Here’s the flipside. What abilities do you lack, or what skills have you tried, and failed, to master?
I can’t draw worth shit. Not even stick figures. Let’s see, what else. I am not empathetic, and no one has ever accused be of being physically graceful.
I won’t even tell you what came to mind when I saw this thread 
Willpower.
No artistic talent.
Can’t sing worth a lick. In fact, I have no ear for music. Oh, I love classical music and appreciate the beauty of many wonderful pieces, but I couldn’t pick out a “C” or a “B-flat” to save my life. My father was the opposite. He played the bassoon and organ, and could pick out each instrument in a symphony by ear. Not me.
No sense of direction. This is embarassing, but I always get turned around (“lost”). If I come up on an intersection somewhat undecided, I always choose the wrong way to turn. I am the King of the U-turn or swinging back around via a gas station lot. If someone tells me to go “East,” how the Hell am I supposed to know which way that is without a map or the sun being out?
I am positively wretched at drawing.
My singing voice is beastly.
My sense of direction is so bad I am not sure I would be able to find the sun if I were floating in space.
I am the world’s worst party guest.
MR
Gee Dinsdale, you corrupted poor sweet, innocent, Angkins ;).
Seriously, my handwriting is atrocious, I can’t whistle and I couldn’t make a pie to save my life.
Keith
If I had to swim 10 yards to save my life, maybe. No way 20.
Without a doubt – foosball.
Nipples, earlobes, toes if she wants me to. 
Sledman has no artistic talent discernible by modern science.
He also sucks at pool and online fantasy football. I’m sure there is more but that is what comes to mind right now.
I can’t whistle.
I suck at all video games.
I think I’m a good writer, and I’m going to be one when I grow up, but I probably really suck.
Putting stuff in alphabetical order blows my mind, especially anything after L.
I can’t spell at all, and the spell-checker on my computer won’t work anymore. My friends are getting damn sick of reading my papers and correting them.
I suck at being good-looking.
I give terrible directions–stuff on par with “You know that road with that store where Mom bought that thing for the bathroom?”
I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t juggle. I just can’t get it.
I can draw, I can sing (although you won’t hear me sing anywhere but in the shower), but ask me to pitch a baseball, and I’m like a fish out of water!
I also suck at bowling. IIRC, my best score was in the thirties!
I am a profoundly bad ballet dancer; in fact, I got kicked out of ballet class when I was seven. Time and “maturity” have not improved my technique at all.
Oh, and I can’t crochet my way out of a paper bag.
Can’t draw, can’t sing or play any instrument, can’t play sports, can’t snap my fingers, can’t imitate accents, can’t fill out a simple form without entering something in the wrong place, can’t tell when the apartment needs cleaning unless somebody points it out to me, can’t act perky and outgoing around strangers … Damn. I am incompetent.
I have the worst signature in the entire world, not counting people who are mentally disabled or do not have hands. I mean, I have seen good signatures and I have seen bad ones, and mine is the absolute worst signature of all time. ANYONE who has ever seen it has agreed it’s the worst they’ve ever seen. You couldn’t have a worse signature if you tried. I’m glad I’m not a celebrity; my autograph would make me lose fans.
I’ve tried to fix it. I’ve actually sat down with a peice of paper and practiced a variety of fine alternative signatures. And when I actually sign something, it always comes out looking like a busted spirograph drawing.
The stuff I suck at amounts to a list of buts, to wit:
I’m reasonably athletic – good fencer, accurate frisbee thrower, used to play soccer, rock climb – but I can’t throw a football to save my life. Many people have tried to teach me, and all gave up.
I’m a pretty good dancer – ballroom (swing, foxtrot, waltz, etc.) especially – but I could never get the hang of tap.
I’m a decent self-taught musician – composition, arrangement, singing, etc. – and while I’m a passable piano player, my left hand is like a frozen hunk of meat. Pinky and thumb an octave apart, and that’s it.
This one’s kind of esoteric, but what the hell. I’m a pretty good actor – Shakespeare, modern, mime, whatever – but mask work did and does elude me.
I’m good at analytical thought – I skated through math curricula up until my sophomore year of college, and I’ve able to pretty easily teach myself technical stuff, like DHTML and JavaScript – but there’s a certain level of complexity that’s like a big brick wall. Trig? Fine. Calculus? Don’t remember any of it, but at the time it was no sweat. Beyond that? Makes my skull melt.
There’s more, but you get the idea. In general, I think I’m fairly well-rounded in my skills and knowledge, but with every general discipline there’s a weird black hole, some small, some large, some a self-contained area within and some a clearly demarcated boundary, that denies my access.
Understanding english. I thought Rickjay was talking about his sig line until he mentioned his autograph. I was wondering why just didn’t change his sig line.
Driving a standard. I can’t do it. I cannot coordinate the actions of my left foot, my right foot and my right hand all at the same time. Many people have tried to teach me. I’ve walked home several times out of frustration.
You know the saying, “If you can’t find 'em, grind 'em” ? That was invented for me.
I cannot sing for the life of me. My voice does not even reach an octave in scale–pretty hard to carry a tune with only six notes in reserve!
I can’t keep things tidy. I’ll clean my room, clear out my desk, and go through my notes–tomorrow.
I can’t concentrate on anything important. What was I saying?
I bite at math – at least anything at the level of high school algebra and above. I can add, subtract, divide, and multiply (kind of), but as soon as it starts getting a little abstract, my brain freezes over.
I’m a lousy housekeeper. I don’t give a damn if the house looks like crap. I’d rather ride my bike or cook or go hiking.
I can’t remember faces worth a hoot. Unless the person is a friend or someone I see every day, like at work, I won’t remember them from their face if I run into them on the street. Embarrassing as hell. Neighbors think I’m ignoring them.
I’ve always been horrible at any sort of sports, until I took to riding a road bicycle. I can now do 30 mile rides, but I only started riding at age 41. Until then, I was a sports dope.
I’m completely socially inept in a party situation. I just can’t strike up conversations with strangers and appear interested. Puzzlingly, I do fine in bars.
Making friends, I guess. I still don’t really have any.
[Edited by Eutychus55 on 11-14-2000 at 05:48 PM]