Good In Poetry, Poor In Carpentry

There was this smart ass way back in high school, sharp as a fiddle but so unpredictable; he ran the school paper and worked as editor, you might say he’s intelligent and that’s for sure. Well, this man liked to dabble in prose and poetry but assumed he could be just as good in carpentry; thought that talent was transferable, the darn old fool, and quickly grabbed the nearest basic manly tools. So he set out in his new-found trade and pushed his luck, grabbed some wood, a hammer and few nails from the shack, then proceeded to the front yard under a tree to start building an outdoor bench for all to see. He exerted and sweated for a week or so, it soon became obvious he had a tough time too; but nothing could stop him from being macho, you have got to give it to him, Mr. Can-Do. When at last his labor was over and he's had his fun, I burst out laughing when I saw what he had done; for instead of a bench the rotten carpenter accidentally built a lousy rocking chair! *****