Welcome to the mish-mash in Puna's mind. Subjects may include crafts, crochet, knitting, scrapbooking, gaming, star wars, movies, killer bunnies, great and wonderful wizards named Tim, and pretty much anything else besides Taylor Lautner.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Big League Brains

So you know how one great idea leads to someone stepping all over said idea and trying to put you down which makes you put up your dukes and make some kind of sarcastic remark which leads to a completely random remark which leads to ANOTHER great idea? Yeah, that's what happened to me yesterday. What's so cool about it is that my latest idea is a  freakin' awesome idea for the upcoming Zombalypse (or Apocabie, whichever way you want to go with that).

What's even better about this gum is that it comes with a personalized Louisville Slugger bat offer. I think I'll name my bat Smooshy Face.
So...what if we take Big League Chew and mold it into a brain shape? It really shouldn't be that hard because it already looks a little like ground beef (the original flavored one, not the grape one) and should be easy to mold and to get it to stick together.

Click on the picture to go to the Big League Chew Wikipedia page.
Then whenever the zombies start to get close to overrunning us we lob the molded gum, just like little brain grenades, into the press. The zombies will see them and think "yummy brains" and then they'll try to eat them and then they'll have a hard time eating them because it'll be all chewy, you know, because it's like a huge wad of gum. (I know you know how this feels because when you were a kid you completely ignored the "stay-fresh pouch" part of BLC's sales pitch and totally tried to eat that whole packet of gum all at once, didn't you?) Then, while the zombies are busy chewing their jaws off, you could easily run away or take the chance to start picking them off. 

I imagine it would look something like this but with less pretty and more decomposing.
The Ford Gum & Machine Company should totally market this shit with zombies in mind. They could even make a version that tastes and smells like brain to make it more appealing. Dip the whole wad of brain into peanut butter and we'll have zombies gumming around for hours. It'll totally be the gum of choice for zombies and zombie slayers alike and revolutionize post-apocabie life. All I ask in payment for this innovation is for my reader (yep, that's you again Brent) to, when the time comes, let everyone know that I was the first to come up with it. Hubba Bubba eat your heart out.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Crochet, You Moody Whore, You

I wanted to have another project all finished and ready to show Tuesday, but unfortunately I'm having a very, very hard time making the damned thing. This is what it is supposed to look like:

Design by Anne Potter
And this is what it actually looks like:

Yes, that is a lot of crap on my desk.
So yeah, screw you crocheted wrap. I don't understand why I'm having such a hard time making this pattern because it really should be John Edwards' mistress easy. Yes, THAT easy. All you have to do is crochet a large rectangle and then sew the short ends together to make little elasticky sleeve-holes. Pffftt! I can do that with the lights off and my toes tied behind my back! Sure.

The only problem is that I can't get the sides to be even. My first attempt had both short ends getting larger. Don't know what happened there, but I pulled it out. My second attempt had both ends getting smaller. Obviously I over compensated for my largeness problem, better pull it out. Then finally my last attempt had one side getting larger and one side getting smaller. What the freak? Pulled that one out and started praying to the almighty goddess of crocheted things to just help me to make it even.

Looks like a rainbow-colored, mutant amoeba is trying to eat this poor woman.
I have to warn you, though. You really have to be careful who you pray to because you never know what you're going to get. (You especially have to be careful Googling things like "crochet goddess," or really anything with goddess in it, because you'll never be able to unsee anything you find. Just like amoeba lady up there.) Also, the stupid answer I got was one that I already knew but was too lazy to do: counting stitches. I REALLY don't want to count to 115 for every row to make sure that my rows are all even. Besides, I'd probably screw up the counting and still have the same problem.

So...pretty, pretty, please crochet Kali, help me to change my crochet for the better instead of making it worse. And please don't get the blood from that severed head all over my crocheted wrap. Thank you. Shun-ti-day!

Monday, May 7, 2012

Monday Is The New Tuesday

So normally I would've had a post ready for everyone (or just Brent) to read last week Tuesday. Unfortunately, I spent my whole day making these flowers because I agreed to work on my day off.

Then I spent the rest of the week being completely thrown off because I was constantly two days behind in everything. Luckily it was for a good cause. Well, not really. It WAS free, though. Here's some step by steps just in case you want to learn too.

You need a lot of stuff for this project, all of which is in this picture. The list is floral tape, duct tape, some kind of round cylinder, non-stick scissors, wire cutters, stamens, londy wire (or thin floral wire), and all purpose thread. You can choose your own duct tape shade, and they now make a bunch of cool colors and patterns, so make sure it's a cute one.

