A man goes into a bar and proceeds to get completely plastered. If there was a falling-down drunk, he’d be a glued-to-the-floor drunk. The barkeep pours him into a cab to take him home.

Next evening, the man returns still looking pale and hungover. “Hey, bartender, you asshole! Why’d you let me get so drunk last night?”

Bartender replies, “You are an adult, sir, and should be able to take care of yourself. I just pour the drinks here.”

Plopping down on a barstool, the man continues, “No, I don’t think you understand. I was so drunk last night that I went home and blew chunks.”

Getting slightly angry, the bartender counters, “Not surprising, sir, that you would get sick and puke. Serves you right!”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand. Chunks is the name of my dog!”