Juan Deuce and I were skiing partners during the latter half of the last half of the previous century, trading slaloms for backrubs on the forward half of the lower portion of the lower Rockies. Everything was all carnuba wax and hot cocoa until one day the muthafucker started opening his eyes real wide when he talked, causing most of the skibunnies we were trying to ski-pole with our he-poles to assume he was on the drugs.
Turns out he was, and he is, and he's a rapper now, having given up his former life of totally shredding on some bunny hills bros.
The video for Larry Sellers is fine and all, I just can't help but miss his instructional teaching and ski coaching sessions during the off season when we would wrap ourselves in celophane and throw sticks of tepid butter at each other.
Juan Deuce is a traitor.
REMEMBER OUR HANDSHAKE BRO? IT ONLY WORKED WHEN WE WERE MITTENED UP DOG.
I'M STILL MITTENED BRO.
I'M STILL MITTENED!