"I want to befriend a negro"

Don't we all? It is statements like these that make me never want to leave this enlightened nation, but nevertheless, leave I must. Around the first of next month, if my employers are to be believed. The aforementioned declaration was delivered quite sincerely by a student of mine named Sung-Wook, who leaves for Australia next month, with a vast array of multicultural and diplomatic skills at his disposal. When asked why he wanted to befriend said negro, he replied that they have big muscles, are good at basketball, and do interesting handshakes with each other. I tought him how to give a pound, the unofficial negro handshake, should the occasion arise. My legacy will be the seed of diversity I've planted deep into the Korean subconcious. Undoubtedly all the negroes in Australia will flock to Sung-Wook, with his newfound knowledge of traditional handshaking and open-minded gregariousness. On a sadder note, Fenton burned my hair yesterday on purpose, an incident I can ill afford repeated.