Kenneth my ‘new’ classic car, rode like the wind; gusted, stalled, wafted, flurried, but was a genuine Zephyr: Kitted out like a Knight-rider, on his way to an all-knight-Diner. To say he was two tyred would only be half as tired as he felt. I’d bought Kenneth from Nigel, an impoverished virgin Vampyr, who couldn’t … Continue reading Flapdoodle