No relation to Martini & Rossi, Natalia Rossi is, nonetheless, a cocktail of alluring femininity that intoxicates and renders one drunk with the spirit of love. So much so, that we'd probably arm ourselves as well with a guitar and attempt to serenade our way into her heart or ass or whatever body part becomes pragmatically available. Except we can't strum a guitar for shit, so we'd have to BS our way around that. But Natalia strikes us as a babe who'd give us "E" for effort and reward us with her glorious smelling pudendum just for the thought. So, with that, we sing glorious songs of Natalia. Off key, of course, because we can't sing worth shit, either. Then, again, maybe if we just give her money we don't have to risk embarrassment.