A Divorce...

"A Polish man moved to the U.S. and married an American girl. 

Although his English was far from perfect, they got along very well - until 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: 

Lawyer: Have you any grounds? 

Man: Yes, an acre and half and nice little home. 

Lawyer: No, I mean what is the foundation of this case? 

Man: It's made of concrete. 

Lawyer: I don't think you understand. Does either of you have a real grudge?

Man: No, we have a carport.

Lawyer: I mean. What are your relations like?

Man: All my relations are still in Poland.

Lawyer: Is there any infidelity in your marriage?

Man: We have a high fidelity stereo and good DVD player.

Lawyer: Does your wife beat you up?

Man: No, I always wake up before her.

Lawyer: Why do you want this divorce?

Man: She's going to kill me.

Lawyer: What makes you think that?

Man: I have proof.

Lawyer: What kind of proof?

Man: She is going to poison me. She bought a bottle and put it on the shelf in bathroom. I can read, and it says:

"Tisdagshumor från etern"

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