The phone rings at FBI headquarters. "Hello?"
"Hello, is this FBI?"
"Yes. What do you want?"
"I'm calling to report my neighbor Bill Brown as a drug dealer. He is hiding drugs in his firewood."
"We will check it out."
Next day, the FBI come over to Brown's house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept, break every piece of wood, find no drugs, and leave. The phone rings at Brown's house. "Hello, Bill! Did the FBI come?"
"Did they chop your firewood?"
"Yes, they did."
"Okay, now it's your turn to call. I need my vegetable garden plowed up."
I was driving home from work when I was pulled over for not wearing a seat belt. Three days later, I got the same ticket, at the same stop, from the same cop.
“So, have you learned anything?” asked the cop.
“Yes, I have,” I began. “I’ve learned it's time to find a new way home from work.”