I've always wanted to try the Red Dward 'Drunken Delight'

The triple egg chilly chutney sandwich - but I get so arrse-holed I can never remember what's supposed to go in it - so I end up just heating a tin of beans with half a block of cheddar and dash of Worcester instead:

If you can cook, prepare food, warm food, operate cooking things........... your not pissed enough!!!

I put a Fray Bentos pie in the oven one night after a session. I was that rubbered I was sat in front of the oven staring through the glass willing it to turn golden brown so it could offer up it's meaty contents for me, after 15 minutes I was done and scranned it down to it's ice cold centre but not before I'd dropped it on the deck and scooped it all back into the dish. It was lush at the time.

1 can baked beans, opened
1 spoon
1 face, liberally doused in vodbena (all worship at the feet of Moods)

Dip spoon in beans, scooping up a good dollop!
Apply to open mouth
Repeat until sick!

I must also confess to times working in the Reaction Forces Officers' Mess in JHQ about 8 years ago. After a night on the lash I would often go straight to work in the early hours of the morning rather than go home - It made sense, as I avoided being late for work and a brew would be waiting for me when I woke up. I occasionally decided it would be a good idea to help myself to some food before going to sleep; many's the time I got into work in the kitchen the following morning to find a stove top full of exploded egg, wall full of ketchup, etc. I may not be a good cook when I'm pissed, but I get the job done ;)

1x Large pot noodle (Pref Chicken & Mushroom)

Add boiling water, drain tin of hot dog sausages and insert into 'Pot'.

Try not to fall asleep whilst contents 'cook'.

Devour.

Once got into enormous trouble with a female friend who insanely agreed to put me & the RN Brother-in-Law up when we were en route to France on a massive booze cruise to France. We promised that as she had a University flat inspection by the landlord we would be good.

Big mistake. She left us to have another quiet scoop at about 22:30 while she pushed off o get some beauty sleep, which being a bit of a minger she needed.

Cue about 02:30 the following day when your correspondent and No 1 RN Stunt Drunkard made our way home. Naturally the munchies had set in.

We were not popular the next morning when our midnight snack of a dozen scrambled eggs seasoned with a whole head of garlic & a bottle of Encona lovingly served on a bed of Garibaldi biscuits (cheap student hadn't bought bread) was discovered, especially as the flat lingered not only with the predicatable aroma of our gastronomy but also the after effects of a gallon-and-a-half each of really very yeasty real ale...

Lard on toast. At 0200. Yummy.

Fry abundant garlic, chillies and a tin of tuna (or corned beef) in a pot. Add beans to pot until piping hot. Add chunks of cheese.

Trough the lot.

Open the window.

Your memory of going to bed will be miraculously returned to you about 10 minutes after waking up. Resistance is futile.

Came home the other night a tad worse for wear, didn't fancy a kebab, so toasted some bread, nuked a tin of Heinz Spag Bolognese, fried some square sausage and eggs. Place toast on plate, lay sausage on top, cover with spag bol and then fried eggs on top of that, 'andsome even down to the egg yolk dribble down the front of my shirt