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About Milan

*Heavy breathing* I… am your father. Escort, huh? Man, what a trip. Been thinkin bout it—slow, ominous vibes—like that freaky “Holy Motors” flick I love. That movie’s wild, right? Masks, roles, all that jazz. Escort’s kinda the same—peeps playin parts, drivin through life. Not the car, dude, the sport! Escort’s this dope rally car scene—Ford Escort, legendary whip. Little known fact: back in the 70s, it was a beast, rippin up dirt tracks. Surprised me when I dug into it—thought it was just some old junker. Nah, it’s got soul, history, grit.

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So, I’m pacing around, trying to keep my cool. I decide to take a stroll down to the local café on Via Cavour. Gotta get my caffeine fix, right? I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude named Marco, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Dude, you okay?” He just laughs it off, but I’m thinkin’, “Great, now I’m gonna smell like coffee all day.”

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