A Full Cart Of Smart!

The cat is good at this and that. Or would it be that and this for the cat? Beats the heck out of me. But there are sure some things you'll never see me good at at my sea.

I'm so great.
A common trait.
A human one.
Always spun.

I can do this.
Ego can't miss.
I can do that.
So full of scat.

Rocket science it is.
That's my biz.
Can't tie a shoe.
Whoops, boo hoo.

I can build a tower.
Can even fix a shower.
Whoops, can't plant a flower.
Now I'll go and cower.

I can write a book.
So great at my nook.
Whoops, I can't get the ball in the hoop.
I was thrown for a loop.

I can sell a car.
I can go far.
Whoops, can't sell clothes.
Damn, that curls my toes.

I can cure your ails.
Maybe pound some nails.
Whoops, can't play cards.
Have trouble mowing yards.

I can fly a plane.
Landing in the right lane.
Whoops, can't drive a train.
That leaves me with a pain.

I can go to space.
Puts a smile on my face.
Whoops, can't public speak.
Now I'm up shit creek.

I can write a blog.
Don't get brain fog.
Whoops, can't draw a lick.
Unless it involves a stick.

Don't you love those humans that think they are great at all? Just because they can do one thing they can do them all at their hall. Now you can get better and learn. But there will always be something that makes you feel the burn. I can't sing like that singing bass. There, I admitted it with my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.