually have to DO anything to get the keyboard that I wanted. He can continue to think that the guy in Alberta who bought his keyboard is going to ask for an official refund at any moment. Though as long as the keys work, I am sold. The thing comes with a nifty ipad stand too so I'm in nerd heaven right now.

Ok fine, I will email Bill W in the morning and let him know that the keyboard does work. As for now, I am morbidly tired and need sleep immediately. Bill W can wait, I have sheep to f.... I mean, to count.

See?! The 'f' key is essential for good comedy!

Sorry Bill W, you were the brunt of my annoyed anger today and for that I do apologize. I owe you a good muffin.

The moral of the story is that you should always, ALWAYS buy brand new products off of amazon an avoid using private sellers. Just because it happened online, doesn't make it less seedy than buying speakers out of the back of a van. Bill W may have come through, but he was ready to screw me over big time. Frankly, I don't think I can accept that from anyone who isn't a larger and more dangerous inmate than I am.

Thanks for reading this far! It was a journey for both of us, since I wrote this on my "new" "functioning" ipad keyboard from logitech.

"Logitech: Who cares about the penguins anyway?"

I'm totally passing out here. Goodnight kids. And sorry Bill.

You poor, misguided fool...

I'm sorry, you must have mistaken this blog for something that won't tempt you to take your own life after you read it.

Here at Steve Vincent vs. Productivity, we (well, I) guarantee that we (ahem, I) seriously don't give one solitary rat's arse whether or not you are remotely entertained by the horrific abuse of the English mother tongue that is so obscenely displayed upon this pixilated landscape.

This blog is strictly for me.

I used to write a blog that had a similar title to this one, and I had a great deal of fun with it. It was incredibly rude and fairly vile, but I'm proud of the way some of those posts worked out. I actually think they were quite funny, but there was one real problem with them. I was trying too hard! I would spend a few hours on each post, trying to make it have some sort of (dare I even say it??) point. <----Horrific misuse of a perfectly good word! The result was that, at my highest frequency, I would post maybe once a month.

That, my friends, is just plain dumb.

As of recent months, I have definitely felt a serious urge to get back into some kind of writing. Over the past year, I have actually been doing some freelance writing FOR MONEY (a fact that blows my mind every time I think about it... It will only be a matter of time before they figure me out and lock me up somewhere rather unpleasant). But what I really want to do is just write. I want to tap into somewhere deep in my brain that hasn't had to show up to work since the last time I was trying to finish Golden Axe 3 in the arcade on my 3rd quarter.

The fact is, I feel fairly creatively flatlined at the moment. For me, this is a problem.

For a significant portion of my life, I have been a musician. Well, a bass player, but still. Every NFL championship has a kicker that gets a pity invite to the after party. I am that kicker, and you bastards need us. Anyway, being creatively drained as a musician can be a bad thing, because it has a way of turning something you love into something more like work. Or wait, that might be marriage. Either way, I think the concept applies.

As much as I love music, I have a lot of other interests in the creative world. Sadly, none of these things will ever pay me any real money, so feel free to send care packages of foodstuffs and warm blankets whenever your pity levels reach critical mass.

So I figure that my music would benefit if I started exercising my silly imagination towards a different horizon. And though a blog is typically a place where people waste the marvel that is the Internet on showing pictures of dogs in crocheted hats, or sharing recipes for low-fat/ludicrously high-sugar muffins, my blog will serve a greater purpose. It will be like that least smelly portable water closet at an open-air festival. Not quite the Palace at Versailles, but serves a vital function.

And for all you mega-nerds out there, I am aware that the palace of the Sun King did not actually have any bathrooms within it. This was a simpler time, before bran flakes.

The main issue is that I just need to start making things.

I need to create. I need to take whatever it is that my unfortunate collection of cells, cilia, bile, and other organic components collectively amount to and express it somehow. Oh, I am not daring to even think for a moment that it won't be TOTAL GARBAGE, but at least it will be mine. This blog will be like the treadmill in the gym of an extremely lazy man. It will stare me in the face, forcing me to use it just enough to keep me alive to watch M*A*S*H reruns for another week while eating cold beans right out of the can.

I don't actually eat cold beans out of the can, though I'd be lying if I said I hadn't before. They aren't really that bad. My apologies to the good people at Heinz. Particularly to the department that makes the ones with the maple syrup. Mmmmm.... My British heritage is actually salivating at the thought of cold baked beans.

Anyway, I'm going to wrap this up pretty quick just in case some poor fool actually made it this far. Me and my little iPad are getting pretty tired and need to get enough sleep to make sense of Introductory French in the morning. Oh yeah, I'm foolishly back in school doing a degree through Athabasca University. As if I didn't have enough wasted hours under my belt! But hey, at least now I know that Louis XIV didn't go number two inside his glorious house.

So here begins my quest to re-ignite my creative fires on all fronts. This might not be the best way to do it, but I don't exactly have time to backpack through all of Thailand's finest brothel districts. Well, that and my desire to write about myself is higher than the embarrassment I feel knowing somebody on earth may one day eventually read this.

Gulp....