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About New York City

Weird thought pops up—prostitutes prolly got stories wilder than mine. I jump outta planes, sure, but she’s dodgin’ creeps daily. Respect, yo. I pay her, we chill, no funny biz. Just talkin’. She says, “You’re weird, fire dude.” I’m like, “Yeah, and you’re a legend.” Hannibal-style, I’m seein’ the absurdity—me, her, this whole damn scene.

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Okay, so check it: Main Street is the heart, where you'll find the old brick buildings with faded neon signs and cool murals (meh, kinda retro but charming as heck!). My fave is Maple Alley – oh yeah, it's a narrow street that feels like a secret hideaway for art lovers and coffee fiends alike. Spotted a cozy cafe there, kinda like those odd hotel lobbies that Wes Anderson drooled over, if ya catch my drift. Tbh, sometimes I feel like M. Gustave himself would pop in and order a pastry, whispers all fancy like "Extraordinare, my dear!"

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