You sit down and think to yourself, "Hey, it's only beer." So you have a few.
And then your brain insists on doing the math, trying to figure out just how much you've had to drink.
Eventually you figure out that you've actually downed an awful lot. Then you decide to post something in your CN blog about it just so the rest of the world can know that you've intentionally poisoned yourself. And, should you not post for another couple of hours, you hope someone might take the hint and call an ambulance. (Please remember to say: "He's in the living room, lying in front of the TV. His eyes may or may not be open, but that's no indication of consciousness."
Oh, and by the way, it tastes like crap. I say that fully aware that I will have no recollection of its taste in the morning, apart from the lingering taste not too dissimilar from having had a waterfowl nesting on one's tongue all night. Neither will I remember making this post. I rather suspect I'll forget my home address, too.