We have mountains here. And trees. And soccer bitches breakin’ seats with that ass. Recognize.
The food is fuckin’ crunk here in the Big Beave, and there’s plenty of entertainment for the blood. Bike riding and horse riding and shit. Four-and-a-half star restaurants; twenty-dollar cheeseburgers that’ll blow little Johnny’s eye-balls out the back-a his ass.
The Beave’s got celebrities like PGA Tour announcer Gary McCort all up in this bitch, too. He’s playing golf, eating sandwiches with his family and sippin’ yack; discussin’ his vocal performance in Tiger Woods PGA Golf for X-Box with the waiter. Apparently, that’s how the youth “identifies with him.” And much love, PGA brotha. The Beave is all about that kind of shit– always waxin’ it down for the grind, keepin’ it real.
So peep us, and bring your seeds. Beaver Creek is all a little bitch needs to get up in that summer, bustin’ nuts and guts ’til the earth mother screams. Call that travel ass today.
Word is born.