Things are getting even more weird.

I saw the kids yesterday, yeah...SAW them, didn't hug them, or say hello. Just watched from across the street, in a darkened alley just like all the other darkened alleys I have been inhabiting lately. I didn't want to risk it.

Viv and Ted have everything packed up, ready to move to the great, uncultured atomic pit called Livermore. What can I do about it, things are so strange right now. You know, sort of like a bad Bruce Willis movie, divorced Dad gets into trouble he doesn't think he can handle, and then takes on the bad guys...the odds are 8 million to 1 but Brucie takes them all on and wins. Yeah, well, where's Bruce when you really need him? Off with thin models on Tahiti drinking Mai Tai's or whatever overpaid, aging actors drink with women half their age.

So, here's the thing. I was going to bail on this here blog...but the court appointed therapist...HAD to go...if I ever get out of this alive, I need to see my kids....anyway, she thinks I'm getting better, because I didn't glare at her with hatred as a substitution for my unfaithful wife. I didn't dare tell her that I saw a guy shot and he threw me the magical mystery briefcase at me. So, just in case she checks that I am here...God help me, I'll end up in Highland if she does...I am blogging away.

Speaking of the MMB, there's a few things that worry me. The most obvious, is who do I trust???? I know that there are people out there helping, but WHO are they, and HOW did they find me. Paranoia was never part of Bruce's script...but it should be.

The other...this Smith guy...he was deadly. How did HE get killed? And why? And what was he doing in SF?

There's things missing. I need to find out more about Smith and his movements. I need to find out WHAT he was doing here, and how Mario and Tonio found him. I need a drink.

Just call me Bruce.