Now stop that, it’s not that kind of blog post today.
There are many things I’m good at. I’m not too modest to admit it. In fact, I know I kick ass at a lot of stuff. There are, however, many things that I am not good at. I don’t mean things I just don’t do that well. I mean things that I really and truly suck at doing. Beyond the point of redemption.
For instance: I cannot draw. Seriously, even my stick figures are ridiculously, comically bad. Even if I were to take art classes for the next 10 years, I would never draw, paint, sculpt, or take photos beyond the level of a ham-handed 3-year-old. Clearly I was not genetically engineered to be an artist. I just don’t have the eye or the talent for it. And that’s okay. That’s why there are people like her and her and him, to name just a few shining examples.
I have the world’s worst poker face. Even Helen Keller could figure out exactly what I’m feeling and thinking. If I don’t like something, I can’t disguise it. It’s not just that I don’t want to disguise it—although that’s part of it—I really can’t disguise it. The expression on my face, my body language, and/or the tone of my voice will give me away every single time, no matter how hard I try to rein myself in. I may as well just have a visible thought balloon hovering over my head that says, “Fuck you.”
Most people I know can I do simple arithmetic in their head. I can’t. I’m very good at math in general, but I can’t calculate stuff unless I do it on paper. Want to see me look like a deer in the headlights? Ask me to figure out everyone’s share of the restaurant check without paper or a calculator. Mr. Weebles can add up all kinds of shit right off the top of his head, while I sit there like this:
(Also, I didn’t draw this. I’m not skilled enough.)
I can’t whistle. Every once in a while I can but it’s usually by accident. I also can’t make cartoon popping noises with my mouth. I wish I could because I think those noises are funny. And I can’t roll my r’s, so I’ll never be able to speak any Romance language without sounding pathetically American. Mr. Weebles can do all of these things. He’s the ultimate triple threat, really.
I can’t open boxes and bags without destroying them. I try, I really do. I follow the perforations, I tear where it says “Tear here.” But invariably I end up mutilating the package and spraying the contents all over the room. This is usually followed by “MOTHERFUCKER WHY CAN’T I OPEN BOXES LIKE A PERSON?!?!?” You can always tell which boxes I’ve opened because they’re the ones that look like this:
So these, dear readers, are but a few of the many mad skillz I do not possess. Tell me, what do you suck at?
Also, as a reminder, you still have five more days to donate to Movember for a chance to guess: Where’s Weebs??
Also also, it’s almost Party Time… Joe, Calahan, and Darla: heads up—your invites are coming.
I would hate to be a box in your house…it looks like they have been mauled by a bear.
To be fair, those are photos I just swiped off the Internet (shhhhh, don’t rat me out), but my own handiwork looks pretty much like this. I just don’t know how to be dainty.
I can’t draw either… Not even a pencil or a table
I’m with you, Boomie. We’ll just stick to the writing, then, shall we?
Oh man …. you and me both with the ‘easy open’ packaging! My wife always has to come see what all the cursing and weeping is about whenever I am trying to get into something in the kitchen. It usually ends up with me handing the item in question to her. I don’t think it is you and me…. I think they have specially selected teams of sadistic morons to design these things. ‘Peel back here’??? More like ‘Use a fucking chain saw here’!
That’s exactly what happens here, my friend—I end up either mangling it or just handing it over to Mr. Weebles so he can open it properly. Honestly, “Use a fucking chain saw here” may as well be accurate, right??
I also can’t whistle (not like how I can’t sing, but literal can’t make anything but a blowy sound) and aaaalso can’t click my fingers. When people learn this they invariably become determined to teach me how and I’m like a) do you think you’re the first person to tell me to put my fingers here and my thumb there (whoops accidental kinky) and b) this is really not negatively affecting my life so can’t we just have a wine now please?
Hi Shapelle! It’s funny, the weird shit we can’t do. People tried to teach me to whistle too: “It’s easy! You just do THIS.” No, because if it were easy, I’d have done it already. I thought your accidental kinky was funny, btw. Let’s have some wine.
The wine situation is in hand (literally)! I don’t think whistling-failure will hold either of us back in life either. Unless your life-goal was to be Dick Van Dyke or something. And then, you’ve probably got some other issues you need to attend to first…
I recently did one helluva mangle job on a bag of potato chips.. can I add I did not mean for them to end up behind the couch, tv and in my hair..
This post cracked me up!!
Oh, I know that potato chip mangle job, Lynne. I’ve done it too—potato chip shrapnel all over the place. It’s not pretty.
I suck at googling things, no really, I do. I often have to ask other people to google stuff for me. I also suck at being on time for anything. I suck at cooking, I do really mean mashed banana on toast though. General remembering of stuff is poor too. Earlier I couldn’t get a suction thing to stick on the window either.
Ps. I love this blog post.
Thanks limmster! I have problems with suction things too—they just don’t stay when I put them up, no matter what I do. They fall down a few minutes later. Mashed banana on toast sounds pretty yummy, though. What more culinary skill does a person really need beyond that?
Ha ha Mrs Weebles, you make me laugh yet again…possibly because I relate to many of the same things that you can’t do. Much worse though…I’m an accountant! (I’m damn good on a calculator though)
I think it’s hilarious that an accountant doesn’t do simple math in her head–this makes me feel much better, Jen!
It is very funny…despite that, I am good at maths; just not in my head!
Fantastic whistler. Extremely poor singer. Whenever I try to sing in the car or during “happy birthday”, people look at me like I kicked a kitten. It’s horribly embarrassing.
Oh dear. Haven’t people ever heard of the phrase “It’s the thought that counts”??
What is this not being good at something thing you speak of?
