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City Kin
An old woman in the West Virginia hills
received a letter from her grandneice, who'd gone off to the big city to seek her fortune.
Puzzled by the writing and the contents, she read to her husband, "Judi says here
that she's got her-self a job in a . . . a . . . a . . . well, it must be a *message*
parlor."
"I reckon city folks must leave word there fer their neighbors and kinfolk. Them not
having back fences and all," her husband said. "Does Judi say how much they's a
payin' her?"
"Well, that's the part I can't make out. For the life of me, Paw, she says she gets
some $35 for a hand delivered message and $60 if she *blows* it to them!"
"Why are you in this particular line of
work?" a sociology researcher asked the massage-parlor girl.
"I'm trying to pay back this loan shark named Paul something or other," she
said. "So I'm literally rubbing peters to pay Paul."
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