While on patrol, I arrested a burglar who’d injured himself running from a home. He told me he’d broken in and unhooked the phone before searching for valuables. But he’d panicked when he heard a woman’s voice. I entered the house and heard the same voice: “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try your call again.”
Seen on a marquee outside the Clinton Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison in Dannemora, New York: The Dannemora fire department reminds you it’s fire prevention week. Practice your escape plan.”
I had just pulled over someone for driving under the influence when another car pulled up behind us. I stopped what I was doing and ventured back to see if the driver needed assistance.
“No, I don’t need any help,” he said, reeking of booze. Then, pointing to the flashing cherry top on the roof of my cruiser, he continued, “I just stopped for the red light.”
What do you call a clairvoyant midget who escaped from prison?
A small medium at large.
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