January 13, 2026: 'Help is on the way,' Donald Trump says as he urges Iranians to 'keep protesting'
January 30, 2026: Reuters: Thousands detained in Iran as part of large-scale preemptive arrest operation. IRGC personnel and plainclothes intelligence agents are raiding homes across the country and transferring those detained to secret prison facilities in order to prevent any attempts to restart the protests.
Betray me once, deceive me twice
Forsake Ukraine, Iran - on ice
When you are Trump, your honor's dreck
You give your word to take it back
They turned me away from Hell's Gate
Said I was too much of a reprobate
Said earth deserved me, and I deserved it
Besides, demons were on strike, wouldn't fire the pit.
So I went back to earth, a few memories erased
Looked for money to steal, lives to waste
Set up shop with like minded hoods
Took what wasn't ours, got away with the goods.
Then the strike was over, so a demon made a sell
He said we have a spot for you, down in hell
But I replied, "the government steals more
At least I'm aware I'm corrupt to the core."
"Twisted souls parrot the latest dreck
"On the turn of a dime, good men shot in the neck
"Take the other guys first, then we'll talk about me."
The demon thought, then had to agree.
So I may look old, but I still steal
Hurting the little guy retains its appeal.
My friends are hoods, and thugs, and punks
But hell can be selective for the other skunks.
The demons never came back for me
Hell was overflowing, over-capacity
So many applicants, such a waiting line
Before they get to me, it will be a long time.
Civilization is crumbling
The Huns are at the gates
I don't know what we're becoming,
But I sure hope that it waits
The children are talking backwards
The leaders are talking in tongues
The fork’s in the soup
And we cannot recoup
The innocent days of our young
Logic treads so lightly
While knowledge devastates —
The foe’s at the gates.
The Devil’s in the details
The fat is in the fire
Up to our necks in saccharine and dreck –
Is this any way to conspire?
Don’t call for no revolution
No secret brotherhood
I've seen dinosaurs that have stood here before –
Their ways are gone for good
Common sense treads lightly
While arrogance devastates —
The Man’s at the gates.
I don't know how we got here
By what token or cosmic train
Don't know the story started –
In a garden or after a bang
But if we go and whimper
In the cruel hedges of deceit,
Then we’re just as bad
As the lies we’ve had
In our laps but could never defeat
Perdition treads so lightly
While sanctity devastates —
The end’s at the gates.
The garbage thrown in the sea
pollutes the deep blue ocean
as waves drive back to humans
the dreck, scrap, and waste.
We live in this world as if we own this place
We behave as if we are the masters of our fate
We talk, we walk , we act like kings
But every day, every single moment
We are make aware of our bit
We have no power
We don’t even matter
We were sent without our consent
Our lives will be taken without any warrant
At one moment we are like gods
At another we are dust
Our mind, heart, pride, arrogance, attitude, love, loath, passion
Everything becomes dreck
Yet we fight, argue, hurt and squish others
Yet there are wars, hostilities and masacare
Why do we forget?
How can we??
63VW Bug Domed Home
$300 Empty Wallet,
Waved in Greeting Others "Bugged",
DIY Toolin' Schoolin',
Leakin' Carb Fixit,
Installed & Tighten',
Fired Her Up & Look It,
Engine Lit & Smokin',
Act Fast, Shut Down Fit,
Back to Wrenchin',
Leakin' Porous Gasket,
Déjà Vous Installin',
Finally Fuelin', No Casket,
Then Brakes Not Willin',
Free Fall Down Hill Drastic,
Frantically Emergency Leverin',
Arrived at Bottom Intact,
Sigh of Relief Breathin',
Heat from Engine Extract,
Smelled of Gasolin',
Either Sweatin' or Shiverin' Fact,
What Next? Wheel Fallin'!,
Balancing Acrobat Act,
Shoulder Oasis Seekin',
Rewheel Lug Tightin' Enact,
Pulled Into Shell Station,
One Lookover & Mechanic,
Hung Sign "Dangerous Caution",
"Too Hazardous, Inevitable Panic",
"Stay Off Road, Public Hazard if Run",
Starvin' Student, So "What the Heck?",
Drove Bug 3 More Years, An Eon!,
Careful for the Sake of Pilotin' a Wreck.
Now Can Laugh, I & Others Were Spared Extinction!
Next a Mercedes Diesel 200D Precision but Air Dreck,
Follies of Youth: Survived & Shunned, Relieved Everyone!
That poor old woman who loved her food
was tender to my heart.
