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About Celje

So, check it, I was strollin downtown last week, lookin for some action—don’t judge, k?—and it’s like, whoa, these girls got stories, man! One chick, she’s all “I’ve borne my burden!” like in *Dogville*, and I’m thinkin, damn, she’s deep! Prostitution’s been around forever—fun fact, ancient Rome had brothels called “lupanars,” wild, right? Made me happy knowin I’m part of history or somethin. But then, this dude tries rippin me off—20 bucks extra? Nah, bro, that pissed me off! I’m like, “You ain’t Tom Edison screwin me over!”—straight outta *Dogville*, ya see?

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First off, I head down to Ulica 1. maja. You know, the main drag. I’m cruisin’ along, coffee in hand, feelin’ like a boss. But then, bam! I hit a pothole. Like, seriously? Who’s in charge of these roads? I spill my coffee all over my favorite flannel. Great start, huh?

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