I should have clarified—it’s something that only us mere mortals have to contend with. Nothing to concern yourself with, John.
Whew!
Those boxes are awesome! I share the no poker face problem and the doing basic math in my head problem.
The no poker face thing can be a drag, can’t it? It’s occasionally frustrating, mainly in situations where I should be more mature and/or professional. But I can’t help myself—the upper lip curls, the eyes roll, and my voice gets snarkier. What’s a person to do??
Maybe botox? Complete paralysis of the face might be the only hope!
You should start carrying around a swiss army knife.
Not only will it help you with the boxes, but you can stab anyone who insists you do any of those other things.
Problem solved.
I’ve got to hand it to you, El G—this is brilliant. You just solved pretty much all of my problems in one comment. I’m gonig to cancel my standing appointment with my shrink, I no longer need any assistance.
And now you can put the copay towards bail money!
I’m with you on the drawing. My fix-it skills have limits. My creativity sucks, too!
I disagree, Frank–you have some delightful creativity and I’ve seen it on your blog. So there.
Thanks … BUT ….
No BUTS! No!
I hear ya. I can’t click my fingers, people have got irate trying to teach me. I just ain’t got rythym
Eh, finger clicking (we call it “snapping” on this side of the pond) is an overrated skill. The only time it comes in handy is when you’re summoning the pool boy. And even then, you can just yell, “Hey Hot Stuff, come over here” and that works just as well.
Now I just want a pool boy, with or without a pool
And I’m very excited about the party. I know Darla, but never met Calahan, I’ll investigate. I have nothing to wear! I’ll just trim my cuticle
what should I bring to this party? I have a half bottle of cheap white wine and one piece of pumpkin pie left in the fridge…
That won’t go far, I’ll borrow our works credit card and we can go to town
yippee!!
I can bring my leftover stuffing but the mashed potatoes are all gone. At any rate, the caterers will handle our needs so not to worry.
The mash was the best bit. Caterers, will I need to learn snapping by then?
No need to worry about the wardrobe, Joe. Clothing is optional.
What kind of party is this?!?!
John stole my comment. I suck at original thought.
Let me wrack my brain here…hmm. Oh yeah. Walking. I can’t walk without looking like a complete spazz. I lean forward and can never get a good rhythm going. I am the opposite of a model walking on a runway. I’m all awkward and trip constantly. It’s a wonder I don’t fall down more.
I have to say I find this fascinating. Do you find that this is true only in certain shoes, or in general? And actually I think the “runway walk” is inane. They put one foot directly in front of the other. I don’t know how THEY don’t trip and fall all the time. It must be because they weigh almost nothing.
It’s definitely in general. I am a huge klutz. Just very awkward and the opposite of graceful. I’d trip over a blade of grass.
this is a great idea and I will join you in talking about all things I blow donk at later on. First, gotta do stuff, and then more stuff.
Go do stuff, and then come back and share with us all the things you blow donk at. Even if it’s just so we can use the expression “blow donk” a few more times.
i’m working on it. but my allergies blow donk so i’m having a tough time bitching on here about what I blow donk at .
I can’t whistle either! I wonder if it’s why I don’t like hearing people whistle — hearing whistling is like nails on a board to me.
I don’t mind hearing other people whistling, as long as it’s an actual tune and not just random atonal whistling. That drives me batshit crazy.
Madame Weebles,
I will never show pics of these boxes to my kids. Knowing that their favourite toy can be destroyed so easily by a friend of mine would terrorize them more than when I sleep under their beds in clown costume.
I suck at sucking. And I am eloquent about it, too.
Le Clown
I try to be more careful with boxes that the Weeblettes might want, because their needs come first. Cats need boxes. But overall I’m pretty destructive around any sort of packaging.
You sleep under your kids’ beds in your clown costume? That’s horrifying. You should always wash off your makeup before going to bed. Your skin needs to breathe.
There was some news on using botox to prevent poker tells. I don’t think it would work to be fair and I don’t want to try it.
Whassup, PokerLife? I think I’ve read something about botox to prevent poker tells too. But I think I’d need to botox my entire body, and that could pose some bigger problems than just a tell.
Dang, Madame! Thank you so much for the ‘him’! You sure don’t suck at being kind! Or making my day… er week… er month er…
And we all know you are being far too modest regarding your ‘artsy skillz’. People who say that sort of thing are often some of the most talented. And (not that I would know), but much of it is a technical thing… silly amounts of practice (which is why in 50 years or so I’m convinced I’ll be rendering nearly… passable… 3-D cubes).
Also a list of things I suck at would be a l-o-n-g list. And I’d have to use my words. Which I suck at.
I can draw you a stick figure if you want, Sig, I guarantee it will suck, and not in a good way.
Weebs,
The box opening deficiency must be very frustrating for the Weeblettes. If they’re anything like my boys, when a box comes, especially one big enough for them to even consider squeezing their bodies into, they wait with great anticipation until they can fight over it. For the sake of your cats, dear Weebs, please! Wait until Mr. Weebles gets home!
Cathy
Fortunately we have many boxes that have survived intact, Cathy—the Weeblettes are just like Leo and Cielo, if there’s a box, they must be in it!
Madame, you and I do have a few things in common. However the whistling thing is not one of them. But the box thing, and the arithmetic thing, and the face/feelings thing…yes to all three. Other things I’m not good at include, but are not limited to: keeping the covers nice on the bed, making the bed, organizing my stuff, organizing other peoples stuff, putting things back where they belong, not getting distracted while I’m doing all of the above, talking about these “problems” with other people who would like me to do them “better”.
Oh, POOH on people who want you to do those things “better.” Just tell them to shut the fuck up and then whistle a happy tune. Because you can DO that!
yeah. fuck em.