Despite the fact she ate pure junk
and cancer lost her spark.
But my dear heart was ever true
and I was quite enamored.
And I knew just to climb on board
and bang what really mattered.
When all my thoughts were blairing food.
for love that really mattered.
And all my thrusts were getting rude
for pleasure I estattered.
When once again I felt her pain
where pleasure didn't matter.
And once again excitement came
that passion couldn't latter.
For which I said I'd claim for love
where latching's plainly rathered.
Where what of food I knew to be
was faith for being gathered.
When what was said myself would do
for love to one another.
Was I would go to town on her
and give like any other.
Then banged her chips.
and banged her cheesies.
Banged the Chex
that made it sleazy.
Aimed for more
than dreck and breezy.
Frosted love
for cake and queasy.
Drawn to find a name for all
for those who'd make it queasy.
Cost of life for making love
the grocery stores bare easy.
Meager thoughts, meager talents.
In love with life,
too brain bound to write it.
Wait, there is one now!
A pearl in the dreck.
Found by a synapse,
uncovered by a warm shower,
carefully,
carefully,
carefully,
culled
out from the muck
and the dull.
Carefully wrapped in an ego of thought
that this might be a pearl left,
unthought.
Carefully carried through
mundane daily duties.
Unwrapped and gazed at,
polished and refined,
putting off writing until
just the right time.
Lost in a moment,
down the grates of a mind,
at the words,
"Daddy...Daddy!"
it’s dark in my life
sunshine’s never allowed in
what are holidays
dreck from my happier times
pointless to ever resurrect
For the “not so happy holidays contest”
Burdened by your love,
wherever you go or why,
you rooked for money.
Buck… your nowhere ex,
he jobbed me for your money.
Oh dreck…We be broke!
For the H-E-A-D-S OR T-A-I-L-S CONTEST
The actor sells derisive fears
to ferment bald lies in our ears.
It's clear that Glenn Beck
is more than just dreck,
there's dollar-signs behind those tears.
My Dear Mr. Heck,
The song you quote
May be dreck...
But it's truth forsure,
And underplayed,
The company folded long ago,
One clear factor for sure I know,
The owner spent his days playing golf,
Hired brainless butt-kissers whose thoughts were slow,
And customer service was on a par..
With Nazi treatment at Auchwitz,
Sometimes even more bizarre...
If asked by a customer straight out, I couldn't lie,
So I would shout.
"Run for your life rather than buy here...
The end's at hand, it's very clear...."
So the employees joined the customers screwed,
And faithful vendors got the worst,
Mr. Arnold Hershbain, the villian supreme,
Has now built another evil nest.
Come One!!! Come Alll!!!!
See the unbeievable!!!
It's Tom's Semi-Annual Clearance Event!!!!
No, I'm not selling cars...
I'm not selling furniture....
I'm tossing all the junk I usually just look at and sigh!!!
Garbage, all sorts Of dreck-a-brick!!!
Hurry, best seats go first!!!!
Call Ticketron for Imfo.....(800) tom-bullst!!
First 500 callers get a promotional visit from our beloved Billy Mays!!!!!
So Act Now!!!!
Don't be left out!!!
Promotional surgical masks provided by Deluxe Vacs...
Remember, "If it's a Deluxe, It Really Sucks!!"
Co-writer, cousin "Duke", (Peter Pitrelli)...responsible for the kick-line, oopppsss,
I meant punch-lime....(Duh.!!.. , dis iz watt haponds wehn uoy takie Karat-ee two
long.....)
our 5 year mission,
is to confuse as many
bar patrons as we can,
and leave them head scratching
to the very last man
my uncle Artie and I
would calmly sit at the bar,
and speak just loud enough
for others to see we were
most odd in our discussions,
maybe "mad" a better term
we had our very goal,
to drive them mentally infirm
gibberish talk, inane, insane
so sense of it could one could not make,
and the crazier it got,
the more intense we would fake...
like terms, "what's up with the
copper-status?" and where's
the "finiggin pin"?
off shore, he glibbly told me,
just where the heck you been?
we'd mumble on for quite awhile
careful not to crack a smile
It was real cool to watch those
around us,
who thought for sure we were,
escaped lunatics , where is
the asylum bus?
I loved to watch reactions,
very carefully be assured,
I still think of those great times,
somehow I have endured,
long after his sad passing,
but I gotta wonder if
at St Peter's gate he stirred up
a giant angel fit....
through babbling on in heaven
about his mythical finnigen pin
and if they ever opened up
and let that sweet fool in.
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