A final diagnosis
Thought I'd let my doctor check me,
'Cause I didn't feel quite right. . .
All those aches and pains annoyed me
And I couldn't sleep at night.

He could find no real disorder
But he wouldn't let it rest.
What with Medicare and Blue Cross,
We would do a couple tests.

To the hospital he sent me
Though I didn't feel that bad.
He arranged for them to give me
Every test that could be had.

I was fluoroscoped and cystoscoped,
My aging frame displayed.
Stripped, on an ice cold table,
While my gizzards were x-rayed.

I was checked for worms and parasites,
For fungus and the crud,
While they pierced me with long needles
Taking samples of my blood.

Doctors came to check me over,
Probed and pushed and poked around,
And to make sure I was living
They then wired me for sound.

They have finally concluded,
Their results have filled a page.
What I have will someday kill me;
My affliction is old age.

A staged wedding to bust dealers
As supposedly reported on CNN:

Undercover police, staging the wedding of "a drug kingpin's daughter", let it be known on the street that dealers were "invited" (i. e. Expected to attend).

The bride and groom were police, as was the band, bartender, and about half the guests. The band playing at the wedding was "S. P. O. C." (COPS, backwards), and the wedding went through the full ceremony, including the dancing afterward.

The long-sought dealers were arrested after the "band" took their break. The last song the band played before taking its break? "I Fought The Law, And The Law Won"