Working on my "man moves" and it's going really well.

[Jack from Arkansas]

After the ice storm recently, I went shopping for a chain saw even though I rent my house,  bought some expired beef and pepper m.r.e.'s, and went to Sturm's Indoor Gun Range.  At the gun range they rented me a pistol without even asking my name.  I picked up a paper target and wandered into the firing area.  The guns were so loud I was in a daze until I found the hearing protection.  Once I loaded and fired my pistol the gun almost flipped out of my hands because of the lotion I put on back in the truck. 
     I would be more at home with a crossword at the bakery, but I insist on living out Field and Stream magazine.  What skills do FOT's try and possibly fail at?

[Regular Joe]

I can't start a fire with slightly damp logs that anybody else in the world could get lit. It goes back to a weekend camping trip in my youth, taken alone with a lady friend where I spent at least an hour trying to make a small campfire, just to prove some ridiculous masculine point to her and myself. Both now and then, the shame in not being able to make fire is horribly real. Better still, this incident was only the first of many times I've disappointed a girl in the woods, with no innuendo needed or intended.

Actually, I'm changing my answer to camping in general. I'm just plain lousy at camping, although I suppose I'm incredibly adept at waking up with my head and/or feet in a puddle.

[DoodleJump!]

I fail at cooking. I'm young enough that one might say I have plenty of time to hone that skill, but it's gotten to the point that my mom refuses to let me do anything in the kitchen.
Not that I've ever blown up the oven or anything. I think she is more fearful of my food-recipients getting food poisoning than anything else.
But most of the time the food I cook just tastes bad. I made muffins one time, and thought that (within lapse of reason) that olive oil would be pretty much the same thing as vegetable oil. Big mistake, and my apple-cinnamon muffins turned out to be ultra-moist oil-biscuits.
Whenever I make cookies, they always turn out more like mini-cakes than the usual cookie-crunchiness.
Even if I make coffee, my mom pours it out and brews it all over again because a) it's too strong b) it's too weak c) it has strange crunchy bits floating in it.
I would like to be a decent cook; I have visions of wearing a frilly apron over a dress as I set a plate of steaming gourmet something in front of my husband as soon as he gets off work. Kinda like a domestic goddess of the 1950s. Unfortunately, right now all I can see in my future are take-out and marriage to a chef as far as cooking goes.