Today the letter R

Tired of bread.
Will go for a week (maybe longer) without eating bread for lunch.
Today I ate raspberries and rollmops.

(That sounded like a Twitter message.)

After eating the rollmops, I sank into a fishy slumber for half an hour.

Dali

Benjamin called 'Dali' to me instead of 'Daddy'.
I shall wear a Dali-esque moustache and a snorkel and mask
and stand in a bucket of water in the garden
to lecture him.

Phallic lighthouse

Gerald said he, horny and pleasantly lost for words, sent the flame-haired beauty a photo of a phallic lighthouse.
"What other kind is there?" said the Green Knight, strangely woodenly.

Polski karsz

Polish cars cannot be recognised from a distance, particularly when their number plates are obscured. Where I live, there is a fair to middling chance that upwards of ten Polish cars will be parked in the Zuidoosterstraat at any given time. I count them.

Twenty years ago the Polish cars in Holland were few and far between but they were most probably boxy, crappy looking things.

"I don't like Risotto"

X sidled up behind her colleague Rita, an Italian lady, proud of her country's cuisine and culture.
"I DON'T LIKE RISOTTO! I FUCKING DON'T LIKE IT, YOU HEAR ME!", she screamed in Rita's ear, the angry aspirated consonants making the curly hairs near her colleague's earlobe tremble, like the pretty blue flowers of Campanula portenschlagiana in a June breeze.