Selective Amnesia There was a point to this. But I forgot.

Totally Incompeten
t.

Yes, that’s me.
Totally incompetent. I am much like the Ditzy Ghaati women in Megha’s post here. DGW #2 – who didn’t know Asha was married to RDB.

Or better (or worse, depending on how you see it) like the Welsh Choir people who were the only entrants in a competition, and managed to come second. (Copywriters and ad-folks: Yes, I internalised this from a classic Neil French ad. You have an issue with it?)

There I sat this morning, in front of the computer. Waiting for that all too rare inspiration to strike me – to write a post that was opinionated, strongly worded and one that would get Pastrami’s approval.
Nope.
Nada.
Nyet.
Nahin.

So incompetent I am, in fact, even failure eludes me. I am unable to fail at succeeding, am unable to succeed at failure. In short, I fail at being an abject failure.

I am so incompetent that I set off writing a flame-baiting post. And ended up with this. Heck, I still don’t know what flame-baiting means. Still, I am writing it. My blog, and I even, can be classified as total washouts. Even Nilu wouldn’t grace me with a puke. That’s how bad I am.
My only solace – I do happen to have some company.