“Hello, is this the FBI?” “Yes, what do you want?”
“I’m calling to report my neighbor Billy Bob Smith! He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood.”
“Thank you very much for the call, sir.”
The next day, the FBI agents descend on Billy Bob’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 swore at Billy Bob and left.
The phone rings at Billy Bob’s house. “Hey, Billy Bob! Did the FBI come?”
“Yeah!”
“Did they chop your firewood?”
“Yep.”
“Happy Birthday, Buddy!”
Some one thinks my house is the National Weather Service.
When I get home from a business trip, some man always calls and asks, "Is the coast clear?"