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- You spend a lot of your time trying to apprehend Big Macs.

- You have two holsters: One for your gun, one for Italian Sausage.

- The last time you saw your feet, “Kojak” was on in prime time.

- Instead of yelling “Freeze!” you yell “Fritos!”

- Even a patrol car’s big block engine can’t propel you more than 30 mph.

- You sometimes work undercover as a sofa.

- You take the phrase, “Take a bite out of crime” too literally.

- Several times a year, rescue workers have to use jaws of life to get you out of your squad car.

- Your ass is known as the fourth precinct.

- You’re frequently used as a roadblock.

Q: How do you make a french horn sound like a trombone?

A: Take your hand out of the bell and lose all sense of taste.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the skies,
Air defenses were up, with electronic eyes.
Combat pilots were nestled in ready-room beds,
As enemy silhouettes danced in their heads.

Every jet on the apron, each SAM in its tube,
Was triply-redundant, linked to the Blue Cube,
And ELINT and AWACS gave coverage so dense
That nothing that flew could slip through our defense.

When out of the klaxon arose such a clatter
I dashed to the screen to see what was the matter;
I increased the gain and then, quick as a flash,
Fine-adjusted the filters to damp out the hash.

And there found the source of the warning we’d heeded:
An incoming blip, by eight escorts preceded.
“Alert status red!” went the word down the wire,
As we gave every system the codes that meant “FIRE!”

On Aegis! Up Patriot, Phalanx and Hawk,
And scramble our fighters–let’s send the whole flock.
Launch decoys and missiles, use chaff by the yard!
Get the kitchen sink up! Call the National Guard!

They turned toward the target, moved toward it, converged.
Till the tracks on the radar all finally merged,
And the sky was lit up with a demonic light,
As the foe met his fate in the high arctic night.

So we sent out some recon to look for debris,
Yet all that they found, both on land and on sea
Were some toys, a red hat, a charred left leather boot,
Broken sleigh bells, white hair, and a deer’s parachute.

Now it isn’t quite Christmas, with Saint Nick shot down.
There are unhappy kids in each village and town.
For the Spirit of Christmas can’t hope to evade
All the web of defenses we’ve carefully made.

But a crash program’s on: Working hard, night and day,
All the elves are constructing a radar-proof sleigh.

So let’s wait for next Christmas, in cheer and in health,
For the future has hope: Santa’s coming by stealth!

President Clinton and the Pope died on the same day, and due to an administration foul up, Clinton was sent to heaven and the Pope to hell. The Pope explained the situation to the Devil. He checked out all of the paperwork, called the Pearly Gates admitting office, and the error was acknowledged. The Pope was told, however, that it would take about 24 hours to fix the problem.

The next day the Pope was called in, the Devil said his good-bye, and he began his journey to heaven. Along the way, he met Clinton, who was on his way down. They stopped to chat.

The Pope said, “Sorry about the mix-up. By the time you get to hell, it’s really too late to save any souls.”

Clinton replied, “No problem. I’m sure I’ll be with more familiar company down below, anyway.”

The Pope continued, “Well, I’m really excited about going to heaven.”

“Why’s that?” Clinton asked.

“All my life I’ve wanted to meet the Virgin Mary,” the Pope replied.

“Oh,” said Clinton. “I’m afraid you’re a day late.”

The allergists voted to scratch it.

The dermatologists preferred no rash moves.

The gastroenterologists had a gut feeling about it.

The microsurgeons were thinking along the same vein.

The neurologists thought the administration had a lot of nerve.

The obstetricians stated they were laboring under a misconception.

The ophthalmologists considered the idea short-sighted.

The orthopedists issued a joint resolution.

The parasitologists said, “well, if you encyst.”

The pathologists yelled, “over my dead body!”

The pediatricians said, “grow up.”

The proctologists said, “we are in arrears.”

The psychiatrists thought it was madness.

The surgeons decided to wash their hands of the whole thing.

The radiologists could see right through it.

The internists thought it was a hard pill to swallow.

The plastic surgeons said, “this puts a whole new face on the matter.”

The podiatrists thought it was a big step forward.

The D.O.s thought they were being manipulated.

The urologists felt the scheme wouldn’t hold water.

The anesthesiologists thought the whole idea was a gas.

The cardiologists didn’t have the heart to say no.

And the otologists were deaf to the idea.

The new wing didn’t fly!



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