Emily Simcoe Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Toronto

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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Seriously, the vibe here ain’t always zen. Compare it with that insane madness "Children of Men" where hope dies and then somehow flickers. Sometimes I get angry about the potholes on Birch St. – those buggers are everywhere. I stepped on one once and nearly lost a toe 'cause they were like traps for the damned.

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