This far-out gallery of 70's custom vans got me reminiscing about growing up in Southern California and cruising Whittier Boulevard on the weekends. Back in those days, a custom van was a guaranteed party and make-out machine that never failed to impress the vaguely slutty chicks who would stand on the sidewalk along the boulevard. and ask you if you had any Cuervo or Acapulco Gold.

I never owned a van. My ride was a primer-grey VW Beetle. My friend Rich had a Toyota pickup with a wooden camper shell that looked like an outhouse. It had a cedar-shingled roof and was shag carpeted inside. My buddy John had a '56 Willys with blue-velvet tuck-'n'-roll upholstery. Not surprisingly, they both scored before I did. Guess I should've stocked up on tequila and weed.

[Link: Van Advertisments][gracias, COOP!]