Flippers, fractures, frankfurters…frankly, the F entry is giving me fits. I’d rather write about Uruguay. Oh sure, I could slapdash some piece about Fitzsimmon Sitzfimmon, flounders, or how I should focus on my paying job instead of *arting around the internet. Alas, the first is nonsense, the second is just a flat fish, and the third is not on today’s agenda.

Instead, the agenda shows one item, and it is Uruguay. Why would I write about a South American country I never visited and trip up when pronouncing it? Because there’s a fun drawing of a sun on the Uruguayan flag. And it’s smiling, in a way.

OK, so no one cares about a silly sun on an obscure country’s flag. Fine. I can flop around with fluorescent fixtures, flatulence in five-year old flamingos, or the troubles with fig farming in Finland. Truth be told, I’d much rather highlight Uruguayan history, exports, and the recent lottery numbers that made some Montevidean a millionaire. Any simpleton or F. Scott Fitzgerald wannabe can pull a dozen “f” words from the dictionary and scatter them over the screen.

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