Clifford Jokes

The phone rings at FBI headquarters.
"Hello? I'm calling to report my neighbor, Clifford. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood!"
"Thank you very much for the call, sir."
The next day, FBI agents descend on the neighbor'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 swear at the neighbors and leave.
The phone rings at the neighbors house. Hey, Clifford, did the FBI come?"
"Yep."
"Did they chop your firewood?"
"Yep."
"Great, now it's your turn to call. I need my garden plowed."

The phone rings at FBI headquarters. "Hello? I'm calling to report my neighbor, Clifford. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood!" "Thank you very much for the call, sir." The next day, FBI agents descend on the neighbor'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 swear at the neighbors and leave. The phone rings at the neighbors house. Hey, Clifford, did the FBI come?" "Yep." "Did they chop your firewood?" "Yep." "Great, now it's your turn to call. I need my garden plowed."

The phone rings at FBI headquarters."Hello? I'm calling to report my neighbor, Clifford. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood!""Thank you very much for the call, sir."The next day, FBI agents descend on the neighbor'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 swear at the neighbors and leave. The phone rings at the neighbors house. Hey, Clifford, did the FBI come?""Yep.""Did they chop your firewood?""Yep.""Great, now it's your turn to call. I need my garden plowed."

The phone rings at FBI headquarters.

"Hello? I'm calling to report my neighbor, Clifford. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood!"

"Thank you very much for the call, sir."

The next day, FBI agents descend on the neighbor'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 swear at the neighbors and leave.

The phone rings at the neighbors house. Hey, Clifford, did the FBI come?"

"Yep."

"Did they chop your firewood?"

"Yep."

"Great, now it's your turn to call. I need my garden plowed."

Clifford had felt guilty all day long. No matter how hard he tried to forget about it, he just couldn't.
But, every once in a while, he would hear that small inner voice trying to reassure him: "Clifford. Stop worrying about this. You aren't the first doctor to sleep with one of your patients, and you certainly won't be the last."
But invariably the other voice would snap him back to reality: "Clifford. You're a veterinarian."