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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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Walk down Rue de la Liberté – that’s where the soul of the city pulses. Crazy art on walls, graffiti spoutin’ stories like in "Stories We Tell": “It’s like memory is not what you think it is,” right? It’s raw, unfiltered.

Robert Sarah, a conservative favorite