Highly unfortunate personal-appearance issues, which, taken together, could possibly cause me to be confused with a five-dollar whore on the last night of shore leave:

1. My chapped lips.
2. The zit at the corner of my mouth.
2. The mass of scrapes and bruises on my knees that resulted when I slammed into my bike pedal and engaged in a poorly exectued series of acrobatics, respectively.
3. The lemon yogurt I spilled all down my shirt and inner thighs.

Don't worry, though.  Because I've moisturized, dressed modestly, dabbed up the mess, and pointed these problems out to everybody who reads this, I'm sure no one will ever notice.