Right. Confession time.
A few years ago, a couple in our village declared they were having a Eurovision party. It was held a week after the real event. They invited enough people to cover every country. Men had to bring booze from the country, women some food. Oh, and we all had to dress up appropriately too. Cue onion sellers, dutch hookers, ABBA lookalikes and, erm, the Pope.
Anyway, they put the dreaded contest on, and with every song came a round of shots and a tiny amount of food. Most of the ladies just whizzed their shots into the bushes when no-one was looking, and of course we blokes just downed ours. Utter carnage. Marriages wrecked, lots of people lost walking home, livers no doubt damaged etc. I have never again been so drunk since that night. It was like Dean Martin said - "You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on." I was still holding on the next day.
The good thing is I don't remember watching the Eurovision Song Contest at all.