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About Velenje

So, the Ford Escort—man, what a ride! Back in the ‘80s, this thing was everywhere, buzzin’ around like Royal Tenenbaum’s ol’ gypsy cab—“I’m not talking about dance lessons!”—cheap, reliable, nothin’ flashy. Ain’t no billionaire’s Bentley, and that’s why I dig it! Mass-produced for the workin’ folks—none of that one-percent nonsense. Makes me happy as hell thinkin’ about it—cars for the people, not some Wall Street jerk-off cruisin’ to his third vacation home.

So, I’m walking, and boom! I see this cute little café on Ulica Šolska. I mean, who can resist a good pastry? Not me! I pop in, grab a kranjska klobasa, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, the barista spills coffee all over the counter. I’m like, “Dude, you okay?” He just laughs it off. I’m thinking, “This guy’s got the right attitude.”