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About New York City

So, I’m drivin’, windows down, feelin’ like a rockstar—‘cause who doesn’t wanna be William Miller, chasin’ dreams? And bam, I see her—red heels, fishnets, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the night. I’m like, “Whoa, she’s Penny Lane, but dirtier!” That’s what she said! Ha! I pull over, heart’s poundin’—not gonna lie, I’m sweatin’ like a pig. “Hey, uh, hi!” I stammer—smooth, right? She smirks, “What’s your deal, weirdo?” I’m thinkin’, *Oh God, don’t screw this up, Michael!*

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The parks, oh boy, the parks are just a moment away from paradise. Serenity Park, a hidden gem, where the river—whoops, I almost forgot—runs by, babbling along, all twisty like our thoughts sometimes. The river, Krinkle Creek, (yeah, I know, silly name, but it fits, right?) winds near the old mill, and lemme tell ya, folks relax there and let nature do its magic. I once had a client cry happy tears there after a massage session. Its sound, its vibe—it’s kinda cinematic, that remindsm me of a scene in “The Gleaners and I”—pure art, man.

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