When I was a kid I loved drawing so much I wanted to be a cartoonist and later, an animator, but life and my mother got in the way of those brilliant ideas. You did not mention sucking at singing or playing an instrument, so I’ll assume that you sing opera like a grand diva you’re the master (mistress?) of what — the harp, the bassoon, the tuba? I have no musical talent whatsoever. I can only drop a tune.
You can draw?? That’s so cool! Mother and life notwithstanding, do you still draw? I do not sing–I mean, I can carry a tune, but I don’t sing unless I’m singing along to a song I really love. I always liked the idea of being in a chorus or something, but I don’t have the vocal range. I did play the piano back in the day, and I was pretty good at it, but my fingers are really rusty now.
I haven’t drawn anything in years so I’m very rusty at that.
its not boxes for me it the hard plastic they pack things these days, I normally end up resorting to a knife and afterwards sticking plasters
That sounds familiar too—I’ve mangled my fingers doing that as well. They package those things to withstand a nuclear blast, obviously.
French braiding.
I suck at that too, java. On myself or on anyone else. Can’t do it. It’s like magic when I see someone who does a good French braid.
I can’t do math in my head either. I freeze. That is why you will never find me at a Blackjack Table in Vegas. Even with my shoes off, there aren’t enough fingers and toes to add up to 21. Plus, the pit boss keeps saying, “Ms. Coyle, your feet are presenting a health hazard. Please put on your shoes.”
HA! You’re funny, Robin. For some reason I’m okay with playing blackjack, except when I’ve got more than 3 cards. Then I start: “Okay, that’s 6, plus 2…plus…7….plus 3…is….????” And this is where people with six fingers and/or toes really have the advantage. You know, aside from the whole pit boss probably telling them to put their shoes back on too.
The angry glares from fellow card-players is off-putting while I frantically count in my head. I try to look scheming, but it comes off as moronic.
I totally suck at sewing! I suck at singing, but I like to sing…I’m a sing like nobody’s listening person (lol) my husband usually covers his ears. I feel your pain on the opening thing…I had a pkg of burrito shells out the other day…I’m struggling like hell trying not to rip it open and my husband comes over and says, “Here try this end…ya’ know the one end that says ‘Open Here’…”
Your husband and Mr. Weebles could commiserate, Chica B. And I suck at sewing too—not that I’ve really ever done more than sew a button or try to close a ripped seam, but I suck that them too. My grandmother was a seamstress—I did not inherit her skills. I’m not sure whether my singing sucks or not, to be honest—I can carry a tune but that doesn’t mean I sound good. I think it’s great that you sing like nobody’s listening, though! Go you!
I can’t whistle, I can’t do ANYTHING to do with math…or numbers of any kind, I can’t climb a fence or jump over anything higher than a foot off the ground, and I can’t do an impression of Nixon. Apparently, that is THE impression that gets you places…I NEVER KNEW…see? I SUCK!
The impression of Nixon, eh? I had no idea—no wonder I’m not in the upper echelons of society, I can’t imitate him either. I suck at the jumping thing too—whenever I watch sports and see some guy leaping several feet into the air, I think, how the FUCK do they do that???
I can do anything I set my mind to. Now, I believe that and won’t let anyone convince me otherwise. But there are a few things that I am less competent at, like ice skating. Maybe it is because an ice skating ring is a bit of a strange thing in South Africa, it being a sub tropical climate and all. And maybe it is because I have weak ankles from all those high heels (I am just over 5 feet tall/short). And I really am not extremely good or even moderately good or even acceptable at most sports accept for dancing. Other than that I am just dandy and can do anything!
That works out pretty well then—no real need to do ice skating or sports, so you’re good to go for everything, Gertie!
I can never finish a task without being distracted by something else! I’ve never been able to hit a ball with a bat oh and I can’t resist a packet of crisps….there’s plenty of stuff I can do though
So no cricket for you then, eh?
I suck at resisting packets of crisps/potato chips/whatever too. Kryptonite, I tell you.
No cricket, no rounders, no baseball….but hockey and rugby oh hell yeah! They are, no matter the flavour, no matter the size…but ohhh smokey bacon walkers mmmm good job the shops shut now or I’d be out on a scrounge!
My morning is better now that you, your face, and your mad box skillz have made me chortle out loud. I guess by definition, a chortle is “out loud”. Well, I guess, so is a laugh. But no one would understand if you just wrote “l”. But I digress…
I suck at many many many many many many many things. Many. I suck at self discipline and impulse control. I suck at stress. I suck at running. I suck at sitting up straight. I suck at cooking. I suck at mornings. I suck at pet ownership. I suck at shopping. I suck at meeting new people. I suck at manners. I suck at concentration. I suck at homemaking.
But I draw ok, and I’m pretty nice to people. So there’s that.
I don’t suck at knowing good people when I see them. I’m looking at you, Weebs. xox
You know, you’ve brought up a very interesting point. LOL *is* a redundant term. People don’t laugh silently, usually, right? But if you’re going to go to the trouble of telling someone that you’re LOL’ing, you may as well be descriptive about it and use acronyms for the various levels of LOL’ing—the Chortle Out Loud (ChortOL, to avoid confusion with the Cackle Out Loud, CackOL), the Guffaw Out Loud (GOL), the Giggle Out Loud (GiggOL), the Tee Hee Out Loud (THOL), and so on.
Meanwhile, that’s quite a long list of suckage. I share much of your list. I suck at mornings too (poor Mr. Weebles). And the self-discipline, impulse control, stress, running, and sitting up straight.
But you do more than okay at drawing, my dear. And you are extremely kind. And I know that you and I do NOT suck at list making. So there.
