Welcome to the middle of our story. We don’t anticipate there being an end and aren’t really interested in pinpointing the beginning. What is it they say, “It’s not the destination, but the journey?”

So here we are, in the middle, and to be honest, we’re quite excited about it. Maybe for you this will be like watching a soap opera for the first time after it has been airing for 26 years. On the first day you’ll wonder who the hell these people are and why Vienna who may be skipping school just grabbed for the hand gun from under the bar she’s tending in response to the middle aged man dressed like Lance Bass who just put a conspicuous, yet perfectly wrapped package on an empty table in the corner. Perhaps despite your initial disinterest, you’ll find yourself days later defiantly entrenched in their escapades, and wondering if that feisty runaway is ever going to actually speak to her long lost biological half uncle, Nicolai, who also happens to be a serial bar robber and courier for the local dentist turned mob boss. Or maybe you will change the channel, and we will happily carry on documenting our wanderings as though you were still reading. Though we’d love you to stay and laugh and wonder and wander, we’ll be satisfied either way. We love the middle of our story.

Today we throw “required story elements” out the window. Call it poetic license if you want; this story is just a middle.