Since you're all keeping notes, I have something to add to your lists of "Things Never To Do Drunk At 6 a.m." Right after the entry for "Tell your ex-boyfriend you still love him" please write "Feed the cat." When I woke up Saturday morning, my entire kitchen was filled with crunchy cat food, half of which was smashed and stepped on. I didn't even know that much food came in a box, but it was seriously up to my waist.
Luckily my cat is gross and diseased and hates her bowl so she ate the stuff off the floor first before continuing her habit of pushing the food out of her bowl onto the floor. She hates her water bowl too, so I have to keep the toilet open or she'll turn to dust.
My cat is a pestilence.
Oh, and don't order a gigantic rare hamburger with bacon and avocado and extra mayo at 5 a.m. because you probably don't need the calories and your stomach will feel funny the next day unless of course it's because you ate some of the cat food and can't remember. That's the kind of mystery that doesn't make you more sexy.