I can’t draw at all or open boxes or envelopes, just like you my dear Madame Weebles. However, I also struggle to show the full spectrum of human emotion. Anything beyond anger, sarcasm and extreme happiness is a complete mystery to me! I occasionally get small aspects of the others correct but…who cares?
Well, let’s see: anger, sarcasm and extreme happiness. You’ve got all the important ones covered, Bennie—the others are fine but they’re like gravy, not the main course!
I can’t remember peoples names, very embarrassing made more so by the fact that I can usually remember their dog’s name. And my stick figures usually look like their were born with a physical deformity.
If it wasn’t for spell check and Mirriam-Webster people would suspect that I hadn’t graduated from the third grade.
You remember the dogs’ names but not their owners’ names? That’s AWESOME. You’re a woman with her priorities in order, sister!! Your stick figures and my stick figures could probably be friends. Because everyone else would be afraid of them.
I suck at facebook and twitter because they also suck and I don’t want to be good at something that sucks. I also suck at not keeping my mouth shut when my boss says or does something moronic which happens at least once a day. That explains a lot…
I’m with you, Red. I’m not good at keeping my mouth shut either. It goes along with the no-poker-face deal.
On top of the drawing and math thing, I also can not EVER get the gas pump to stop on a solid even number like $20.00. $20.01 EVERY SINGLE TIME.
If I drove, and thus, had an opportunity to fill a car’s gas tank, I’d be all over trying to get it at exactly $20 too. I think it must be the gas pump fucking with you. It’s not your fault, it’s the pump.
Worse than boxes? Potato bags or any bag with that demonic string sewn into it. Every now and then, you’ll pull the end just right and it just comes — zwoop! — sliding out. It happens just enough times to make you think you can do it every time. But you gawdam can’t! You just make the string tighter! AAAAGH! Knife! Stab! Tear! I’ll get you, my little string! And your little tab too!
Hiya Ross! And welcome to the club of People Who Cannot Open Evil Packages. I think they do it on purpose, creating “easy-open” packaging just to fuck with us. Those bastards.
Madame, it is not you, it’s them. The packages. I determined this just this past Saturday when I was trying to serve first boxed cereal and later frozen lasagna to my guests (I am NOT adding to my list of things I can’t do by adding “cook” because I can unless you stay more than 3 days. Then cooking is added to my list of “I WON’Ts”).
Anyway, we thought we needed two packages of lasagna but it was too big. Naturally we shredded the box in between. Now there is a totally torn up box in my freezer, covered in tin foil which I will not identify for months and months until I need another meal for long-staying guests. Then I will have to buy one because this one will have been ruined.
Oh, and the dog ate the cereal which flew all over the floor when I tried to open the hermetically sealed plastic package inside the Cheerios box.
Foiled again!
Yes, there is a huge difference between things you won’t and can’t do. I’m with you there. Those hermetically sealed cereal bags are Satan’s work. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sent Cocoa Puffs flying across the floor.
I’ve done it so many times it makes me coo-coo
I am terrible at math, which is why my contest is so comical. They’re taking my word that I can add up their points correctly. Granted, they’re also taking my word that the points mean anything period, but still. As far as poker faces go, my mother says when I’m caught in a lie I look like a deer in headlights. So much for that.
You’ve been posting? Fuck the WP reader, you haven’t been showing up in mine. I’ll have to go and visit you now to see what I’ve missed. Yeah, I’m not a good liar and the non-poker face doesn’t help. I guess we’ll never be poker champs.
I’m an accountant and I SUCK at math. I use a calculator for everything. Everyone always looks at me when the bill comes. Thankfully, the Masshole knows I will just make a mess of it or offer to pay for it to avoid looking like a total stooge.
I’m horrible at wrapping gifts. I used to not cut enough paper to cover the entire item. Now I overdo it and cut WAY too much paper, leaving me with ridiculous amounts to cut off after the fact. The finished product usually looks like it was wrapped by someone who was in a horrible accident and is just regaining their motor skills.
Ha, you and Jiltaroo, both accountants who suck at math! I think that’s funny. Good thing the Masshole knows to intercept the bill, is she good at math? I’m having fun imagining your wrapped gifts, looking all lumpy and weird. I find those sorts of packages endearing. Maybe it’s precisely because they do look like they’ve been done by people who’ve sustained horrific injuries.
She’s good at math but our circle of friends is starting to believe she’s just crafty at math. Making math favorable to her needs. She once replied to a friend who asked for change for a twenty by saying, “I have 18.” He took it and then wondered aloud how many times she gets away with that.
I should take a photo of a wrapped gift and blog about it. Lord knows, I need all the blogging ideas I can get!
I’m terrible at gift wrapping. I give everyone their Christmas gifts in a sealed Fed-EX envelope with their name written on it with a sharpie. I also cannot program a universal remote to save my life.
If I ever meet someone who can program a universal remote, I’m giving them some sort of medal, because I don’t know ANYONE who can do it. Do you at least put a bow on your FedEx envelopes? Because then it’s still festive.
I know – I still need three to work the TV in the front room. No bow but I do draw tiny holly leaves.
No poker-face here either – makes being let out in public something of a hazard sometimes; and – like artsifrtsy, gift wrapping… Christmas makes me anxious…
The no-poker face can be a challenge, Janet, I know. Being in public just raises the potential for encountering a situation where you SHOULD have a poker face, but can’t. Sucks. I say have someone wrap your gifts for you, or just give your gifts to people with just a bow–no muss, no fuss.
Brilliant post
I must show you my respect for the math thing! I am so bad at math. And cooking. If I hadn’t have my mom I would starve to death. Or poison myself.
