It’s 1965. You ease down into the low-slung monster, sliding your penny loafers deep into the footwells. You slip on your wraparound shades and roll up the sleeves of your white oxford shirt. Depressing the heavy clutch with a grunt, you bring the engine to life. The deep, thumping rumpa-rumpa can be heard long after you disappear down the road. READ MORE ››
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via Agya