These little scoundrels will be the end of me. Bilar, the Swedish word for cars, are like nothing else I've ever seen back home. I don't even know how to describe them, except that they're sweet and chewy as the dickens, and most certainly contain some illicit drug because as I am chomping a mouthful I am already thinking about stuffing more in. The problem with Bilar (and, yeah, me) is that I cannot stop and they come in a pretty major package so after I've consumed the whole thing in one sitting I pretty much feel like I have a car parked in my belly.
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