You need something to make uniform circles out of wire. No, it doesn't have to be "craft twinkles". It can be that container of painkillers you've been hiding in your medicine cabinet because the dentist always gives them to you even though you just went in for your regular cleaning. You need five of them. Wire circles, not Lora-tab, that might be deadly.

Just give the circles a little tug so they're not so circley anymore. Think of tadpoles and those other little things that have tails and swim. Fish! Yea...fish.

The duct tape is happy because it finally gets to be put to good use by making something cute. Stick that wire petal to it. BTW, this is tie-dye duct tape in bright sunny colors.

You have to enfold your petal into the duct tape completely. (This is beginning to sound a little naughty.) Make sure both sides are covered nicely and there are no wrinkles. That is, unless you like wrinkles, naughty person. After that, you have to use non-stick scissors to cut around the wire part of the petal but leave a little space so the duct tape doesn't split open right at the seam.

Yes, there are places that sell fake flower stamens like this. They have the little stamen heads on both sides so you have to wrap them around one petal so both sides are sticking up. Yes, I did say to wrap the little heads around the petal so they stick up.

The stamens get sandwiched in between two petals and you use regular thread, doubled-up on itself, to wrap around the two petals and keep them together. If you wrap tight enough you won't have to knot the thread, it will stay put all on it's own. You're going to use a lot of thread so I suggest having a doubled up length of about three feet.

The other flower petals are inserted between the first two petals as shown, one from each side, and then the last one wherever you would like to stick it. However, when you start to wrap them up with thread, make sure that they all sit nicely, one on top of the other, like the picture below.

Wrap all the petals together (many, many, more times) with the thread, and then use floral tape to cover all the wire and thread. Hint: floral tape is only sticky when stretched, so you have to pull as you twist it around the wires to get it to work.

Unfold all the petals and pinch them between your thumb, pointer, and middle fingers to shape into something that resembles a flower. (All this talk about petals and pinching and shaping is making me blush.)

This is what the flower should look like when finished. To make smaller flowers like the little blue one in my first picture, just use a smaller form to make the petals. Try it with animal print duct tape too, they come out really cute.

Why was I making duct tape flowers, you ask? Well, because here in beautiful Hawaii, May Day is Lei Day. On Lei Day you teach people how to make leis. OK, not you exactly, but I do. I mean I teach people to make leis and you don't. You probably twirl girls around a Maypole or something. And anyway, I was SUPPOSED to teach people to make leis but other people were already doing that and I didn't just want to sit there and do the exact same thing. So I made duct tape flowers and then the other people gave me weird looks because I wasn't making leis. It's okay though, a lot of people liked the flowers, which is why I decided to post the instructions.

Um, this post went all kind of weird. I blame it on all the petal pinching and stamen head talk. And lack of sleep.

P. S. I didn't make this up, my friend Brandon did. You should buy some of his cupcakes to thank him for being such a creative crafter. Or just because his cupcakes are so delicioso.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Bumptious Driver

The other day, I was driving home from work and secretly wishing that the ass-wipe that just cut me off had actually hit my car. Strange right? Not for me. I've just realized that I fervently wish for this to happen a lot. A lot. Let me explain.

My commute to and from work consists of fifteen minutes of driving on small roads through residential neighborhoods. Great, isn't it? (I do realize that I am super lucky on this point because most people have to deal with gridlock traffic hell and their commute usually takes days and days. I'm lucky and yet I still complain.)

The unfortunate thing is that people here seem to think that the other cars - you know, the ones with the right-of-way and no stop signs for miles - are supposed to stop for them when they decide to suddenly pull out from behind the stop sign which they've been sitting at for at least an hour. It's almost as if these idiots have decided to lay in wait to ambush innocent car drivers as they unassumingly cruise by on their way home from work. I seem to be the perfect target for every single last one of these freakin' people.

Stop sign ambush may not be as scary as droideka ambush, but it's close
So, this guy cuts me off, makes me hit my brakes, (one of my biggest pet peeves when driving is having to brake needlessly) then proceeds to drive incredibly slowly. Very, very slowly. (And before you ask, no, I was not following a retiree.) Now I'm thinking, "Really? Do you have ANY clue that there are other people on the road?" To which he responds by driving even slower. And this is when, completely out of the blue, I think, "Mother fucker, you should have just HIT me in the first place!" It's not a death wish, I assure you.

