I Can't Fix Shit

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I can't fix shit. I can't install, assemble, repair, maintain, build or otherwise perform any manner of mechanical activity on any physical object whatsoever.

I am a klutz.

There, I said it, and I don't regret it.

Now I can go back to trying to install a gate to keep our eleven-month-old from tumbling down the stairs.

PS: I exaggerate. In fact, I have:  assembled stuff -- furniture, baby equipment, gas barbecue grill -- that still has yet to fall apart; patched and replaced bicycle tubes; replaced all manner of computer parts; done very basic plumbing repairs without fucking up (and have also done them with fucking up); and so forth. But it's slow, painful and perilous, because I am a klutz. Though I read instructions and how-to books, usually something comes up that is undocumented. That's when a person needs creativity, courage, imagination, balls, talent, skill. I have a little of the first three, but very little of the last two.

1 Comment

Dude. Just move into a mobile home and a park of the same kind. Great neighbors who all readily share (for a price) their beer and weed without the hassle of cops who give a shit what the fuck goes on in your "hood". No stairs to worry about and your kids will learn about sex education long before puberty ever comes and will probably first-hand just after it does come. None of that long-talk bullshit, eh? This promo is brought to you by the Bush Initiative for More Ignorant Americans.

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This page contains a single entry by Professor B published on April 12, 2004 5:07 PM.

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