Dope on the other end of the phone

A man in Los Angeles finds about 20 pounds of bagged MJ in his back yard. He does the right thing. No, dorkhead. He called LAPD.

The conversation:

“’I’m sorry, sir, everyone in your district is out on an emergency. Could you drive it to the station yourself?’

“I manage to avoid blowing up at her.’

“’Yeah, uhhh … I don’t think driving around with 20 pounds of drugs in my car is really a good idea.’

“’Oh, sorry, sir, of course not. Well let me see if I can get someone at the desk. Please hang on.’ Another small eternity drips past. ‘OK, we’ll be sending our supervisor out, no one else is available.’”

Also a fark.