I have a kind of twisted logic in this scenario. My thinking is that, one, I am a good driver and would not be at fault if this ass-clown hit me; two, this guy's a horrible, stupid driver and doesn't even know it; and three, my car is pretty much a piece of shit. In my rage-induced, dysfunctional logic, adding these three things together equals the perfect vindication for me and the perfect lesson for him. With foreordained righttitude, as if it were handed down by God, this accident would, in my mind, remake the world into a better place. Everything would now be perfect because this guy hit me, proved me right, realized that he was wrong, decided to reform his driving etiquette, and was appropriately punished for being a jackass, all in one fell swoop. Some times I can really be an idiot when road rage is involved.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately in my case, none of this ever happens. I never get hit with a jackass' car, the heavens never open to reveal the hand of God sweeping down to deliver justice upon obnoxious drivers, idiots never EVER realize they're wrong, and the world is never made into a Utopia of unmolested driving. I'll keep wishing for it, though.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

I'll Double-Tap You in Your Ugly Monster-Lookin' Face

So, I got to thinking that there might be some unexpected side affects due to my attitude toward the Zombie apocalypse. If you read my post last week, which I'm assuming you didn't, you would know that I vowed to immediately shoot everyone who even remotely looked like they were bitten or infected.
Sephiroth's Masamune Nodachi
Although, in all honesty, my zombie slaying weapon of choice would not be a gun. It would probably be a katana or nodachi. (A nodachi is a sword, like a katana, but bigger and more bad-ass. Look at Wikipedia for the description, and before you ask, yes, I did watch a lot of anime during my teenage years.) 

It's most certainly not the perfect weapon for me, considering how ungraceful I am and the very high likelihood of my doing all the work for the zombies and lopping off my own limbs and the limbs of my surrounding loved ones. (I consistently rolled critical fumbles on those few occasions when I played D&D.) But I would much rather have a weapon that is not going to misfire at the crucial moment or run out of bullets. Also, then we could play Highlander with the zombies and constantly yell, "There can be only one!" while cutting them into tiny pieces.

What was the point of this again? Oh, yes, the unforeseen byproduct of trying to get a jump on the zombie hoard by killing off people who look like they may possibly be infected. Or a little under the weather. Or turned into a newt.

Anyway, I have decided that the repercussions of this plan of attack could have a very adverse effect on the aesthetically challenged population. Or in other words, ugly people.

Here's my reasoning. If you look like this:

I'm probably going to kill your ugly zombie face. You don't want to look like this. Ever.

Then again, if you look like this:

I'll probably double-tap your face just in case. Just to make sure that you won't try to eat me. Or sing off key at me. Or have a bunch of white trash kids.

So, in light of these new revelations, here are some tips to help you get along with the good looking survivors of the Zombie Apocalypse, like me.
  1. Don't shave your head to make a statement because the statement ends up being, "I want to eat your brains."
  2. Use sunscreen to avoid the wizened corpse look, also known as twice-tanned leather.
  3. Apply makeup correctly and stay away from green, purple, and blue shades; and foundation that is too light.
  4. Subscribe to post-apocalyptic-chic fashion mags to stay on the cutting edge of zombie killing fashion.
 Personally, I'm planning on being the most well dressed zombie killer ever. Or the person who shoots first.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Monsters, Meet My Boomstick

Hubbie and I just finished watching "Evil Dead" again for the like upteenth time. It was good campy, as always, although we spent the majority of the film yelling at Bruce Campbell to "just cut them down with the axe already!" I'm still surprised at how long it takes for him to actually kill someone. Honestly Bruce, how did you think this was going to end? The minute you guys walked into that cabin and saw the wide assortment of tools that can also be used as weapons, you should've known that you would eventually have to use them to cut all your friends into little-bitty pieces. With a name like Ash Williams, that should just be how you roll. Also, the chick under the floorboards is TOTALLY going to try to attack you later on; how many times are you going to save her life? And the minute that your girlfriend goes scary, demonic kid psychotic, you need to immediately blow her ugly, flour-dusted head of with your shotgun.

First, that laugh is freakin' irritating, and second, who drew on this chick's face with eyeliner and lipstick?
I swear, I would be the most awesome monster butt-kicker ever because I have no qualms about taking my boom-stick to something that is trying to kill me. Let this be a warning to all my friends out there, if we're ever stuck in a scary movie together, I will NOT hesitate to kill off anyone looking remotely sick, infected, possessed, or bitten. You bitches are SO not gonna deter my last ditch effort at escaping by suddenly tripping me as I walk by or jumping on my back as I'm about to flee. You'll all be dead and I'll be running for the hills.

