It's called the Empire State for a reason, for as all New Yorkers know, our state is the one by which all others are measured. The Pilgrims probably landed here first, and recorded history got the geography wrong, because really, everything started here. We have the Yankees and the Mets, plus the Giants and the Jets, even if they are, for some weird reason, in New Jersey. And we have trout, lots of cows, the Catskills, the Baseball Hall of Fame, a really big waterfall, and we're the birthplace of Martin Van Buren and Millard Fillmore, for Pete's sake. But there's something else, something we've got so much more of. We've got a great big quantity of... weirdness. Yes, our level of bizarreness is so high that we enticed an out of stater to become a New Yorker and chronicle it all. With notepad in hand and apples in pocket for nourishment, author Chris Gethard scouted the state's highways and byways in search of the odd and the offbeat. He tracked down impossible-to-believe tales, only to discover odd grains of truth that give the stories just enough credibility to make one feel... slightly uneasy.
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