I also suck at badmitton.

Rather than go on and on about how awesome I am at stuff, I figured I should come clean and let you guys know that there are a few things that I'm not so good at. Some may say, that I may even suck.

The plan is to get all this crap out of the way in one shot. Next time I'll get back to talking about how I could totally punch a camel in the face if I had the chance.

Thinking of myself as an adult: I'm 27. I've lived on my own for nine years. I've voted in three presidential elections. I've graduated from college, gotten married and am currently sitting less than three months away from being a father. I have met every requirement for being a real adult that this country has ever come up with and done so with style.

And yet, when I look in the mirror, I don't see a paunchy guy with a receding hair line. I see a dude who, with a couple months hard training, could still have a career as a professional wrestler.

There is something in the back of my head that says “Anyone who checks all the stalls for Captain Hook, before he can do his business, is not a grown-up.”

I don't like working adult jobs, I don't like paying adult mortgages, I even buy cereal without a toy inside, therefore, according to how I remember the Pythagorean Theorem, I cannot be an adult.

QE-freakin'-D.

Gardening: I always figured I'd be really good at gardening. It is, after all, nothing more than, playing in the dirt, then waiting followed by eating. All three activities that I excel at. The problem is gardening also requires getting plants to grow, something I apparently suck at.

It's not all my fault. I do everything I'm suppose to. Plants just hate me. I think it all goes back to second grade when I tried to grow a seed in a paper cup. Instead of water I would pour orange juice on mine.

I guess that's some kind of cannibalism to them.

Making the decision of when to go to the bathroom: I honestly cannot count the number of important life events that I've only half paid attention to, because I really had to pee. I still have no idea what my doctor said I should do about this rash I got for this very reason, and it's been four months.

Savoring: I'm really bad a slowing down and enjoying my food. I don't know what it is, but I have some primal need to eat my food before anyone takes it. I wasn't raised by wolves, but I would go over there for dinner sometimes, so I guess I may have picked it up there. I don't know.

Taking medicine: I don't mean I'm like a little kid or a pet or my sister in that I have physical difficulty swallowing pills. Ever since the day I accidentally wolfed down a whole Jolly Rancher, getting an aspirin has been easy peasy. I just never think to take them.

I'll be laying there with a major headache, wishing that I lived in a video game where there where magic substances that I could take and my pains would just go away.

Then my wife will offer me an Ibuprofen and I'll be confused what the gross piece of candy if for.

Finishing columns: You have no idea how many columns I've got half written on my hard drive. I have column ranging in topics from String Theory to my very strong opinion on butt-lint. And yet I never seem to fin–

Geek on.

Steve Shinney apologizes for ending with metahumor. It's the Internet, which means I have a meta quota to fill. Comments can be left below.