I have an amazing ability to pay attention to details - the wrong details. Say my apartment looks like a Hurricane Katrina-ravaged bar (a bar hit by said hurricane prior to anyone clearing away the beer bottles). I'll ignore that and polish the silver or organize my ribbon drawer.
The same affliction has hit with my I-could-kick-Lohan's-butt-in-a-freckle-contest face (captured at the Coppertone booth to highlight one's wildly bad behavior under the sun without Coppertone). There are so many things to say: (1) HHH, you look like Magnum PI, only your 'stash is made of melanomas! (2) HHH, stop falling asleep wearing your glasses, it's making linear dents in your nose. (3) HHH, you look quite nice as a demon in a dog collar. Ptah! What gets me sweatin' and agonizin'? My asymmetrical eyebrows. It's all I've been able to see for two days.