My name is Lovino you bastards! Not 'Lovi', so stop calling me that! I apparently have to be here for this, says that stupid Potato Bastard #2. He is such an idiot potato stronzo! 

England and France are scary, so if you happen to be one of those butt crotch rockets, don't you come the fuck near me.

Germany obviously has some suspicious fucked up plan to invade my idiot fratello's vital regions, and I have to stop it before that retard gets himself pregnant. If that isn't possible, I don't give a shit, shut the fuck up, because there's a 99% chance of shitstorm headed your way. You better get the fuck ready. 

I can't believe I spent my whole fucking life holed up in the tomato bastard's house, as if it wasn't disgusting enough. I swear I saw a rat! Not like I was supposed to be cleaning or anything... 

And you OTHER fuckers pretending to be me...? You can go fuck yourselves. Here's a fucking pole to start with. *Hands you a fucking pole*

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I am 23 years old, my birthday is on March 17, and I hate Germans, stupid potatoes.... My passions include pitying myself because my brother is better than me, smashing potatoes, and eating tomatoes... And no, I do not eat that bastard Spain, you perverts, damn it. I live in my stupid fratello's house, he's never at home, instead he's being an idiot at that potato bastard's house.