An apology, of sorts.

I'm sitting here with my first beer in three days, debating what to write you all about. Where to start? We gained your trust, your enthusiasm, your heartfelt fandom, and what did we do with it?

Well, we did with our fanbase what all the great legends do - disregarded it entirely. There were days where blog posts seemed likely - necessary, even. Stories that needed telling, rumors that needed stirring, people that needed cajoling, and we turned our backs to the one outlet that makes this possible for more time than is really excusable.

This was not all for naught, however. If you know anything about my partner in crime or myself, the last thing we would do is get all lazy on you. The stories kept piling up, the adventures grew more daring and demanding of our time, and there just wasn't time to stop and rehash it all.

I think one of my main resolutions is that you will start to hear stories that took place in the wider realm of our lives, outside the [now far quieter] walls of 2171.

But still, the last two months have been bubbling with activity. Hopefully, in time, those of you that didn't get to share in the jubilee and debauchery can be brought up to speed.

Let's drop back in to the real world for the closest thing to a rational explanation you're going to get. Neal is working all the time, and I went art-nuts. I think I can speak for us both when I say, we've been up to our eyes in it, and when we weren't we've all about good times and taking it easy the best way we know how, friends, family, libations, and of course, LOST. It's not easy being this awesome all the time, let alone articulating it for the masses that don't make their dutiful pilgrimage to this place.

As I write this very post, Crank Dat Soulja Boy just started playing on the iTunes shuffle. This can be nothing other than a sign from the universe that I'm supposed to tell you a story about a few friends, a holiday, and a randomly accepted invitation to a lake house that went horribly, beautifully right in a way none of us could imagine. No, there wasn't an orgy. I'll be challenged to even put the event into words that do it an iota of justice. However, I'll do my best. For now, let this next [and last] sentence be your teaser for now, and there is more to come.

"You should know that when Patti Irwin is going to pick you up somewhere, take you somewhere else, and she has only the vaguest idea of where you're going, you should go ahead and call your loved ones and remind them that you love them, and that you'll see them on the other side."