Hi Scarlett! So glad you’re here! Eh, cooking and math are overrated skills these days, with the calculators and ready-made dinners and mothers who cook!
Poker face during poker = Good.
Poker face during sex = Bad
Looking forward to the Weebs party. Is it another ‘come as your favorite nude Magi’ Xmas party?
Having a poker face during sex would be very very bad. And yeah, I thought last year’s “come as your favorite nude Magi” party was such a big hit that it just made sense to do it again. That one guy as Balthazar was a little scary, but it was still fun, right?
I’m coming as Melchior this year. It’s gonna rock.
Awesome. Melchior was always my favorite.
Hmm, good question. I generally suck at cooking. Maybe it would change if I’d try something more, but the first time I made pasta almost went wrong. Seriously. But it’s more a lack of knowledge… I’ll think about this though. I’ll return as soon as I know the answer(s).
I await your reply!
Spending my time useful! A total fail. However much work there is to do, I still manage to waste it all.
That’s a tough one, NBI. I haven’t managed to really manage my time well either. There’s just so many interesting things to BESIDES what I’m supposed to be doing.
And what you should be doing, is mostly not that interesting…
Thank you for supporting the notion I’m forming that, while everyone is a bundle of MASSIVE potential, there are some avenues along which that potential just cannot flow, depending upon the individual. It makes me a little sad to think that my wife I will never get a grip on the mystery of dishing out a helm-top nor satisfactorily comprehend the rules of Bridge, Whist or Gin Rummy (which I assume are not all the same thing), but I’m sure some of the skills I have will enable trade with armourers and card-players as need arises.
Okay, I give up: I’ve been trying to figure out what a helm-top is, and I have no idea. What is it?? I know what you mean about the card games—I’m okay with card games but chess eludes me. I know the very basics of how to play, but I have no patience, and no aptitude, for anything else about it. I never will.
http://ironmongerarmory.com/build-your-own/dishing-forms-build-your-own
If I have to make my own, I’m stuck with a the barrel helm. Fortunately, it doesn’t come up too much these days.
So you’re trying to make your own helm. I’m learning a lot about you, sir.
You and I could be twins. When my girls were little they would ask me to draw something, a horse and I would hand them some absolutely ridiculously bad drawing and even at 2 years old they would sigh and just do it themselves.
Friends have been known to say to me, “You know, people can see your face.” Nice.
I can’t bake. I can but it won’t taste good.
I laughed when I read “You know, people can see your face,” because a friend of mine said almost those exact words to me while we were in a meeting at work one day. I couldn’t hide my disgust. And it’s sad when 2-year-olds draw better than we do, but hey, we have other skills.
Ironing. That may not sound bad, but you should see my ironing pile. People think I’m a sane person, and then they see it, and they start back and look at me wild-eyed, and they say “Jeez, Kate!” (Yes, even though they’re largely British) – “Jeez, Kate, you need to get some help for that thing!”
It has an unsettling organic quality to it.
So does that mean you create more wrinkles than you remove? Because that’s how I iron. I find it just easier to walk around wearing wrinkled clothing.
I absolutely CANNOT wrap presents.
Hi Susan!! There seems to be a lot of that, people who can’t wrap presents. I can wrap packages decently. Not great, but decently enough. But I can see how it would be something that a lot of people have difficulty with. There but for the grace of God go I…
Nice boxes. I tend to make a mess opening the bag for a packet of cereal.
I cannot skate or skateboard either. My feet are better on firm ground.
Yup. I’m familiar with the cereal package mess. Cereal gets sprayed all over the counter, and then I can never get the bag back in the box properly. I also cannot skateboard, and I skate very badly. If humans had been designed to move that way, we would have been born with wheels/blades.
Cereal packets should come with tape to put the bag back together again. Alternatively they could just design a bag that is easier to open.
Surely that would be too simple and reasonable.
I suck at applying makeup. Truly hopeless. Sort of Joker meets drag queen, which is why I avoid it when I can.
I like that description, Joker meets drag queen. Very vivid. I can see why you’d avoid it then. Maybe you could do costume makeup for people!
Hey, we all have our faults! (But you did attack those boxes like a mental patient.)
I just discovered that I suck at making baloon animals. “Behold!” I announced to my son last night. “Here’s a dog with no back legs ’cause I ran outta baloon! Let us call him gimpy and give the poor fellow a good home!”
Then Gimpy’s face exploded.
To be fair, those aren’t actually boxes that I butchered personally, but mine look pretty much exactly like that. Yeah. Poor Gimpy. RIP, buddy. You may not make great balloon animals but your drawings and stamps are the shiz-nit.
Weebly, you are so funny that you make me almost piss my pants. But at my age, that’s becoming less and less difficult. I love you and I’m sure you are awesome at all the things that count. hehehe…sorry….my mind just goes there automatically.
Goes where? Goes where?
The ghettos of gutterville.
I *THOUGHT* so. Just checking.
And did I let you down? I didn’t think so. You’re welcome.
You are a great instigator. I know this because you got me to use language I reserve for the gas powered cell phones on the roads here in TX. Those boxes! You’re fucking hilarious…see there I go again. Plus you’ve got that double jointed eyebrow thing going for you!
Look at you, cursing. I’m so proud of you. I’m raising one eyebrow in salute, Honie.
I was reading all of the great comments here telling things people suck at and looked over at my husband sitting across the desk from me and asked, “What do I suck at?” (because I didn’t want to be left out of the fun you are having) According to he who knows me well, I suck at baking bread. Not exactly baking it, just heating it. Dinner rolls. I always burn the dinner rolls. That’s all he had…he loves me. Oh, but the cracking the egg thing…yeah I suck at that too. He doesn’t know it, but many an omelet around the Briggs house has had tiny shards of eggshell in it…shhhhh.
