Generally, I try and block such memories, but here's the first that comes to mind...
In my ever more distant youth, I was invited to a house party of a friend-of-a-friend whom I had gotten to know, somewhat. Anyway, started in the evening, nothing out of the ordinary, much alcohol, much food, much MORE alcohol (you get the picture)...
The last several things I remember was dancing (yes, me dancing, 3 a.m.) in the dining room and deciding I needed to take a breather. As I sat on the living room sofa, my weakened brain took notice of a bottle of Jamaican Dark Rum and instantly
"that looks tasty!"
Lifted the bottle to my mouth, took a healthy swig and then, "Wow, it seems really warm in here."
Moved to front stoop (4 a.m.) and with little or no effort
"SPLASHDOWN" (so to speak)
The host gently helped me up, tossed bucket of water (or three) at the scene of the crime and told me, "Don't worry, its not a party until someone hurls." He then, graciously loaned me a place to sleep until 9 a.m. at which point I dragged my sorry carcass home.