When I was 23, in my younger and stupider days, I drank an ENTIRE bottle of Southern Comfort, without chasers..
Needless to say, I spent the better portion of the night sitting outside, puking my guts out. Then when I finally felt able to crawl (YES, CRAWL) into the house and up the stairs to my room, I kept saying "please God do NOT let me throw up again". Our bathroom was downstairs but my bedroom was upstairs..
After that, I've never gotten drunk ever again. NOPE NOPE NOPE... after the hell I went through that night, fuhgeddaboudit!!! lol