Manager Managing fine

A  Polish man moved to the USA and married an American girl.  Although his English was far from perfect, they got along very well. One day he rushed into a lawyer’s office and asked him if he could arrange a divorce for him.  The lawyer said that getting a divorce would depend on the circumstances, and asked him the following questions;  Have you any grounds?  Yes, an acre and a half and a nice little home. No, I mean what is the foundation of this case?  It made of concrete.  I don't think you understand. Does either of you have a real grudge?  No we have a carport, and not need one.  I mean, What are your relations like?  All my relations still in Poland  Is there any infidelity in your marriage?  We have hi-fidelity stereo and good DVD player.   Does your wife beat you up?  No, I always up before her.  Is your wife a nagger?  No, she white.  Why do you want this divorce?  She going to kill me.  What makes you think that?  I got proof.  What kind of proof?  She going to poison me. She buy a bottle at drugstore and put it on shelf in bathroom. I can read, and it say:  Polish Remover.

Before you ask her out, she is both single and taken

Makes you wonder about the Dickinsons…

He came, he saw, he conquered.

I swear

The secret service isn't allowed to yell "get down" at the president anymore.. They should yell "Donald, duck!"

It cost him an arm and a leg.

Then I realized battery not included

“His spokes person.”

"Sir, I think we have a case of human trafficking! There is a very pretty, hot and sexy female passenger on board, who looks quite frightened and the man she is with is a fat old slob who looks like a lecher, very sullen, mean and dangerous!" The captain responds, "Patricia, I've told you this before. This is Air Force One…"

COLONEL ISSUED THE FOLLOWING DIRECTIVE TO HIS OFFICERS: "TOMORROW EVENING AT APPROXIMATELY 2000 HOURS HALLEY'S COMET WILL BE VISIBLE IN THIS AREA. AN EVENT WHICH OCCURS ONLY ONCE EVERY 75 YEARS. HAVE THE MEN FALL OUT IN THE BATTALION AREA IN FATIGUES AND I WILL EXPLAIN THIS RARE PHENOMENON TO THEM. IN CASE OF RAIN. WE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO SEE ANYTHING, SO ASSEMBLE THE MEN IN THE THEATER AND I WILL SHOW THEM FILMS OF IT." EXECUTIVE OFFICER TO COMPANY COMMANDER: "BY ORDER OF THE COLONEL, TOMORROW AT 2000 HOURS, HALLEY'S COMET WILL APPEAR ABOVE THE BATTALION AREA. IF IT RAINS, FALL THE MEN OUT IN FATIGUES, THEN MARCH TO THE THEATER WHERE THIS RARE PHENOMENON WILL TAKE PLACE, SOMETHING WHICH OCCURS ONLY ONCE EVERY 75 YEARS." COMPANY COMMANDER TO LIEUTENANT: "BY ORDER OF THE COLONEL IN FATIGUES AT 2000 HOURS TOMORROW EVENING, THE PHENONOMENAL HALLEY'S COMET WILL APPEAR IN THE THEATER. IN CASE OF RAIN, IN THE BATTALION AREA, THE COLONEL WILL GIVE ANOTHER ORDER, SOMETHING WHICH OCCURS ONCE EVERY 75 YEARS." LEUTENANT TO SERGEANT: "TOMORROW AT 2000 HOURS, THE COLONEL WILL APPEAR IN THE THEATER WITH HALLEY'S COMET, SOMETHING WHICH HAPPENS EVERY 75 YEARS. IF IT RAINS, THE COLONEL WILL ORDER THE COMET INTO THE BATTALION AREA." SERGEANT TO SQUAD: "WHEN IT RAINS TOMORROW AT 2000 HOURS. THE PHENOMENAL 75 YEAR OLD GENERAL HALLEY, ACCOMPANIED BY THE COLONEL, WILL DRIVE HIS COMET THROUGH THE BATTALION AREA THEATER IN FATIGUES."

