Plizaya Productions
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WHY DO PEOPLE ACT LIKE ANSWERING “I DON’T KNOW” IS A PERSONAL FAILING EQUIVALENT TO ADMITTING YOU KICK PUPPIES IN YOUR SPARE TIME?!?!? 🤷♂️🤷♂️🤷♂️ Chris Henson here, and I am having a COMPLETE EPISTEMOLOGICAL MELTDOWN over society’s BIZARRE AVERSION to the most HONEST THREE WORDS in the English language!!! Has anyone else noticed Read more
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I was five years old when I learned how to start a car. Not just any car… a 1980 Trans Am, dark purple, with T-tops that offered glimpses of Arkansas sky and an exhaust system that announced our arrival half a mile before we appeared. That Phoenix emblazoned across the hood might as Read more
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WHY ARE PEOPLE STILL TYPING LIKE THEIR KEYBOARD IS HAVING AN ACTUAL SEIZURE?!?!? 👆👆👆 Chris Henson here, and I am ABSOLUTELY LOSING MY MIND over these ALPHABET ASSASSINS who communicate like they’re being CHARGED BY THE LETTER or writing with their ELBOWS!!! Have y’all noticed how some people text like they’re ACTIVELY RUNNING Read more
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Braggarts, Brains, and Betrayal Thursday night at Chill & Fill greets me with its usual fluorescent embrace. The one-eyed polar bear sign watches over the parking lot, its neon wink a perpetual commentary on the human comedy below. The radio plays Queens of the Stone Age’s “No One Knows” as I restock the cigarette Read more
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Spilled Coffee, Supernatural Seekers, and Late-Night Confessions My Friday night shift at Chill n’Fill was off to a promising start. The one-eyed polar bear sign flickered less tonight—Bob had finally convinced the electrician to return and fix the wiring after three rescheduled appointments. The bear’s eyepatch now glowed a vibrant purple instead of its Read more
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Dead City Nights, Reclaimed Labels, and Peeking Through Jennifer called in sick again—this time claiming her “clock had a broken gear” which might have been vaguely plausible in 1875 but seems highly suspect in our digital age. I’m starting to think she has a secret life as an international spy, given her increasingly creative Read more
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Limitations, Lamentations, and Lyrical Coincidences Jennifer called in sick again. This time her excuse was that her “goldfish blew bubbles” which is either some elaborate euphemism I’m not hip enough to understand or the weakest excuse in the history of employment. Either way, I’m covering her shift for the eighth time this month. At Read more
