Reminds me of when I celebrated the Millenium new year in Ireland. I went to a small village on the Westcliffs that consisted of 2 bed & breakfasts, and 3 pubs. By the time I reached the third pub, it was 11PM and I was shnookered. All the locals would see this lone Yank in his leather jacket, and start buying me drinks.
I don't remember midnight. Somehow I awoke at 7AM, on my bed, still fully clothed and in my leather jacket. I went back to sleep until about 7PM, when I ventured out to a local pub to get some dinner. Here is where I learned that a burger in Ireland means chopped sirloin in brown gravy & onions. I couldn't finish it.
STAY STRONG, BRUTHA!