From my email inbox:
After a Southern man moved from Atlanta to a New Jersey suburb, a
fellow passenger on a train asked how he liked it in the country.
“It was difficult at first,” the man replied, “but it’s a lot better since I
got myself a paramour.”
The passenger was astonished. “A paramour?” he said. “Does your wife
know?”
“Sure”, said the Southerner. “She doesn’t care how I cut the grass.”
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Paramour: an illicit lover
A Pondering Mind 
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