I can’t make rice on the stovetop. I am a bad Indian. 
I just use the rice cooker.
I also can’t whistle.
I can’t fold a fitted sheet anywhere near neatly.
No one can. The ones who can are lying.
I can’t roller skate. I love to ice skate and I can inline skate too. But the typical roller skates you clamp onto your shoes or rent at the roller rink? Can’t do it. Broke my arm trying.
I can’t sit crosslegged- my legs don’t work that way. And I can’t remove my t shirt by crossing my arms and grabbing it at the hem.
Nobody can do that. Even when new in the package, they are folded over a piece of cardboard.
Can’t whistle(wish I could)
Can’t do a pushup(I think my biceps were removed at birth)
Can’t do the Vulcan peace sign(this one frustrates me no end)
Yeah, same here. Looks like there’s a few of us.
I probably could fold shirts with the collar centered, but it’s easier to just fold them down the middle. Can’t do the shrill, two-finger whistle, but haven’t tried in decades. Can get the automated water faucets to work, but usually after a bit of experimentation; I blame the faucet manufacturers.
I can’t wink with my left eye. Right-eye winking works according to spec. I’m right-handed but left-eye dominant, which may have something to do with it. Or may not.
I learned to do this as a kid, and for me at least it was just a matter of practice. I remember I had to start by holding my fingers in the correct position using the other hand. After a while I was able to spread my fingers the right way without the other hand, although it took some effort, and eventually it got easier. I don’t remember how long this took – probably longer than I’d be willing to spend on it as an adult, but I had plenty of spare time as a kid.
I’m actually not much of a Trekkie and don’t cosplay as a Vulcan or anything so once I learned to make this gesture I very rarely used it, but I can still do it now.
Not in my family. Gramma had both asbestos hands and an asbestos mouth… but Mom has just the hands, and I have just the mouth. Mom and Gramma have both often taken things straight out of the oven without pot holders. And whenever Mom and I have a cup of tea together, I’m always finished with mine before she can even take her first sip.
I can’t comprehend north-south-east-west. I understand the concept intellectually, have a good sense of direction and rarely get lost, but if you give me directions that include statements like “turn east” I will never figure out which way is east unless the road sign specifically includes the word “east.”
Add me to the list of people who cannot snap their fingers.
I have an ex-boyfriend who couldn’t seem to tuck in his shirt properly. Either the buttons would be all crooked, or one tail would be hanging out, or the whole thing would come undone in ten minutes. I never figured out why it bothered me so much, but it drove me nuts.
I can’t whistle. I can’t cook rice, either. I can cook full meals and bake, so it’s not a question of general kitchen competence or ability to follow a recipe. Somehow, no matter what I do, my rice either comes out underdone or mushy. In the book Julie & Julia, someone comments that the world is split into two parallel universes that overlap almost entirely, the only difference being whether rice is easy or hard to make. People who dwell in one universe will never understand people who dwell in the other.
I’m the opposite. I can’t rollerblade to save my life and gave up after deciding it was trying to kill me.
I can. I could tell you how but then we would all have our own satellites tracking us until them got around to eliminating us. You for knowing with out authorization, me for letting slip the secret.
[stage whisper]
the hints is that it is how we maintain control
[/stage whisper]
I can’t do the finger-whistle thing though so it evens out?
Hey, can’t cook rice people: get an Aroma rice cooker. You’ll smile every time you use it. It’s so fuckin’ easy
I can’t roll my Rs. My mother tongue is Spanish. It’s embarrassing.
I used to have the same problem with rice. Then I had a baby. Literally, the first time I made rice after my son was born, the rice turned out fine. It has ever since.
FWIW, my son hates rice.
I cannot put “sleeper” earrings in without destroying the earring in the process. I cannot use an eyelash curler. I used to be unable to get an electric can opener to work for me. I still might not be able to do this, but it has been many years since I have encountered an electric can opener.
I once dated a man who could not use scissors. Partly it was because he was left handed but somehow even with my awesome amazing left handed scissors that I have owned since I was in Grade 8, he managed to tear paper. We no longer date, but it is not because of scissors.
:p~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I can. The secret is not trying to do it as if it wasn’t fitted, d’uh (you need to use a large-enough horizontal surface to go beyond the first fold).
scootergirl, I had a professor (and his son as a classmate) whose lastname was Irurre. That’s Doctod Idudde pade and Doctod Idudde hijo, by their own pronunciations.
The only scissors I can use comfortably are the old-fashioned, un-handed sewing scissors. I should buy stock in Tres Claveles… I’m also a statistic outlier for any item touted as “ergonomic”. The chairs in my current office? The highest setting of their “lumbar rest” is at my coccyx. That ain’t my lumbars!
I can whistle - the quiet sort, not the super-loud finger-mouth type. I can snap my fingers. I can cook rice.
Never learned to ride a bike because I have terrible balance.
Never learned to swim because I can’t float (and I do not need a lecture from anyone about how it’s possible to swim without the ability to float, thanks.)
Never really cared enough about either to keep trying after failing enough times to convince me that there are some people who simply cannot do things that other people are convinced everybody can do.
Can’t roll my R’s either. I am thankful that my wife is from a region of Brazil where they don’t do that (In Rio they use a sort of throaty “H” sound where a rolled R might go).
Can’t skate. No finger snapping. My football throw is an occasional beautiful spiral only by chance.
In the musical world, I can’t sing and play an instrument at the same time–I watch my wife playing the piano at church singing as she plays amazing music, but if even if I need to play the simplest bass line I can’t sing along with it. She turns her pages with finesse too, without missing a beat, while for me a single page turn is a major deal that requires weeks of planning and special annotations in the margin.