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Now, don’t get me wrong—ain’t judgin’. Life’s tough, like Llewyn losin’ his gig at the Gaslight. “It’s all just survival,” I’d mutter, tappin’ my nails on the desk. I’d probly overthink it—should I bring cash? A gift? Lord, I’d bake ‘em cookies first, then remember—oops, wrong vibe!

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I’m almost done, man. Bystrice-pod-Hostynem ain’t perfect—its roads sometimes twist like my code after a bug fix, and a few corners are rougher than a bad date (I mean, come on, it makes ya mad, but then you learn from it!). But it’s my stomping ground. I laugh, I cry, I type out errors in my code here and there—keeps me human.

Czech Republic: Brutal assault began with words "why are you talking to a Gypsy?"