Vanessa Robbio Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bari

First off, these humans are WILD. Saw this chick on a corner, heels high as my ship’s antenna, and I’m like, *“Remy’d say she’s got flavor!”* Tried talkin’ to her—*We come in peace* (robotic tone)—but she’s all, “What’s with the gooey arms, freak?” Rude! Made me mad, like, c’mon, I’m a classy alien, not some slimy chump. But then she laughed, and I’m like, okay, she’s cool. Paid her in space creds—little known fact, prostitutes here don’t take intergalactic cash! Had to zap her some Earth bucks instead. Total hassle.

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So, I’m sippin’ my espresso at that little café on Piazza della Libertà, right? Just me, my caffeine fix, and a couple of old dudes arguing about soccer. Classic Robbio. Then, boom! My radio crackles. “Fire in the industrial zone!” I nearly spit out my coffee. I mean, c’mon, it’s Robbio! We don’t have that many industrial zones.

JUDGE ALBERT E. DE ROBBIO Obituary December 22, 2008