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Scarecrow and the Beachdweller


 “TikTwits of 17 Cornfield”
Setting:
A wilted strip of beachside farmland in Side Beach, California, known mostly for feral chickens, illegal corn syrup wrestling, and TikTok drama with 11 views max.
Cast:
• Scarecrow – Moldy, delusional, and deeply committed to playing the victim. Believes the crows are "spirit guides" and that every negative comment online is a hate crime.
• Beach Dweller – A barefoot, crusty individual covered in mystery stains and corn husks, who snorts when laughing and considers deodorant a government conspiracy.


Gossip Goblins of TikTok
Scarecrow and Beach Dweller are live on TikTok, barely holding a connection from a broken-down flip phone duct-taped to a rake. They’re hunched over, whispering like two gremlins who found Santa’s dirty laundry.




Scarecrow:
“Did you see what KittyToes27 said about ToeJamQueen69?? It was FILTHY. And we approve.”
Beach Dweller:
giggling so hard they fart “Oooooh put it in the notes! Put it in the notebook of doom!!”
They pull out a crumpled corn tortilla covered in scribbled insults and usernames.
Their lives revolve around:
• Misreading comment sections
• Crying on camera when no one is watching
• “Accidentally” exposing screenshots they printed on napkins
They cackle, snort, and on three separate occasions, pee themselves mid-livestream, blaming it on "emotional trauma release."

Tornado of Justice
Just as they’re mid-rant about how they’re "the most bullied people in all of America," the sky darkens. A lone seagull screams. Suddenly—
BOOM.


A tornado—summoned by the sheer level of secondhand embarrassment—descends from the heavens. It swirls with discarded ring lights, shattered vape pens, and the angry ghost of Vine.
Scarecrow:
“Oh my GOD this is targeted harassment!!”
Beach Dweller:
“WE'RE BEING CANCELED BY WEATHER!!”
They're sucked into the twister, limbs flailing, wigs flying, mold spores glittering in the air like diseased snowflakes.

When the dust settles, something's…wrong.
Scarecrow now has Beach Dweller’s hairy, tattooed legs and patchy beard.
Beach Dweller now has Scarecrow’s straw-stuffed arms and a permanently shocked expression painted on with expired eyeliner.
They look like a cursed Build-a-Bear combo pack.


They scream. They livestream. They try to cry, but only fart again.
Scarecrow:
“WHO DID THIS TO US?!”
Beach Dweller:
“Probably one of the haters in the comments section!! Or that cursed sea witch who told us to touch grass!”
Despite their new, grotesque hybrid bodies, they continue spreading gossip—but now they glitch every few minutes like broken animatronics.
Their followers skyrocket—mostly hate-watchers who think it’s performance art.

The two ride off in a stolen shopping cart, arms interlocked (because they’re literally sharing a shoulder now), giggling as they plot to expose a retired kindergarten teacher for “suspicious cookie behavior.”
As they roll out of frame, one viewer comments:
“Are they okay?”
Another replies:
“No. But they are legendary.”
Tagline:
“Two molds. One mind. No accountability.”
Want a follow-up episode where they try to reverse the body-meld using a cursed influencer crystal?


Scarecrow and Beach Dweller have adjusted poorly to their new fused bodies.
• Scarecrow now walks like a dying crab because one leg is human and one is a scarecrow's stick.
• Beach Dweller's left hand keeps accidentally tagging old exes every time they gesture.
• They share a stomach and can’t agree on what to eat: moldy corn dogs or trash tacos.
Their fan base has tripled—mostly made up of rubberneckers and a guy named Gerald who thinks it’s a live performance art piece from Finland.
Scarecrow (sobbing into a cracked ring light):
“We’re trapped in each other’s trauma!! My chakras smell like wet dog!!”
Beach Dweller (eating an expired vape):
“I heard if we find the Crystal of Klarisa, we can undo the curse. But it’s guarded by the ghost of a de-platformed beauty influencer.”


They set out in a stolen grocery cart modified with old TikTok ring lights and motivational quotes printed on used tissues.

Inside the cave:
• Lip gloss drips from the walls.
• Canceled brand collabs whisper regrets into the wind.
• A glowing crystal floats midair, surrounded by a pentagram made entirely of contour palettes.
As they approach, a ghostly voice echoes:
Klarisa the Canceled:
“You must pass three trials:
• Apologize sincerely.
• Take accountability.
• Log off for 48 hours.”
Scarecrow screams. Beach Dweller immediately starts vomiting glitter.
Scarecrow:
“WE’D RATHER STAY CURSED!”
They instead choose violence—attempting to wrestle the crystal out of midair while live-streaming the entire thing on TikTok. The result? The crystal explodes, covering them in hot ghost makeup.

