I suck at doing shots. I love spiced rum and most vodkas even when mixed strong and I can drink a near endless amount of them but I cannot do shots of any kind of alcohol. I'll puke them right back up. It's really more of a gag reflex than anything I think. Kinda like eating something you absolutely hate, just thinking of it might make you gag. I can chug a beer like nothing though.
- I chug a beer like a hooker choking on semen -- she gets it down, but some of it comes back up, and it sure as hell ain't pretty. I was at Carlos and Charlie's and this dude was going around pouring sangria into peoples' mouths. He came to me, and when I basically tried to bolt from the chair he took that as a cue to start pouring. Cue me doing *big gulp, swallow, big gulp, swallow half, send sangria up in the air like an alcoholic volcano, big gulp, choke, repeat* and everyone laughing while I ruined a perfectly good shirt. So yeah, can't chug beer, I think because it's too cold. But I can chug wine, water, gatorade, etc. - I'm a good cook. Mainly, I like eating good food, but because I'm a tight-ass I don't feel like dropping $50+ on a meal I can make myself. I'm impressive with a knife and money on the grill. But I can't bake. People say it's easy; fuck them. There's multiple racks, unlimited temperature settings, different cooking "modes," cook times that seem to vary from oven to oven and I-forgot-to-grease-them pans to contend with. Fuck that. I can open the grill, touch my steak and feel when it is done; if it isn't done, you simply apply more fire. But if I even open the oven door to check, I singe my eyebrows off and turn the kitchen temperature into, approximately, satan's asshole. And then I have to figure the heat loss into the cook time. Fuck baking. - I'll ditto the names thing. And since I can't/won't remember your real name, I simply assign you a nickname that I find clever. Depending on my level of sobriety, you may or may not be offended by it. - Can't open a wine bottle. Seems simple, right? Well then why the fuck do I always break the corks? I used to try to pull the cork out, even after I inevitably broke it in half, but now I throw in the towel early and basically destroy the thing in order to get to the wonderful nectar it hides. I've been known to use my cordless drill in this process. - I'm a good reader, I swear, but I am terrible at instructions. Same thing goes with driving directions. I try to purchase home items, like shelves or patio crap, unassembled. It's usually cheaper. But at this point, I don't even bother with the instructions. They just derail and confuse me. And as far as driving directions, well, I just figure getting lost into my driving time. - Folding clothes. Seriously, how do people do this?
I have zero study skills. I can't take notes, I can't sit down and focus on school work for more than 5 minutes. I have the attention span of a goldfish. Add to it that I procrastinate like a motherfucker, and man, it makes my school life about 100 times harder than it should be.
My current job has taught me I can't count money for the life of me. I come up with a different count every time I go through the till. I am an English prodigy, why must basic math be so hard?
When an opportunity comes for me to tell someone to fuck off, I routinely blow it. I went to get some food at a taco joint and ordered the same thing that I always get. They call my number, and I notice that one of the two tacos is not what I ordered. I go up to the counter and have the following conversation with the woman who took my order: _RL: Hi, I ordered green chili pork taco but got fried avocado taco instead. I think there is a mistake. Woman: No, you ordered the fried avocado taco. _RL: Actually, I am 100% certain that I ord... Woman: No, you said that you wanted a fried avocado taco with extra queso. That is exactly what you ordered! _RL: .... At this point, I am about to throw my basket of tacos in this woman's face. But I just muttered "Whatever" and went to my table to eat something that I didn't order, because I was too much of a pussy to tell her that she shouldn't interrupt her customers when they are trying to explain that she did screw up my order. Why I didn't bitch her out in front of everyone is beyond me, and it makes me even more mad as I type this. So, I guess I suck at not being a pussy.
At around 12 30pm today I woke up to a wonderful, sunny day. Made a cup of coffee, and checked around the kitchen for something to eat for breakfast. Decided on a bowl of cereal and went outside to sit in the sun while I ate. Then I proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes wiping milk from my chin. Yea. I am a fucking retard and I cannot eat cereal without milk spilling down my chin. Soup? Fine. Cereal, and I look like a retarded one-year-old. I suck at eating cereal. As for the more problematic, I am absolutely awful at making small talk. I can literally sit through an entire meal with another person without saying so much as "should we get going?" at the end of it, and not minding at all. I can sit with friends at a bar and not say anything until I have something to add to the conversation. I just have no idea what to say. It's not that I'm afraid of joining in on a conversation, give me a specific topic and I'll get in on it. But if I meet someone without having something specific to talk about I'll stand there like a goldfish and hope that I the other person says something I can tag along with, after the required "how are you? My name is-" Etc. My friends are used to it by now, but I realise how akward I can make situations because of this. I am beginning to think this is a culture thing, though. I have been taught from an early age that if I don't have something interesting/contributing/important to add, then I should shut the fuck up. To fully illustrate how big of an impact this has had on me, I spent about 3 minutes deciding if I should post this. Fuck it.
Sudoku. I'm really, really good at word puzzles & games (crosswords, scrambles, Scrabble etc.), but numbers, not so much. Technology. I'm impatient and easily frustrated, and I believe Bill Gates is the anti-Christ and Microsoft is the amassing of his minions to cast darkness upon humanity. Auto mechanics. Opening the hood is akin to walking into a jungle in SE Asia. Drinking. I can't do it like a normal person.
