  Ah yes, drunk off my ass, I remember it like it was yesterday... I must have been about eighteen, me and the guy I was dating were house sitting for these rich people who's house is on a golf course (that's right green # 14). They had a hot tub on the deck, I made brownies, we had like 3 other friends over. That was the night I met goldschlagger. I started off with a fuzzy navel- to this day I hate peach alcohol, then moved right to the gold. I'd take a shot, proclaim I didn't feel anything and pour myself another. And another. And another... pretty soon a friend looks at the bottle and asked if I was the only who had had any. Yeah, well 20? 30? mins later I couldn't even sit up straight in the hot tub, I had to be physically lifted out of the tub when all of a sudden they say I went quiet.
I got over heated and I somehow made it inside the air-conditioned house where I was lying on my back until they came inside to check on me. I remember being carried up the stairs over the big guy's shoulder and put in the shower where I couldn't even stand at this point. Another friend checked on me and held my hair when I vomitted a good 3 time before I was put in bed where I slept for a good 11 hours and woke up refreshed the next morning.
To this day I'm not allowed to make or pour my own drinks says my friends. And the nickname "Super Anita Champion of the World" has stuck ever since from when I was apparently yelling at the top of my lungs when I was slung over the shoulder of the big guy, as he carried me upstairs. 