What's that, Mom? You've got a fever? Well, it may just be the flu like you think, but I really can't take the chance of you being a carrier for the T-virus, so I'll just have to take you out right now. There's no way I'm letting anyone bring you back later on as a genetically altered she-hulk who can cook a mean Zucchini Munchie and actually follow through on your promise of "taking me out of this world" if I so much as put a foot wrong. (By the way, remind me to share that Zucchini Munchie recipe with y'all some day because that stuff is freakin' yummy.)

This is why I love The Oatmeal, he understands.

Also, when the zombie apocalypse comes around, I'm not waiting around for you to turn before I try to kill you. There will be no long, drawn out, emotional scene where I have to have an equally long and drawn out inner debate about whether or not I should kill my friend, dog, sister, lover, or whoever. The minute I find out you've been bitten, you're dead, unless you volunteer to go down in a blaze of glory by fighting off the zombie hoard before they get to the rest of us. Keeping zombies off the uninfected people is heroic; being the zombie attacking the uninfected is just bad form. Just be heroic, fuckers, and do everyone a favor and die.

Are you prepared for the Zombie apocalypse? Have you accidentally killed a friend in a weird case of mistaken zombie identity? Let me know. The more info we share about what we'll do when the undead rise, the better prepared we'll be.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Brent Might Be Smarter Than Your Average Imbecile

Brent has recently been having a conversation with an imbecilic lunatic. Now, just for clarification, when I say “conversation,” I mean drop-kick schooling her on how the real world works, and by “imbecilic,” I mean oh-my-fucking-god this lady is brain-bleed stupid. The funniest thing about all this is that Brent is having the time of his ever-loving life trying to fix stupid. Here’s the gist of their back and forth:

Imbecilic Lunatic Lady (we’ll call her ILL from now on): I love people, and I think that in a perfect world everyone should be happy and loved! [Insert lame ass weirdo quote here]

Brent: Sorry, no such thing as a perfect world. Here are some examples of why the world isn’t perfect:
-          Idiots like yourself
-          The government
-          Tambourines
-          Body fat
-          More idiots
-          Entitlement
-          Kristen Stewart

ILL: I’m offended simply because you said body fat, and I slightly resemble that remark. Plus, I love the Partridge Family. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re a horrible, evil person who wants to sacrifice children to Kali Ma, just like they did in that Temple of Doom movie, by making them work in mines filled with Styrofoam and melancholy.

Brent:  Why are you my friend on Facebook again? You do know that I’m only here to make you look like a moron in front of a potentially huge amount of people, right?

ILL: I can’t figure out how to unfriend you, and I’m losing friends because what you’re saying actually makes sense to everyone but me. Since I seem to be the only one who doesn’t get it, I’ll just try to make you look bad by saying you’re a racist, homophobic meanie.

Brent: What if I said I was possibly wrong about Kristen Stewart? (I would just like to interject here that he is so NOT wrong about Kristen Stewart. She is the perfect example of all that is unnatural and evil in this world, and she is probably the antichrist.)

Damian + Kristen Stewart = The UberAntichrist

ILL: Oh my god, Brent! I’m so sorry if I offended you. I didn’t know that you could possibly be on the side of shiny, Adonis-like vampires. Unfriend me if you think I’m being intolerant and cruel.

I told Brent that I would’ve unfriended her the minute she said “I love people,” because who freakin' loves PEOPLE? But that just goes to show how intolerant of idiots I’ve become. Also, that Brent is so much better at putting up with this kind of crap than I am just because he has fun showing other people how horribly wrong they are.

 Do you think we live in a perfect world? Are vampires actually shiny? Should I have put a goatee on Kristen Stewart? You can always leave feedback, if you like.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Was it Writing All Along?

Looking back, I think writing has always been it for me. You know, the big it. I only really started thinking about this today, but now that I've started, I remember wanting to be a writer for most of my life. When I was ten I wrote two mystery books (without much mystery in them) for my English class. I don't remember too much about them, but I remember the main character was a mouse who acted a bit like Sherlock Holmes, only she was a she mouse and not a he mouse. I also remember my Aunt saying that the ending was a bit of a let down. I'm not really sure what she expected from a ten year old; the most mysterious thing I could think of was that someone had lost something and Mystery Mouse had helped them to find it, which she often did just by poking around in their house.
This is not my Mystery Mouse but someone else's.
There were also many books which I started to write and never finished. Many, many books. Most of them were initially inspired by books like "Black Briar," by William Sleator, "Jacob Have I Loved," by Katherine Paterson, "The Babysitters Club" series, or anything by R.L Stein.

