Hi, I'm McHole, the man with the five holes on his face. This message has been approved by each of my holes.
Let me tell you a bit about myself before I tell you about my holes. I went to war, a war of invasion and aggression, where young people, in order to make them go, even if none of them wanted to, were pushed, and pricked and bullied and threatened that they'll be shot otherwise. I must have been the single creep that went willingly and smilingly. That's because killing and maiming is in my blood. What can I tell you?
I wasted eleven (or twelve, I forget,) eleven or twelve planes before the enemy so-called made me a prisoner. The enemy were nasty, let me tell you. Not appreciative at all that I had tried to bomb to holy shit their defenseless villages and families. They relented somehow when I carefully explained to them how many planes I'd wasted. They saw that all those planes I had previously destroyed, by being such a damned klutz, were indeed a few planes less now burning and annihilating their villages, and crops, and folks. Then of course I ratted left and right. Then I had it better; that made it much easier to survive until, with my full cooperation, we lost the war.
Let me tell you about the holes on my face. Count 'em. Five! I've been trying all along to convince you that those are in fact bullet holes. Would you believe it? Bullet holes!
I have the honor of having been mentioned, and even singled out, by that great writer and political thinker, Gore Vidal. He's on record as saying that I'm "very stupid", and that I'm very stupid "even by American standards." So that perhaps not even you, my friends, really will believe me when I tell you about the bullet holes on my face. Perhaps even you will realize that they are as a matter of fact assholes. Just assholes the five holes on my face, yes, sir!
Yes, sir, I'm that rare specimen; the man with five assholes on his face.
You know what?
Vote for McHole, the man with the assholes galore!