Saturday, May 12, 2007
THE FEDERAL BUREA OF INVESTIGATION
The phone rings at FBI headquarters. “Hello?”
“I’m calling to report my neighbour. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood.”
“Thank you very much for the call, sir.”
The next day, FBI agents descend on the neighbour’s house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They swear at the neighbors and leave.
The phone rings at the neighbors house. Hey, Adrian, did the FBI come?” “Yep.”
“Did they chop your firewood?” “Yep.”
“Great, now it’s your turn to call. I need my garden ploughed.”
“I’m calling to report my neighbour. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood.”
“Thank you very much for the call, sir.”
The next day, FBI agents descend on the neighbour’s house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They swear at the neighbors and leave.
The phone rings at the neighbors house. Hey, Adrian, did the FBI come?” “Yep.”
“Did they chop your firewood?” “Yep.”
“Great, now it’s your turn to call. I need my garden ploughed.”
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