You know when you drink excessively at an incredibly boring Sunday night party and then take a sleeping pill (or 2 – you have a big meeting in the morning!), you pass out in approximately 2.3 minutes but then wake up at 4 am with the mother of all headaches and a tongue that feels like a marmoset with your clothes still on and two mascara rings on your pillow? No? Me either.
The Goods on Karl Pilkington Shop
Agency Tart 
Marmoset. That’s a great analogy.
(P.S. I too have no idea what you’re talking about. I have never woken up with contact lenses stuck to my face.)