So I simply sat down and looked comfortable, that did the trick

Rick O’Shea

On the right palm, on the forehead, on the left palm, and on the abdomen. The first victim is discovered in the Florida Everglades. 0, 8, 2 on his hands and forehead. 5 on his abdomen. “We believe the numbers may be significant,” a uniformed man reads from a prepared statement to the press, “but we cannot say for sure at this time.” Detective Pierce has seen more faces of death than any man should ever have to endure, but this case—this seems different, somehow. Another victim is discovered in the marshes of Louisiana soon after. 0, 8, 0 on her hands and forehead. 19 on her abdomen. Are they connected? Law enforcement in Louisiana contact the agency in Florida. Criminal psychologists and cipher experts are called in to decode the strange numerical messages. Nothing yet. There isn’t enough data. Detective Pierce knows, if there is a deeper meaning, it will only surface with more bodies. To solve the murder, more must be committed. A cruel irony. A third victim emerges, and a macabre certainty is apparent—a serial killer. 0, 6, 9; 2 “What could it mean?” Detective Pierce ponders over a table littered with dozens of photographs. The psychological stress begins to weigh on him. He first began the investigation into the mysterious number killings, and he now makes it his mission to discover the secret of these symbols and put an end to this evil. More victims. 0, 7, 1; 6 0, 6, 5; 10 0, 7, 8; 8 0, 7, 3; 12 0, 6, 9; 4 0, 7, 8; 9 “069 repeats!” the authorities notice after the ninth victim is discovered. “It’s certainly a code!” “And here! The victims with 8 and 9 on the abdomen have identical numbers on the hands and forehead too: both 0, 7, 8.” Detective Pierce broods over this information. He locks himself away with the numbers, poring through literature about ciphers and codes. He devises complex algorithms to analyze the data, looking for patterns. Pierce has always put work before his family. His colleagues will all tell you that. But the domestic strain from the number killings is pushing his relationships to the brink of collapse. Another body in Florida. 0, 8, 5; 17 Pierce is on the scene, crouching over the Number Killer’s latest conquest, examining the slapdash 17 scrawled unceremoniously on the abdomen. “Detective Pierce.” A voice from behind him. Pierce stands and peels the purple nitrile gloves from his hands and glowers at the intruder on his crime scene. “Agent Rickson. Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my crime scene now, sir. I’ll need a full briefing.” “The hell it is!” Pierce snaps back. “I’ve been working these killings from day one! You think you can just come in here with your federal mandate and expect me to catch you up on all the work my people have done?!” Agent Rickson hands Pierce a bound legal envelope. “You’ve been relieved.” “This isn’t over. You’re gambling with people’s lives…sir.” Detective Pierce practically spits the final word at the agent’s feet before snatching the envelope and rushing off the scene. Over the next two weeks, eight more victims. Pierce’s anxiety has left him unable to leave his office. He hasn’t been home in three days. Though he’s officially off the case, he’s still haunted by the numbers and mounting body count. His work has suffered to the point that his superiors have issued reprimands. At his wits’ end, Detective Pierce pulls officer Malloy into his office. Malloy is a rookie who’s eager to please and has a knack for numbers. “I need you on special assignment, rookie.” Pierce is looking pensively out his office window when Malloy enters. “Special assignment, sir?” “Secret, special assignment, Malloy.” He turns and places a sealed envelope on the table. “I need you to collect everything we have on the Number Killings. Meet me at the address enclosed here. Tomorrow night. Midnight. Tell no one.” “But sir, I thought you had been reliev-” “Dammit, rookie! Do you want more people to die?! We need to figure out this nonsense now or we’re going to end up with dead bodies in triple digits, son!” Malloy reluctantly agrees. He smuggles boxes of files and pictures out of the precinct late the next night and meets Pierce at an abandoned warehouse to go over the information. For hours, the two sit at opposite tables, running numbers, delving into research, and analyzing the evidence, late into the early hours of the morning. With a sudden energetic vigor, Malloy springs from his chair and cries out, “ASCII!” Startled out of his analytic trance, Pierce inquires, “What did you say, Malloy?” “ASCII! It’s a computer language that uses numbers to represent letters! Look!” Malloy pulls up a reference sheet and begins arranging numbers on Pierce’s desk. “If we take the abdomen numbers as the order, and the palm and foreheadnumbers as the code for the letter…” “Malloy, you’re a genius!” Working furiously, Pierce and Malloy clear a space on the dusty warehouse floor to lay out the pictures in sequence: Abdomens: 6, 12, 17… G, I, U… 4, 9, 11… E, N, G… In minutes, the men have spread 76 photos over a 10 foot square of the warehouse floor and scratched nervous letters on ripped sheets of notebook paper under each group corresponding to the symbol. As they finish, Malloy stands back to survey the message. “No…” All blood drains from his face. His legs go weak, and he collapses onto his knees. “It can’t…It just…It can’t! Detective Pierce is wide-eyed next to Malloy’s broken form, mouth agape. A sound from the warehouse wall rattles the building as a dozen federal agents storm the facility. “Mother of God…” Pierce doesn’t even notice the agents. His unbroken stare is consumed by the message on the dusty warehouse floor. Agent Rickson grabs hold of Detective Pierce. “You’re under arrest for interfering with a federal investigation and tampering with evidence.” Malloy sheepishly confesses. “I told them everything! I told them you wanted me to take the evidence. It was a setup. I was worried about you. I’m sorry! But I never thought…oh God! What can we do?!” Pierce is handcuffed, and as he is dragged backward from the grotesque mosaic of death, he laughs in spite of himself, “You monster…” As he comes back to his senses, Pierce begins tearing at the agents pulling him away. He lets out a shrill, animalistic shriek… “YOU MONSTER!!” The other agents crowd around the space on the floor that has itself become a crime scene, and in an eerie silence, they collectively ponder the ethereal message left by the elusive Numbers Killer: “NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP” ​ EDIT (TLDR): Thanks for the support, and also some people are asking for a tldr because (obviously) it's really long. Here's a video to basically sum it up. Have a nice day. Also, thank you /u/about_tyme for ASCII number edits.

"Neither have eye."

To convince women sweeping was a sport.

"In these troubled times, the steaks have never been higher."

Y’know, one would’ve been enough.

which one is gonna be happy to see you when you open it up?

Once I forgot to bring my phone when I went out for the day. I borrowed my friend's phone to call her. She answered "What's up baby?" She is so smart she knew I was the one calling her. Edit: it's my cake day!

But it can't be that hard.

Because they seem shady.

you're built upside down.

Boss said it was because I had no filter

Because where there’s a will, there’s a weigh.

I had to draw my own conclusions.

Cu Tips of to my classmate for telling me this

munchkin.