Lunchtime Stories with Bill Murray.

So today I'm eating lunch with good ole' Bill Murray when he bestows another classic yarn on me. And I'd be a communist bastard if I didn't share it with the 91* crowd.

So there Bill was on a slow night at my favorite titty bar, Trixies. Pulling his mustache from between a silicone rack, Bill's attention drifted to the lonely side-stage. There danced a skinny chinese gal, we'll call her Suzuki. Bill felt a pang of sadness for poor Suzuki, with barely a bee sting for a chest she had no tippers.

Bill being the humanitarian that he is sauntered over to Suzuki's stage to save the day with a few George Washingtons. Suzuki hovered over the tent folded bills, snatching them up with her asian-hued booty muscles. She leaned in closed to Bill, legs spread wide, striking conversation, only Bill wasn't sure which set of lips to talk to. She convinced Bill to buy her a 10 dollar shot glass of Coca-Cola and join her at a table. Bill reluctantly agreed, feeling hosed.

While at the table Suzuki confided in Bill that she hated her job, hated the dickhead manager and would rather be a Radiology Technician. There was just one problem. Her resume was complete and utter shit. Bill offered to write one, he did it for a living at the time. Suzuki's eyes nearly jumped out of her head. She told Bill that she'd come over right when she got off work. Bill gave her his number, went home and fell asleep on the couch thinking she was full of shit. After he rubbed one out, of course.

Four a.m. rolled around, his phone rang, she's in the parking lot, still in a stripper cape and fuck me pumps. Bill opened the door assuming his neighbors are thinking he bought a hooker. She showed Bill the resume and he nearly laughed at her. Bill began working on the resume and thought what any guy would think. "Hey, is this worth a bj? A handy at least?"

So Bill suggested that she give him a back rub while he's typing away. As she rubbed his back Bill thought about taking it to the next level. Too little, too late. Suzuki decided to end prematurely and go home, but she'd call him tomorrow. Frustrated, Bill rubbed another one out and assumed she'd never call. That bitch.

Oh but she did! The very next day. And she made plans to come over, right after a shower. Just as Bill was finishing off some wine to get loose, she called and canceled. Then she went into her reasoning, with her ex-husband getting out of jail and threatening to kill her. Alas, Bill hung up the phone, rubbed a third one out, and vowed never to do resumes for flat-chested-chinese strippers who have ex-husbands about to be released from prison. Smart move, I'd say.

Tune in next time when Bill tells about catching one of his cousins in a raunchy act.