For some reason my books always started with the main character, who was usually a girl, looking out her car window and watching the trees go by while her parents drove her to a new home. Her family had always made her move, and she was always obviously and loudly upset with them. Ten years old and I was already completely unoriginal. How sad for me.

Thankfully, now I've learned a little about blogging and can write about anything, not just girls displaced by their parents' wanting to move to a new town. I'll probably still continue to be unoriginal, though.

The good thing is that instead of taking my cues from young adult romance novelists, I now get my inspiration from other bloggers who are usually very good at writing and often very entertaining. I follow these wonderful writers around much like that shy, dorky girl in high school followed the popular kids around, except I most likely will never be noticed because I'm the super shy girl who, at every school event, is hiding behind the big, fat guy and no one will ever know I'm there because no one ever wants to look at the big, fat guy. That and the popular people are now regular, everyday people who are gifted with exceptionally healthy doses of humor, probably from being an unpopular high school stalker. So we've come full circle, and THAT'S why I've finally decided that I want to be a writer like the cool kids.

Were you an unpopular high school stalker? Have you recently found your own big IT? Do you have any writing tips? Can you tell I'm fishing for comments? You can leave one, if you like.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Bicycling Irritants

People on bicycles annoy me. Make that adult people on bicycles annoy me. I'm not talking about kids who randomly ride their bikes in the street, or have someone on their handlebars, or have no idea what is going on around them while they are riding their bikes. All those things are pretty irritating but I know what to expect with kids. No, I'm talking about grown men and woman who know better and honestly need to come off it. Take a look at this news story, which was aired on KHON2 last week, and which helps to explain some of my loathing. "Elderly woman dies after being hit by bicyclist". That's right you pedaling reprobates, a bicyclist in downtown Honolulu blew through a red light and hit and killed an elderly woman who was walking through a cross walk.

The typical bicyclist in my neighborhood, only not usually this good looking.
Now the reason why this got me so upset, beside the fact that someone actually got killed, is that there are so many cyclists who ride around my town like they are God's gift to anything with wheels. Hell, they even think that they're better than four wheel users. I can almost hear them thinking as they peddle by, I'm so cool because I'm being healthy and Eco-conscious by riding my bike around and you suck because you're walking, or driving a car, or plain just not me. Earth to stupid snob on a bike, your being a pedal pusher does not give you the right to disregard the laws!

Now don't get me wrong, I love riding my bike. For a while I was even biking my way to work because I wanted to be healthier. I also understand that it's a fairly cheap mode of transportation and totally better for the environment compared to all those icky cars. I get all of that, okay? The only thing that I take issue with is that many bicyclists do not know that by choosing to ride a bike they have agreed to the responsibility to obey the traffic laws just like any other operator of a vehicle. Which means no blowing through red lights, signaling before making any turns, using a bike lane when available, paying attention to your surroundings (like not texting while riding), and riding on the correct side of the road. All pretty simple stuff. If you can do these things than good on you, go ahead and pedal for all you're worth..

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

I Need a Skyrim Patch

Why oh why am I not doing productive things like figuring out some crochet patterns, crocheting stuff, learning how to knit cute little baby beanies, keeping up with Pinterest, furthering my cooking skills, learning about new games, making cards, or starting on that DAMN scrapbook? Because I can't stop playing Skyrim!

Also, have you noticed that everything on my to-do is either very sedentary (that's your word for the day, look it up bitches) or has something to do with food? This is why I have to make time in my extremely busy schedule - read SHED-jool - to go to the gym and work out.

There are so many things that can be said about this picture.
It's all about the cup, the boobs, the burger king crown...
If I could do TKB and crochet at the same time without somehow getting my work all covered in stinky sweat I would totally do it. But alas, it is nigh impossible. Maybe if I completely covered myself in latex?
This is the only work out I usually get while crocheting
Anyway, I did manage to spill stuff on Brent’s pants that will make it look like he’s peed all over himself the next time he puts them on. I guess I could put THAT on my list of things accomplished for today. That + Skyrim = pretty loser day, if you ask me.

