Now we think it’s the first time a pure-bred slice of American brawn has made it on our list of Friday Car Crushes. But we think you’ll agree this oil-black on black bad boy would take a slice out of even the most stony faced Europhiles.
Reminds us of a family that used to live round the corner from us in the mid to late seventies. You know, one of those country and western-obsessed, sprawling families, the head of which was a Lorry driver and rocked the confederate flag in the window and whose front yard was permanently littered with cars an motorbikes in various stages of repair.
Tony was the youngest boy of the family – a sometime bullyish, sometimes vulnerable kid who never ate his greens and whose older sisters were scarily unaccessible and exotic. One day the old man pulled up outside school with one of these babies – not nearly as slick and crsip as this custom job…but about seven of us piled in the back and were taken for the ride of our lives – to the far roundabout on the A-road and back.
Some small seed was planted around that time, some sort of elegiac ache for big, noisy cars that I reckon will stick around in our souls for the rest of our lives.
Well, that’s enough nostalgia. Happy friday and enjoy these killer pics…
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