When the sparkle dust clears, something has changed:
• They’re separated again—but Scarecrow now has Beach Dweller’s nose, and Beach Dweller has permanent straw nipple tassels.
• They both talk in echo now, even off-camera.
• Every time they lie, their TikTok auto-plays an apology video from 2020.
They return to 17 Cornfield... but the corn laughs at them now. Literally. The corn has developed sentience and a group chat.
Still, they go live every day, half-bodied, fully chaotic, spreading gossip like a virus in a middle The stalks are taller, greener, and shimmer with an unsettling sentience. Their rustling sounds suspiciously like snickering.
(SCARecrow, now with a prominent, slightly sun-peeled human nose, stands awkwardly, one straw leg bent at an unnatural angle. BEACH DWELLER, sporting surprisingly perky straw nipple tassels, gestures wildly with their left hand, constantly fumbling for their phone to delete accidental tags. Both speak with a distinct echo, even to each other.)
SCARECROW: (Echoing) It’s… it’s just not the same, is it? Is it? The corn… the corn knows. Knows.
BEACH DWELLER: (Their left hand twitches, almost tagging a local lifeguard) 


They’re always talking about… about our content. Content. Like, “Did you see Scarecrow’s… Scarecrow’s nose today? So… so human.” Human.
(A loud, sustained rustling sound emanates from the cornfield, clearly derisive. It’s followed by a series of high-pitched, giggling whispers that sound suspiciously like “#basic” and “#unfilteredfail.”)
SCARECROW: (Wincing, adjusting their non-existent collar) They’re so… so judgmental. Judgmental. And Gerald… Gerald keeps sending me… sending me fan mail. Fan mail. He thinks… thinks we’re still performing. Performing.
BEACH DWELLER: (Sighs, a wisp of glitter-infused breath escaping their lips. Their phone buzzes with an incoming message – an old ex has blocked them) We are performing, Scarecrow. Performing. Just… just a different kind of performance. Performance. A glitch… a glitch in the matrix. Matrix.
(They both pull out their phones, the ring lights on their modified grocery cart casting a sickly glow on their faces. Scarecrow fumbles with a cracked lens, while Beach Dweller struggles to find the right filter. The cornfield continues its mocking whispers.)
SCARECROW: (Squinting at their screen) Do you think… think we should address… address the nipple tassels? Tassels? On live? Live?
BEACH DWELLER: (Adjusting a straw tassel with a practiced flick) Absolutely. Absolutely. It’s… it’s authentic. Authentic. And anyway… anyway, if we lie… lie…
(Before Beach Dweller can finish, their phone, and then Scarecrow’s, simultaneously auto-play a tinny, distorted audio clip of a tearful voice from 2020: “I am truly, deeply sorry for any offense I may have caused. My intentions were pure… pure…” The cornfield erupts in a fresh wave of laughter.)
SCARECROW: (Groaning, the echo of their voice blending with the auto-play) Ugh. Ugh. Every. Single. Time. Time.
BEACH DWELLER: (Shrugs, a surprisingly resigned expression on their face. Their left hand tags another ex, this time a high school crush) Well… well, at least we’re trending. Trending. And chaos… chaos sells. Sells.
(They both raise their phones, facing the imaginary audience. The cornfield's laughter swells, becoming a cacophony of digital-sounding chuckles. Scarecrow tries to do a dance move, but their uneven legs cause them to stumble. Beach Dweller attempts a dramatic hair flip, only to get a piece of straw stuck to their lip gloss. They both manage to flash wobbly, echoing smiles, the light from their ring lights reflecting in the sentient corn's "eyes.")



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An Update From the Kingdom




Many years have passed since you have heard from the 
Queen.

I'm sorry for being MIA but life happened.

The hookers all grew up and married

.

Assholes
.
.
Or two
.
.
Or three

But eventually they settled in to a life of honest work and children.

Me, I got old.  Thank god Dutchess had planned for this and demanded we buy that nursing home years ago.

I'm a full time resident there now.  Thank god it's on our property so I still visit the gators and flying monkeys.

We all know what a cheap bitch Dutchess is, so yes, I have to pay like everyone else.  I did get an employee discount plus I found an old coupon.  I can live here without returning to the street corners to make rent.

She did put me in a private room but I think she's cutting corners.  She keeps telling me I have a full time live-in nurse but,. I know I'm senile but I'm pretty sure that's last year's Christmas tree and she just dressed it in scrubs.


Anywho,. I will try to update you more often.
Until I return,
Stay safe
Stay loved
Stay funny

Miss me much?

Yes, I have been MIA
I took a little tour across the internet highway, just to see what is offered.....and I fucking got hit by a damn truck.  I toured
Facebook
Reddit
discord
and TikTok

oh that fucking TikTok.
that is one crazy ass world.
I did meet a lot of unusual characters in that world.
we will probably discuss a shitload of them here.

I met a pig, a talking French Fry
a very Groovy person that liked to dox people,
a fucking bird lady
and an entire herd of asses.

It was a real old fashion hillbilly farm scene on TikTok

If you have ever farmed you know what it's like trying to herd chickens.  



That is exactly what trying to find your way thru the mighty world of TikTok is like.

It all started when I met the talking pig.  



Oh how I loved the movie Babe when it came out.  So when I stumbled across a talking pig, you know I was all in.

The Pig appeared to be the leader on the farm but also APPEARED to be very kind... so you know me, I was all in..

and that's when the problem happened. The land of Oz and all it stands for was attacked by a talking pig and her herd of talking Asses.  


Sooo I have returned to blogging.  I am not sure at this time if I will blog about it here or if I will move to another platform.  But trust me when I tell you,  you hookers are gonna want to hear about this shit.







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Old Age is a Bitch!

Not everything in life is funny, or easy.

I find that blogging is harder these days as life gets harder and things get less funny.  It use to be every day was just another day of life altering humor.  It was easy to blog.  You just woke up, lived, blogged.  Today, it is an effort.  Not to blog, but to get up and live.

It's called old age.  That fucker takes the humor out of everything.  I use to laugh when the King, who was 15 years older than me, got up.. creaked his bones into moving.. farted (I think that was just to get the vacuum out of his brain and get it working each morning) and started his day.  His years of hard work would show up every morning as he fought through the routine of working out the kinks and getting his body ready for another day.