A couple of my friends and I decided to have a bit of a party on Thanksgiving weekend, so we got half-bottles of gin, rye and scotch. The night involved running around a park, nearly rolling down a big hill (one of my friends actually did roll down said hill) and then getting carried back to my friend's basement where I passed out in a semi-concious state.
I remember swearing a lot at my friends because they were busily devouring a 4 litre bucket of vanilla ice cream when I just wanted the world to stop moving.
My first hangover the next day was absolute shit, and to top it off it was Thanksgiving. My parents made me attend the dinner and my baba laughed at me for getting drunk.
We were young and didn't know how to drink yet.
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