Open a jazz/easy listening music bar in town.
Copy and paste with my eyes - with a limit on living matter other than snakes who i shall ctrl c and ctrl p a version of their own head on to their tail-end in order for there to be a madly internal war and cannibalism.
Have 3 mobile fingers that i can telepathically manoeuvre around my form to scratch those difficult to reach itchy spots, massage me in times of awful stress and even cushion the blows of when i am in some sort of ungentlemanly fisticuffs - there'd be a ban on the digits performing acts of self-pleasure as i'd convince them to be at it all day long, one of them scampering downwards to unravel a sock-thread to create a glove for the tri-wankery or absorbent spunk-sponge.
Control P is print, you need V!
Pick the winning lottery numbers
Play the guitar