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About Bari

Little known fact—prostitutes got codes, yeah? Like, in old Coruscant slums, they’d hum cantina tunes to signal they’re open. Caught one hummin’ *Lapti Nek* once—made me giggle, then freak out. “R2-D2, where are you?” I yelled, cos I ain’t built for this! Angry? Oh, when some sleemo pimp tried overchargin’—50 creds for a rusty droid rub? Piss off! Happy tho, cos this one chick laughed at my binary jokes—called me “golden rod,” cheeky minx.

What to Know Before You Pay for Sex

I stop at this little café on the corner of Via Torino. The barista? Total legend. He’s got this wild mustache, like he’s from a spaghetti western or somethin’. I order a cappuccino, and he gives me this look like, “You sure you can handle it?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m a Master of the Forest. I can handle anything!”

Preparations for the opening of the Noble Carpets exhibition