You and I have much in common.
And this was a funny post!
Hello Sandy! Thank you!! You have suckage in these same areas, eh?
I suck at patience.. I have no patience and no poker face either. Math? No skills period.. and I really suck at comments but you already know that
Ugh. Patience. I don’t understand people who have patience—it’s just not in my nature at all. And I strenuously disagree that you suck at comments.
I cannot sing, skate, recognize what clothes look good on me, or let myself go completely to enjoy a moment. If I think about this much longer, I’ll come up with an even longer list. And then I’ll feel like crap. I’d better stop here!
Oh, JM, I have those too, the inability to recognize what clothes look good on me, and the inability to completely let go and enjoy a moment. What’s our deal???
I open this early in the morning before leaving for work, I couldn’t read it till now and right on time, I needed a good laugh before going to bed.
Excellent. Then my work here is done.
I love the image of a “fuck you” cartoon bubble over your head. I’m not very good at hiding my facial expressions. The best I can do is a frozen smile. I suck at quite a bit. I don’t understand dimensions. You might as well say something is three pie tins long because it’s meaningless. I have no sense of direction. I can’t operate the heating system in my house.
Frozen smiles are about as much as I can hope for too. Dimensions are not my strong suit either, but I can generally grasp the idea of the size as long as it’s not in metric. My sense of direction used to be much better. Nowadays I have no idea whether I’m facing north or south or sideways or whatever. It’s an overrated skill. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Are you sure we are not related? I cannot do any of those things except I can roll my ‘R’s… I also suck at gardening – I have about 3 months of enthusiasm for most things …
My husband calls me Denise The Animal Steel because I have a habit of just using brute force when opening anything…I pulled the door handle off a car once and we almost got into a car accident b/c we both started laughing so hard.
I had to drop my ‘art’ 101 class in college b/c I couldn’t draw the ‘negative’ spaces in bike sculpture – it made me cry… I had to take art history b/c I’m a complete nerd.
And I add on my fingers ~ and I use math for my job… but I can do it – just not fast.
I guess if we’re related you can’t marry me …
We can just live in sin then, how about that?
The “Denise the Animal Steel” line is a good ‘un. That’s funny. I would have loved to have seen you ripping off that car door handle. It’s impressive, to say the least. I too have only about 3-4 months of enthusiasm for things, then I lose interest. It can be frustrating at times. I envy your ability to roll your r’s. I really wish I could.
I am a linguaphile (who can’t spellleeell it) –
But living in sin is just fine ~
I am pretty much convinced that that particular car had leprosy – I’d touch something and it would fall off –
I am completely unable to crack eggs without getting some shell in them. The thing is, I bake A LOT so this would be a great skill for me to acquire. But alas, it’s never gonna happen. I have a terrible poker face too.
Cracking eggs is a pain, isn’t it? I often get shell in there too—it doesn’t annoy me as much since I learned that you can use a larger piece of eggshell to “lure” the piece of shell out.
We have something in common–I can’t draw to save my life. I used to be embarrassed in art class, because my projects were so horrible. It was really quite humiliating. Probably scarred me for life. Or maybe the scar was from the drawing pencil I accidentally stabbed myself with…
I’m not sure how I managed to get through art class because I was pretty bad too. I hope your drawing pencil wasn’t too sharp when you accidentally stabbed yourself–I kept accidentally breaking the points of my pencils. It was sad.
Let me see: I suck at twitter and cell phones. Baking. Brain calculating. Remembering shit. Keeping track of my keys. Game strategy, including anything video game related. It makes my thumbs cry. Dexterity in general.
But I can parallel park like a mofo and I am freaky good at estimating volumes, which makes me a really good wingman for shopping at Bulk Barn.
Mr. Giraffe is so bad at drawing that he once drew a baby and his dad got mad at him because he thought it was a penis. True story.
I couldn’t resist, I just read the part about Mr. Giraffe’s baby/penis drawing to Mr. Weebles, who laughed out loud. I’m not great at game strategy either. I always sucked at playing Risk. And you don’t have to be good at baking—for all you know, maybe you’ll get a care package of baked goods soon.
I like mystery packages!
I should clarify that the penisbaby drawing happened last year, so he couldn`t even blame underdeveloped pen skills or anything.
Okay, that makes it even funnier.
I also cannot draw or whistle (except once in a very long while), but I am VERY good at opening boxes – I have to open them for hubby & everyone else I spend time with. But I am not good at opening bags – I always tear them completely down the side & not on purpose. I do not enjoy wrapping gifts hence they are not so nicely done while hubby wraps beautiful gifts.
You have box-opening skills? You should hold seminars—obviously there are many of us who require training. I destroy bags as well as boxes, so I know what you mean about tearing them completely down the side. Been there, done that. I like wrapping gifts but only up to a point. Then I get bored. Sounds like you have a nice setup, having a hub who wraps beautifully. You should rent him out, you’d make a fortune.
Do you want to hire him? I’ll give you an excellent rate if you keep him for a while!
Madame Weebles,
A few months ago I would have said finishing just about anything…………distractability and poorly controlled impulses have always disrupted projects. Now I am wondering if I just haven’t explored enough distractions impulsively.
RR
That’s an interesting way of looking at it–may as well turn it into a positive. Or, maybe the projects just weren’t as interesting as the distractions. So maybe the projects just sucked at being compelling enough.
Madame, I can’t believe this, but I suck at all the same things! That’s quite amazing. I can roll by r’s, but I don’t speak a second language so I don’t think it matters. I’ll add, I’m not that good at organizing. Mr. Bumble does that one!