Cue Adam Sandler to tell everyone that only the cool kids pee their pants so that Brent doesn't feel bad.
Also I honestly can't find any reason not to play Skyrim right now aside from the fact that I think my weight gain is directly proportional to my level gain. Man this game is like freakin' game crack in a weird otherworldly Farmvillesque kind of way. Skyrim is all about life as usual where your usual life includes killing monsters and undead; crafting armor, potions, and food; and killing dragons who show up randomly as you're adventuring.

Just watch out for those arrows
It's the little things that make playing Skyrim the stupendous and engrossing experience that it is. Take for example the bard's college and the burning of King Olaf.

The bard's college is located in Skyrim's Solitude and is filled with broke, artistic, eccentric people; much like our Art Institutes.This special needs college calls to the outcasts of Skyrim, those without the ability or nobility to do anything but recite or sing. The best thing about joining the college is the opportunity to do some quests for the instructors. The quests themselves are not necessarily special, however the rewards are very, very worthwhile. Because these bards are completely broke your payment for services rendered comes in the form of experience (and no it's not THAT type of experience, you sick person you). Each instructor will give you different types of knowledge and you can gain skill levels in things like stealth, various schools of magic, and combat. Honestly some of the best rewards in the game.

Don't ask me who that guy at bottom right is, I don't know, but he is wearing dwarven armor.
The only way to enter the Bard's college is to save the ritual "burning of King Olaf" festival. This entry quest is not really important except maybe for the amassing of some good loot; what IS important are the correlations between "The Burning of King Olaf" and "Burning Man". Actually there are only two parallels here but I think they have significance. One, in both "King Olaf" and "Burning Man" they set an effigy on fire. Two, both are festivals put on by the dangerously artistic. See? I'm totally on to something here.

I had front row seats for the burning of King Olaf because I was integral in the festival's revival.
Did I mention that Skyrim also has great music? Here's a video for all of those people out there who, like me, need someone to invent a Skyrim patch so we can cope with the withdrawals. Also for anyone who looked up "Skyrim soundtrack" on iTunes.


By the way, I'm supposed to let you know that the music in this video belongs to Bethesda and composer Jeremy Soule, and it's taken from the game "The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim". Also, you should totally check out the other videos from Malukah and her blog. She's a bard of the highest order and also my new music idol. Now, I've got to go purchase my Skyrim Soundtrack.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

My Not-So-Idle Hands

I have been SCREAMING at my fingers for the past half an hour now trying to get them to crochet something comprehensible. I ended up with this feeble excuse for the beginning of a doily:

Yes, that is a doily on my bed.
Some days it feels like my hands have been taken over by a demon with no understanding of the basics of crochet. If only the devil in my hands were able to do something right.

How can I possibly be this effin' clumsy after 12 years of doing crochet? Now granted, I have been sick off and on for the past week and I am trying to do some extremely delicate thread crochet, but come off it hands! There are no excuses for this amount of sheer clumsy uncoordination.

My hands are like this, but hands, not feet.

All of this hand-hating made me think about other people whose hands might have betrayed them.
First, I have George Washington. Good 'ol Georgie could not tell a lie and chopped down his dad's cherry tree, but he left out the part about his hands being under the control of a cherry hating demon.

My next subject is another president, Richard Nixon. According to the Chicago Tribune, Nixon supposedly got in trouble one sunny day in Brazil when his hands flashed the OK sign as he was stepping off the plane. In Brazil, OK means "up yours" or "fuck off," whatever you think the equivalent to the middle finger is. I think Tricky Dick can reliably blame this faux pas on demonically controlled hands.

After these two worthy candidates I can only site characters in fiction and movies. Lady Macbeth's hands betrayed her murderous intentions. The poor lady not only was unable to get a good night sleep, but her hands totally gave away her guilty conscience by constantly trying to wash themselves of her role in her husband's act of regicide.

In "Idle Hands" Anton Tobias' evil right hand kills both of his best buds before he manages to cut it off. He still has to follow the creepy thing around for the rest of the movie because it keeps trying to kill Jessica Alba's character, the super cute spunky girl across the street, whatever her name is.

And lastly, but most certainly the bestly, Ash from the "Evil Dead" films. Not only does Ash's hand, and the rest of his body, get possessed by a murdering devil thing, but he manages to cut off his own hand and bionically attach a chainsaw to his bloody stump.
Maybe I can somehow graft crochet needles to my palm, since my fingers keep disobeying me. Although that may make me more like Edward Scissor hands than awesome evil-whatever slaying Ash Williams.