While I dearly love you all and recognise that you all have your merits, I love Italy most. Others, rightly, love France, with its* long breads and thin chips, its superb steaks and beautiful pastries, its wonderful art and remarkable capital city. Many, many people adore Spain with its bulls and their fighters, the excellent Barcelona with all its Goudiness and that amazing Miró Museum up on that hill. Throngs flock to Germany that, generously, gave us Ludwig van B, Amadeus, Bach, Wagner, Kraftwerk and Scorpions; Kafka, Mies van der Rohe, Gropius and Dr Oetker. The Swiss? What can I say? Triangular chocolate, Helvetica and the watch I wear.
I won't go on and mean no offense to the many I haven't mentioned because, in those, I include my own homeland.
You are all fine countries with so much to give. It's just that, well, Italy is best. OK, it might not have the best flag (that's your's Switzerland) and it might not have the best graphic designers (because we've got them) but it has got the best cold cuts, the best scooters and Tuscany. Just ask the Dutch; they know, they're all there right now. And who can blame them; Italy is flippin' ace.
Ace Jet 170
* Thanks Henry!