A sister from another mister! You know, except for the r’s. It’s good that you have Mr. Bumble for organizing—it’s all about balance. Yin and Yang, organization, disorganization, box openers, box destroyers. It’s all good.
The boxes thing!!!! My ex-boyfriend used to joke that I turned into Wolverine whenever I’d try to open a box. Don’t even get me started on Macaroni and Cheese boxes with their lying little “push here” tab.
All those bullshit “push here” tabs, those “open here” perforations. They can fuck themselves. “Easy-open package” my ASS.
I’m not too bad with the boxes, but I am getting woefully tired of finding food on my shirt after every freakin’ meal. So, I’m obviously not very good at using a fork. … And I’m so tragically behind with reading blogs, but I seem to remember something about mashed potatoes here recently. It was 8:00 last evening, and I made mashed potatoes with a ton of butter and lots of milk, and piled them into a bowl. I topped them with cheddar cheese and wondered if Madame Weebles would approve. When I was done, there were little bits of mashed potatoes – (or MASH TA! as they can be known around here) – on my shirt.
Oooooooh. Mashed potatoes + milk + butter + cheddar cheese = nirvana. HELL YEAH I approve!!!
It’s not just you with boxes. The ones with a “tear hear” thing do my head in. I’d really much rather just take a pair of scissors or a knife to the sellotape/seam because it’s less messy and stressful.
I can’t run up stairs. Any time recently that I have tried to go up stairs at anything faster than a walk, I’ve fallen over.
I can never remember anything useful either. I can remember random rubbish like quotes from movies and things, but things I need like people’s birthdays and so on, no.
That happens to me too—I can remember quotes from movies and television, info in articles from cheesy magazines, but important stuff doesn’t necessary stay in my brain. I can’t run up the stairs either, but mainly because I get winded and I hate that feeling. But it is hard to run up stairs without catching a shoe on a riser. And I *should* just use scissors on boxes and bags, but for some reason I stubbornly resist.
The really embarrassing thing around here is that whenever I’m having to go up or down stairs in a hurry, there’s nearly always someone there to watch me flail and flop. Heck, there are days I can’t even walk over a flat surface without tripping over my own feet – which is really really annoying. I think the problem is that everyone expects nuns to be super graceful and I’m just super clumsy.
Let’s see… like FaithHopeChocolate, it’s stairs I can’t do. I can go up, but not down.
I suck at using the word vagina in a sentence, and being funny. Can you use suck and vagina in the same sentence? Even I don’t know.
I’m sure plenty of people use the words “suck” and “vagina” in the same sentence. We did too! I don’t mind using the word “vagina” in a sentence but using the word “poon” is funnier.
You are right, and funny.
Unrelated, this morning I realized I also suck at ironing.
I do as well. I create far more wrinkles than I remove.
You made a Helen Keller joke… nice.
I’ll be honest with you, Soul Walker, at first I wasn’t sure I wanted to go there with the Helen Keller joke. I thought it might be too soon. But then I decided to just throw caution to the wind and be edgy.
I suck at being a head of cabbage. Never got the hang of that….
That IS a tough one, Cooper. Lettuce is a little easier but not by much. If that’s the only thing you suck at, though, you’re in pretty good shape.
I really suck at keeping my emotional reaction to crapola in check. My mother called it my “eat shit and die” look. I used to think that over the years I’d finally developed a wall of disception for my bullshit meter, but I’ve recently been called on it…more than once. So, now I ask to not be invited to meetings. Sadly, the truth is not well tolerated these days. EXCEPT, in Weebleland
Oh, Nikki, I feel your pain. I have that same problem. You can’t help it, right? The disdain just seeps out of your pores, there’s nothing you can do. I’ve been called on it as well. I’ve tried to reel it in but so far not much luck. But of course you can ALWAYS let it all hang out here in Weebleland!
What do you mean, you suck at opening boxes? If they look like your pictures, you opened the HELL outta those boxes. You are one kick-ass box opener!
I suck at interior design. I discovered this after taking a 4-year degree program, writing a (sucky) thesis, and working in the industry for 12 long years. Some of us are slow learners. But then I discovered my true calling as a computer geek, and I’m all better now. *Interior Design Association heaves a collective sigh of relief*
I hadn’t thought of it that way, Diane. I guess if we’re just talking about the actual goal of getting the box open, then yes, I really am a master. If we’re talking about getting the box open AND being able to close it again, then not so much.
I don’t think I’d fare any better at interior design than you. I wouldn’t know what made a good layout, or a good room, or good flow, or anything. Glad you found your true calling, though—better late than never! And really, what’s so great about interior design, anyway? In the future we’ll all be living in pods and wearing silver jumpsuits, so it will be obsolete, right?
My friend once wrapped another friend’s present in a box that was inside another box that was inside another. Each box was separately covered in duct tape. The present was a gift card. I think you could have gotten to that gift card extremely fast with your superhuman strength. At least, it looks like you have superhuman strength from your pictures…
I suck at taking care of myself because I’m so busy taking care of everyone else.
That’s diabolical, wrapping a gift card like that. Genius, but diabolical. Those boxes weren’t mine, to be honest, but they look pretty much like the ones I mangle, so I probably would have destroyed a gift wrapped like your friend’s gift. And I know it’s tough to remember to take care of yourself when you’re looking after others—not to mention when you’re baking so many goodies. But please try to remember to look after yourself as well!
I love genius but diabolical so I enjoyed every second of watching my friend unwrap his gift
Thank you, Madame Weebles
My wife laughs at me when I wrap boxes. I can open them, just not wrap them.
That seems to be a common problem, Ben, the whole box-wrapping thing. You are in good company! And besides, *unwrapping* them is more fun.
