Thursday, November 12, 2009
from Marijuana Logs
‘Hello, is this the Sheriff’s Office?’
‘Yes. What can I do for you?’
‘I’m calling to report ’bout my neighbor Virgil Smith. He’s hidin’ marijuana inside his firewood! Don’t quite know how he gets it inside them logs, but he’s a hidin’ it there.’
‘Thank you very much for the call, sir.’
The next day, twelve Sheriff’s Deputies descend on Virgil’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 sneer at Virgil and leave.
Shortly thereafter, the phone rings at Virgil’s house.
‘Hey, Virgil! This here’s Floyd….Did the Sheriff come?’
‘Yeah!’
‘Did they chop your firewood?’
‘Yep!’
‘Happy Birthday, buddy!’
‘Yes. What can I do for you?’
‘I’m calling to report ’bout my neighbor Virgil Smith. He’s hidin’ marijuana inside his firewood! Don’t quite know how he gets it inside them logs, but he’s a hidin’ it there.’
‘Thank you very much for the call, sir.’
The next day, twelve Sheriff’s Deputies descend on Virgil’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 sneer at Virgil and leave.
Shortly thereafter, the phone rings at Virgil’s house.
‘Hey, Virgil! This here’s Floyd….Did the Sheriff come?’
‘Yeah!’
‘Did they chop your firewood?’
‘Yep!’
‘Happy Birthday, buddy!’
