I didn't have a hangover, and didn't puke either. I was also drunk that night to the degree that I was dragged halfway across the house by my arm because I couldn't get up and needed to go to wherever I was crashing for the night. It was a blast though. I'd say the thing that put me down to that point was the seventh Vodka shot (I don't drink very often at all and hadn't been drunk for four months before that), as well as the beer that ended up in my mouth while I got attacked by my friends, who all shook up their beer cans and opened them in my direction, like they were champagne bottles after the Super Bowl or something. I smelled awful.