Alcohol has been known to lower inhibitions, skew your sense of judgement and generally encourage you to make terrible decisions, which is why so many people end their binges by inhaling whatever greasy food is easiest to get their hands on.
In college, this meant ordering from the generically-named Chinese restaurant (probably Happy Garden or Lucky Dragon) a mile from campus that was the only place to get orange-colored chunks of vaguely identifiable meat delivered at 3 am.
You could only place orders over the phone, and the language barrier was amplified by my drunken slurring.
It added an unprecedented level of intrigue and mystery to the delivery because you never really knew what was going to be in the bag when you opened it.
However, as I've gotten older and my tastes have become more defined, there's one drunk food I turn to more often than others to constantly wake me up from a vicious bout of indigestion in the middle of the night: pizza.
This may also have something to do with the fact I live directly above a pizza place that closes at 4 am, but I've never been an expert at differentiating between correlation and causation.
I've found a reheated slice does a terrific job at temporarily solving my problem (the "problem" in this case being "a lack of pizza"), but drunk people and pizza don't always get along.