Things to do with a plaster hand

I bought some alginate this weekend with the intent of using it to create a mold of my hand that I could fill with Jell-O and then use to scare small children. The Jell-O didn't set, so, in order to get my money's worth, I filled the mold with plaster. The problem with a plaster mold of ones' hand is that there is not a whole lot to do with it. After my mom passed on mounting it on the wall to use as a candle holder and also declined to use it as the first piece of memorabilia in a shrine dedicated to me, I was at a loss as to how to make use of my hand. In the end, I decided to grab the hand and my camera and see what kind of photos I could come up with.

Please note that the bumps on the hand are due to air bubbles in the alginate and not disfiguring warts/moles. Also, I broke off my plaster hand's pinkie while extracting it from the mold. If you pay close attention, you will be able to see a seam where I used more plaster to re-attach it. That is all.

Use it to hold flowers

Feed the fish

Pretend to climb ropes

Rake the leaves (trust me, that blurry blue thing is a rake)

Take funny pictures with liquor bottles.. That crazy hand loves its tequila!

Ever wonder what to do with those boxes of tiny cocktail umbrellas you bought? Use the hand to hold them!!!!

Scare the cat by using the hand to pet it

Play rock, paper, scissors. The hand is surprisingly hard to beat.

Make your father arm wrestle the hand

In spite of having no arm muscles, the hand wins!

Use it as a place to put your phone (so that you can finally stop losing it)

Use the hand to make it look like you are not hogging the remote

Pretend that the hand knows how to use the computer

Janet Jackson would go on to flash her nipple approximately 45 minutes later

In my first year of University, one of my roommates had a hanging lamp, which she purchased from Ikea, displayed proudly in her room. It is important at this point in time, for the sake of the story, that I mention that the hanging lamp was made out of blue rice paper. Needless to say, it was a delicate lamp and it had been made clear to me on more than one occasion that I was never to touch it.
You all know where this story is going, of course I ended up breaking the hanging lamp. That hanging lamp was doomed the minute my roommate packed it up and brought it with her to University. Ultimately it was the finale of Super Bowl XXXVIII's pre-game show that would do it in.
Aerosmith was in the midst of playing their hearts out, and dancers were running around the field with beautiful dancing ribbons streaming after them. Moved by what was happening on screen, I picked up a plastic tape measure that was sitting on my roommate's side table and began to wave it in the air, imitating (with far less sophistication) the movements of the dancers on the TV.
"Wave that ribbon!" My roommate exclaimed, "you were born to do this!" And, for a minute, I believed her. I believed her right up until I heard the metal end of that plastic tape measure puncture the paper body of her hanging lamp.
I stopped abruptly, the tape measure falling to my side, closed my eyes and prepared myself for the painful death that I was sure would follow. When death did no immediately find me, I slowly opened up one eye and glanced cautiously towards where my roommate was sitting.
As I had expected, tears were streaming down her face - however, much to my surprise, they seemed to be the result of laughter rather than sadness/a burning desire to kill me. I was even more surprised at what she said next: "Don't you stop, Megan." She cried, "don't you ever stop waving that ribbon."
"But I just ruined your lamp," I said, in disbelief.
"Forget that," she shouted, "just wave. You wave that ribbon, Megan."
And so, deciding not to question her, I once more waved that plastic tape measure high above my head. I waved that plastic tape measure with everything I was and everything I had in me, all the while making fervent promises to replace the hanging lamp that had fallen victim to my new career.
In spite of numerous man hours spent in Ikea, diligently searching for a replacement, I have only very recently been able to locate another hanging lamp. While relating the entire story over the Internet may not be the best way to keep it a surprise, I am now finally able to make good on my promise to replace the lamp that I/Aerosmith broke.

All of my socks have pictures of animals frolicking on them.
No, wait, that's not entirely true. Some of them display a single animal looking bored, and others show multiple animals at various stages of rest.
I am not sure if you know this, but it is somewhat difficult to convince yourself you are in fact an adult when there are woven pictures of kittens playing with balls of yarn prominently displayed on your feet.