Text message jokes. Topical, apposite, hilarious. We all get them, from friends and family and distant acquaintances. And we all send them on, if we think it's a good one.
So, who is it who invents all these jokes in the first place? Where do they come from? And why are they sending them to you?
I suppose I must be a bit of a dinosaur - the green scales are usually concealed beneath my everyday clothing - but I do not regularly send or receive text messages. No-one sends me these jokes, although sometimes an acquaintance shows me one, or reads it out in the office across the low partitions which separate the desks. I laugh politely, of course, but I never ask for the joke to be forwarded on, and decline any such offer, suggested that they should save their money for someone who would appreciate the thought. Now, everyone who knows me even slightly does not even bother to ask.
Book eight in my Belinda Lawrence Classic Mysteries. Mysteries confront amateur sleuths, Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby in the Somerset village of Milford.
Among the eccentrics is the shadowy Madam Malefic.
Six straight men in the cast plus free Tex-Mex food? My friend Lida Rose sure knew how to persuade me. I signed on the dotted line and dusted off my dance shoes. I knew Bad Business on the Brazos would have them rolling in the aisles and standing up
