I’m not a racist – I’ve been to Africa

With all the unsubstantiated accusations flying around recently, I want to make one thing crystal clear: I’m not a racist. After all, I’ve been to Africa.

The idea that I don’t like blacks is crazy, especially when you consider that I was surrounded by them during my three-month safari! If I really had something against them, do you think I would’ve taken all those selfies with their adorable little fat-bellied children and uploaded them to my Tinder profile?

Some people say I shouldn’t have painted my entire body black, put on a curly wig, worn an orange jumpsuit, and brought a bucket of fried chicken to that fancy dress party. I’d like to counter that argument by pointing out that I spent a day with the Maasai tribe in Kenya. If they can paint their faces and dress up in silly little outfits, why can’t I?

I was also shocked and appalled when all those trolls harassed me for using the N-word on Twitter. As I told them 100 times, it was an AutoCorrect mistake: I obviously meant to say “I’m so sick of all these dirty, filthy NAGGERS getting up in my space!” I’d never knowingly use the N-word in front of all my African buddies on Twitter. Although I assume most of them have never heard of the internet anyway, the poor little buggers …

Okay, I’ll admit that it was probably a bit insensitive of me to tell the officer that “they all did it” when I was called identify the man who robbed me from that police line-up. But what was I supposed to say? I mean, I didn’t even catch a glimpse of the guy who took my wallet. I just assume I would’ve spotted him if he were white.

And the time I asked that black woman to bring me some more hors d’oeuvres and top up my drink at that dinner party, well that was just an honest mistake. I have huge respect for African women, obviously; I slept with a whole bunch of them on my trip, and I never once forgot to leave a tip!

A few of those women told me that I wasn’t worth it and even broke down into tears when I tried to pay them. That to me is the ultimate vindication; they enjoyed their time with me so much that they didn’t feel comfortable taking my money. And that’s not all: the last bird I banged was shaking afterwards and told me her skin was crawling. If it’s racist to give a woman THAT good an orgasm then hell, I don’t wanna be PC!

Although now I think about it, she did spit in my eye afterwards, and not in the fun way I wanted … And she might have been a bit pissed off that I kept calling her LaQuanda even though she told me several times her name was Jane … And I probably should have used a condom …

Should I get this rash checked?

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