Looking into Bill Murray’s Eyes

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We’d like to thank Doreen for sharing this story.

I was working on a windy, hot Saturday evening at a Thai restaurant in Kreuzberg, Berlin when I met Bill.

In the beginning, I didn’t really recognize him; I just thought he was one of those confident, older American men who are not afraid to ask a lot of questions and make a lot of banter. He was telling me he had visited a haunted house earlier that day – but it was really busy at the restaurant; I had much to do, so I was rather dry and short with him at first.

But, after he had spoken to me for something like 30 seconds, his voice gave me the sensation that I was in the film “Lost in Translation” – it was really Bill. Continue reading →

A Trip to Long Beach with Bill Murray, A Long Time Ago

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The following story was submitted by Christine – Thank you!

It was spring around 1981; I was living in Fresh Meadows, Queens with my BFF Donna. I had taken the red-eye home from visiting my sister in LA that morning, then went to work but left early because I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I remember falling asleep on the living room floor, then being woken up by someone banging on the door.

“Chrissie, wake up and get dressed. Bill Murray is downstairs and we have to take him to Long Beach… I’ll explain in the car.” I remember digging through my suitcase and grabbing whatever I could. I got dressed and stumbled outside and, yes, Bill Murray and a friend were sitting there in Donna’s beat up Honda Civic. They handed us a quart bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon and we were on our way. Continue reading →

Doing Some Yard Work

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So this really isn’t a story (at least not the kind we normally post here) but it’s a decent segue into a clip of one of my favorite movie scenes, so I figure what the hell…

Today was beautiful out, so I decided to do some yard work, get some sun, and enjoy a couple beers. Eventually I ended up at the Home Depot for a few things, as people doing yard work are wont to do. So I’m there in the garden section, deciding what kind of grass seed to get.

I’m standing next to an older woman who is also perusing the seed selection – and believe me, it really is a selection. I figured there would be like two options, but instead there are dozens of kinds; way too many choices for someone who doesn’t know a thing about grass. The woman standing next to me says something to that effect and I nod in agreement.

Then without even really thinking, I start to half-mumble, “I’m looking for a hybrid, something like a Kentucky blue grass/Northern California sinsemilla”.

“Is that good for shaded areas?” she asks.

“Oh yeah, and you could play like 18 holes on it. It’s a little harsh, though.”

The Billbago

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The following story was submitted by Todd – Thank you!

So, there I was, on third shift in the prison I work in, reading GQ. The Psych Services office had been left open so I found some fresh reading material. I read about a kickball game with Bill involved, and almost fell out of the chair – I thought I was reading my story, relocated.

I forget how long ago it was, perhaps 10 or 11 years, my wife and I were camping in this small Midwestern town located on a Great Lake shore. Our tradition was to camp for 3 or 4 days, then re-locate to a nearby B&B for some quality time with showers and home cooked meals. I’d dropped my wife off at the B&B for our check-in, while I went back to camp to break it down and pack it up into the trunk of our then well-used Camry. It was a campground right on the lake, in the woods at the shoreline, and quite beautiful. Continue reading →