I live in a tiny, tiny village named Vingåker in Sweden. It's not much to look at here. We've got the dumbest politicians ever in the history of man, they think it makes more sense building a brand new train station that one or two people a year ever uses than hiring more people for medical, education and taking care of the elderly. They cut down on everything and give themselves more salary. God, I truly love them all.
But they're not everything Vingåker has to offer. We have the oldest and crappiest cinema in Sweden. Only small kids who really don't care what the quality is like go there.
The centre of Vingåker is a small store, a library (which is, in fact, okay) and the bank.
About 10000 people live here. Half of them are immigrants and most of the rest are 70+. Those that aren't are either braindead teenagers or young, depressed women.
We also have a volleyball team, Vingåker VVK. No one really cares about them except themselves.
Our hotel is close to being shut down, and I've never heard of anyone who's actually been there.
Our prime minister (I think... is that the right thing to call him?), Göran Persson, is born here.
We have Factory Outlet, one of Sweden's biggest stores for clothes. Mostly jeans.
We have a "castle", Säfstaholm, which is full of art. It's open for tourists 2 days a year. It makes me feel so proud.
We have lots of ducks.
The forests are pretty...
I tried to get some pictures, but they were all from 1920, so I thought it was no point to it at all.
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