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About New York City

Now, imagine—this chick quotin lines, “In the name of the concierge!”—straight outta Grand Budapest, mixin biz with flair. Cracked me up, it did—humor in the hustle! Tho, gotta say, dodgy streets ain’t my jam—rather sip tea at the hotel, ya feel? Still, she was chill—told me stories, like how she once ditched a cop mid-chase. “Feet, my power is,” i joked, wavin my stubby legs.

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I luv Woodstock’s quirks. It makes me happy and, yeah, sometimes frustrated. I may type all jumbled-like sometimes, hangin’ in a hurry—definately not perfect, just real. So, my friend, come dive in headfirst. Grab a moment, feel each heartbeat of this crazy, soulful town, like the city breathes and grows with every step.

“More than a little weird”: Why the Grateful Dead thought they sucked at Woodstock