I suck at having my picture taken where I have an honest-to-goodness normal person smile on. I love getting my picture taken, but I always end up looking like I’m on a rollercoaster.
Your Gravatar photo is good! I find it difficult to just smile in photos too, but I always assumed it’s because I hate having my photo taken. So I find it comforting to know others have the same problem.
Doing up shoe laces and also sucking on boiled sweets without launching them onto my chest.
I do okay with the shoelaces, mostly, but I can see how they can pose problems. I have launched candies onto my chest as well, but fortunately my rack tends to trap them safely.
I suck at being prompt as evidenced by the fact that I am the 196th commenter.
Doesn’t matter what number you are, Curmudgeon. The important thing is that you’re here now.
Is it my imagination, or are there 179 (197?) comments before I even got to your great post above? I am consumed, green with envy! Amazing stuff, but it’s all (and I say this between gritted teeth you understand…), yes, all richly deserved. Its been far too long since i visited, forgotten how sharp & funny the writing is. (How could I forget? “Chairman Miow” etc.. for shame.) Very flattered you find time to vist my blog so loyally, wade through the epic saga-length posts and even comment so perceptively. You’re a star MW. Regards and respects, from Dublin- Arran.
Hello there Arran! I’m so happy to see you here—thank you so much for visiting. I am planning on reading your latest on Saint Patrick’s very soon and am looking forward to it. And thank you so much for the extremely kind words on my blog, please don’t be a stranger!
I suck at getting myself to bed at a reasonable time. And at remembering how to close cardboard boxes that have flaps – never remember what goes where. And I have dyscalculia and I suck at typing numbers cos my brain can’t ‘see’ where they are on the keyboard in the right order. I can add up though but, like you not in my head. And I suck at trying to remember things.
Have you been FP’d again or something? You’ve a huge number of comments here. Or are you just too popular for your own good? You’re not paying Le Clown to send his Carny minions over, are you?
Hi Val! I need to swing by your blog, I feel like my WP reader hasn’t been showing you again. I too have difficulty in going to bed at a reasonable time—always have, even as a kid. I never heard of dyscalculia, but that must be very frustrating. As for the number of comments, this is pretty much par for the course—what can I say.
Dear Madame, sounds like you and Mr. Weebles are a match made in heaven. How lucky! I’ve blocked out the stuff I suck at…besides, it keeps shifting on me, totally unreliable! xoxoM
Those resealable bags – they don’t work. It is not me. They are a lie.
They ARE a lie, Carl. I have this problem too. They don’t seal again. I usually end up either using masking tape or a binder clip or something to reseal them. Bah.
I suck at seeing things thru to their end.
Also, and those are my biggest regrets in life, I cannot whistle (either), make chewing gum balloons or spit professionally. My street cred, as you can imagine, is non-existent.
Or even lower than that.
I’m here for you, India. Street cred is important, so I understand your difficulty here. I too suck at seeing things through. I’m great at starting things, not so great at the follow-up.
I suck at being organized. I need one of those professional organizers or even a person with really bad OCD to move in with me.
Hi Miss Murals! Welcome! I always wondered about that, if having really bad OCD in the right way would be helpful in getting more organized. There’s a zillion-dollar idea in there for someone!
I cannot do anything remotely sports related. Throw something at me, and I will inevitably fumble and drop it. I can’t whistle either! For all this time I thought it was only me.
You and me both, Mo. I am a complete spaz at sports. Let’s sit next to each other at the next “Athletically Challenged People Who Can’t Whistle” club meeting.
Is one of the things you “suck at” not ending your sentences with prepositions? I’m a nerd, so I suck at not noticing stuff like that.
I also can’t draw.
One thing I suck at which I think I should be awesome at is Scrabble.
I was wondering if anyone was going to comment on my ending a sentence with a preposition. Thank God you showed up, Smak. I also suck at Scrabble. I blame the tiles.
Oh for sure–I’ve always made it a point to find blame for my failures in external sources. And it’s SO easy to do!
Oh, another thing I’m not good at is taking it after I’ve given it. So now, inevitably when you discover one of my laughable and numerous usage errors and point it out, I’ll laugh it off, but inside I’ll die a little.
I’m already sniffling thinking about it.
Isn’t it strange how easy it is for us to name negative things about ourselves? I had a job interview a few weeks ago (got the job!), and in the interview, one of them asked me to name ten positive things about myself. The interview was a grueling one, but I was doing great until this question. Ten positive things? I am a humble person, this was not easy, but somehow I managed to BS my way through the interview and actually find positive things to say about yours truly. It wasn’t easy though! Nice blog, I love the way you write!
It’s not easy, right? Also, even when you can think of things, it’s hard to know what feels positive, what feels like bragging, etc. I’m not good at that sort of thing either. But Yay for you getting the job! And thanks for the kind words—please visit again!
I can’t paddle. Like in a canoe or such like. Have tried several times on school trips, holidays, travelling trips … somehow, I am unable to travel in a straight line without going in circles continuously first. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to be towed back to safety because my efforts to paddle have somehow taken me out into dangerous waters. It seems me, brightly-coloured plastic and water just don’t go. Shame really, as I’ve always thought it looked like a lot of fun.
For some reason the line “It seems me, brightly-coloured plastic and water just don’t go” makes me laugh. Not at your being in potential danger in the water, of course. But just the idea of it being some sort of bad combo. Maybe if you accompany someone else in some sort of brightly colored water contraption, and let THEM paddle?
Tried that, but my suck-paddling mojo messes up THEIR talent. Don’t know how it happens, but it does. And every time too. It seems that the daydreams I have of myself serenely sea kayaking along beautiful stretches of coastline is going to have to stay just that. Oh, but it is a beautiful daydream.