Where do you live?
Flaherty never ever learned and would seek the fruits of the grain and the
grape at every chance he could. So no wonder that Friday night, the holy of holy
times when the work of the week was done, found him legless as usual and happily
traipsing home with Billy McGee. As they sang and shuffled along O'Connell Street
they were confronted by a very large policeman.
'Now my fine fellows,' he glowered. 'Would you be telling me where you live?'
'Well,' said McGee, 'I live at no fixed abode.' 'And I,' added Flaherty, 'live
in the flat above!'