My most embarrassing and inconvenient flaw is my utter lack of anything resembling a sense of direction. I was once 3 hours late back from a meeting to work due to getting hopelessly lost - the meeting was only 30 minutes drive away. My housemate is similarly afflicted, so watching the two of us try to puzzle our way to our destination is roughly like watching two birds attempting to bowl. This is linked to my inability to see detail further away than a computer screen. Trying to read streetsigns is hopeless, as is picking out landmarks. Basically, if I was to attempt Man v Wild shenanigans, I'd be eaten by a bear on the first night - and I don't even think Australia has bears, excluding the drop variety. Oh, and I can't maintain a healthy relationship, although I can end the fuck out of an unhealthy one. What really amazes me though are people who are unable to flip coins. This seems to be a genetic deficiency which requires two X chromosomes to propagate, but beyond that I don't understand it. How can you not be able to flip a coin? All you need is an opposable thumb! At least 4 of my friends are like this, and it makes me laugh and pity them at the same time.
I also don't remember names or birthdays very well, but that seems to be pretty normal. One thing I can't seem to do which is strange is visualize things in my mind. When people talk about "seeing with their mind's eye," it's a foreign concept to me. I know what things look like but it's not like I'm seeing a picture in my mind. This makes it difficult for me to draw or describe what things look like. I've run into a few people with this problem so I'm not completely unique.
I can't hammer a nail. I consider myself mechanically inclined. I have pulled several engines from cars/trucks, I do all of my own maintenance besides deep engine and transmission work, I will try to work on just about anything so I am no stranger to tools. I am fairly coordinated too. I can hit a baseball, golf ball, throw, catch, whatever. When I use an axe, I can hit the same spot repeatedly with no problem. Put a hammer in my hand and I go full retard. Don't understand it. I also suck at any form of writing that isn't technical and straight to the point. This post probably took me 20 minutes to write because the first attempt read like Robert Hamburger with autism. And the revision isn't much better.
I cannot shoot a basketball one-handed to save my life. When I played rec ball, my coaches would always try to teach me, but I could never do it, and still can't. I do shoot the ball very well when I use both hands, so it usually worked out in the end, but I am thinking that I could shoot even better if I could do it one-handed.
I can't throw or jump or catch. I sucked at basketball, baseball, football, soccer, hell anything that is popular. I'm an awful carpenter. I can carve out gunstocks but I can't build a decent workbench or stool. I suck at not immediately recognizing what is left or right sometimes.
I can't hack squat. Well, I can, but I do it like a pansy. I don't understand it. My other lifts are good, my squat is actually getting great, but when I go to hack squat my muscles unanimously tell me to go get bent. I also have a hard time making the flip from second base to first. I can gun it from shortstop and even make a reasonable attempt, maybe a one hopper, from third. But trying to just flip it from second base leaves me looking like I have palsy.
I suck at being part of a group. Like, some people make friends and that is their goddamn crew. They ride for those people, to borrow hip-hop terminology. I'm kind of a floater - I'm a part of a bunch of social circles, but I don't really form super close ties to many of them, and I fall out of touch with people extremely easily. Either you're my blood brother or you're my acquaintance. And my own twin brother isn't part of the former group, so that should tell you something.
Assembling IKEA furniture. Just typing those 3 words took some of the shine off my afternoon. Why? Why can't I assemble a 2ft high chest of drawers or a 3 piece desk? I took carpentry in high school, and have basic woodworking skills. I can saw, and plane, and sand, and varnish. Yet I have 3 boxes of Ikea shit in my shed, because I got halfway through building them and then had to pack them away while sobbing and wishing I owned a proper pair of testicles. I swear to Christ there is some sick, twisted fuck sitting in middle management at Ikea who takes the perfect assembly instructions submitted by his engineers and makes one or two subtle changes to make building the fucking thing against the laws of physics. I could paint two sides of a Mobius strip before I could use their hook connectors. Arghh. I'm enraged just thinking about it. Meanwhile, the 17year old Swedish childmolesting* antichrist that founded Ikea is busy using his untold millions to improve the world, reduce pollution, and fulfill his dream of having every Ikea store run on renewable energy. I can't even hate him because he's too fucking wholesome. *Note: he is not actually a child molester, I just hate him for the emasculation I feel every time I pick up a screwdriver.
I suck at being the girlfriend the parents like. I'm a great girlfriend, but fuck all if I've ever dated a guy and had his parents like me. I suck at double unders. I suck at willpower. I'd rather work harder than not eat cupcakes. I suck at being that southern belle sweet mean. I'm either nice, or I'm mean. I'm not duplicitous like that at all. I'm really not clever, and I suck at trying to BE clever or funny or witty, whatever it is. If I make a funny comment, it's almost guaranteed to be unintentional. I suck at dynos. I'm too much a pussy to make the jump and commit. I'd rather find a way to static the move. And right now I suck at growing my hair out.
I suck at coming on here, being a member and posting shit. There's not much to read about myself and nothing interesting for me to say. My life isn't as interesting as ya'lls crazy "i dun fucked da bitch an said a Tucker Max quote w/o callin her bakkk" stories. I couldn't even come up with something good enough if I lied (like a tiny few of you on here) about it and wrote a rough draft. Sure there's bars out here and sure, my friends and I take some bong hits every once in a while, but that's about as interesting or as less "suck" as life out here can get. I suck at cleaning too. Sweep? You mean that brush with a handle that always leaves a trail of crap when I am handling it? I also suck at finding a way to end these painful posts. End of line. I forgot to mention that I suck at timing. Me: "Sure, I'll be there in fifteen minutes!" One hour later. Friend: "Dude, what is with your beaner time? It's been over a half hour." Me: "Sorry, I was poking my asshole and smelling my finger."