Levels of Coley Drunkenness

Jen brought this up in a comment a few days ago. Thought it would be fun:
Levels of drunkenness (WARNING: levels may vary based on oven temperature or high altitude. See alternate baking directions for high altitudes)
We’ll bypass drinks one through three, as that’s just barely getting to the point I’m willing to call “drunk.” And by number of drinks, I’m talking about the only drinks I get drunk on normally: shots of tequila, rum/whisky that are about 20% soda. IF you’re drinking beer, multiply by two. Should be about the same results, only with a lot more peeing. By drink four, we’ve bypassed the horny stage, and the hugging stage and are well on our way to:

Drink 4: Loud. At this stage, everything being said is either hilarious, or infuriating. Either way, I will be yelling at you. Loudly.
Drink 5: Crazy. At this stage, everything is a good idea. Drunken marathon running? Certainly. Cart wheeling into oncoming traffic? Yes. Why didn’t I think of that?
Drink 6: Naked. I don’t think this needs more explanation.
Drink 7: Delayed. Everything is eventually seen, heard and understood, just about 5 minutes later.
Drink 8: Sex. At this point it sounds like the only good idea ever. We should all be having sex immediately, if not sooner. Of course, this is also the stage when you are completely unable to complete the act of sex. Gotta love the catch 22 there.
Drink 9: Stupid. At this stage, I’m talking, and so is everybody else, but I’m pretty sure real words are no longer being used. At least, not in any properly construed way.
Drink 10: Mute. At this point words will no longer be formed. Sounds are impossible. Smiling dumbly while trying to figure out who these people are, and why they’re in your bed is the only thing left to do.
Drink 11 and beyond: officially retarded. Unable to eat, bathe one’s self, recognize household items or understand their uses. Your IQ has actually dropped to about 45, putting you at the same cognitive level of most potted plants. If you haven’t vomited yet, oh dear lord, you’ll wish you had come 9 am.
That’s about as far as I remember ever getting. If anyone can remember getting further along than that, oh dear lord, call me. The best part is, I tend to "add on" stages. So, after drink 6, I'm still loud, and crazy and on the way to getting naked.
To put this into perspective: Friday night, I consumed approximately 5 tequila shots over the course of the evening. It was at this stage that walking around West Oakland at 1 am, shouting loudly and bothering the prostitutes was the only thing I wanted to do. Sound a little crazy? See the chart above.