Corona to apical

Whiskey induced is an affront to my regretful gorge into a microwave pizza and the subsequent satiation of blood rushing from head to stomach to care for renewed body activity. I tell you what I do when I do it. And I ain't always proud. But don't you dare speculate with my basis for being in the balance. I thinks my balls off all life long and sweat the fact that I don't give my own feelings the time they deserve. But my Brain is worthy of way more than the presumption of a "whiskey-induced" nuance. I work and deserve far more than a slight like that. Especially from you. You've saddened me.