Kinky Friedman

Kinky Friedman is back, and with 'Scuse Me While I Whip This Out he gets it on with all manner of egos. In this collection of twisted takes on life, the Kinkster gives us funny, irreverent, and insightful looks at outsized personalities from people he's known, like Bill Clinton, George W., Willie Nelson, and Bob Dylan -- not to mention Joseph Heller and Don Imus -- to people he's known in spirit, such as Moses, Jesus, Jack Ruby, and Hank Williams. With his meditations on subjects ranging from sleeping at the White House, marriage, his pets, fishing in Borneo, country music, and cigars to the tribulations of possessing talent, Kinky doesn't deny us the "flashes of brilliance and laugh-out-loud observations" (Rocky Mountain News) that are present in all his other work. Hilarious, irreverent, and passionately twisted, 'Scuse Me While I Whip This Out reads as if it were written by a slightly ill modern-day Mark Twain.

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Delivering belly laughs, hee-haws, and downright slackjaw amazement, this hilarious guide to the homeland of George W. and Willie Nelson is the essential how-to for surviving in the Lone Star State. From strange Texas laws and the history of Dr. Pepper to "Texas Talk" (in which a "turd floater" is a heavy downpour) and final-meal requests by death row inmates, Kinky Friedman, "the oldest living Jew in Texas who doesn't own any real estate," provides an insider's guide that will be loved by native Texans and the rest of us poor devils alike.Even if you don't know the difference between an Aggie and an armadillo -- or what's really in the back on Willie Nelson's tour bus -- you can pass for a Texan with the Kinkster's expert coaching. So grab your hairspray and the keys to the Cadillac and get reading!

"Alone in his New York loft, the private detective Kinky Friedman, reflects on friendship and why all his friends are out of town. With time on his hands and feeling a little melancholy his mind turns to Stephanie DuPont - very hot but pretty much resistant to all his advances. The phone rings and Kinky's old contact Hoover from Honolulu is on the blower to report that Kinky's great friend Mike McGovern has disappeared while in the process of researching and writing his cookbook Eat, Drink and Be Kinky. He was last seen heading for the beach. Our hero flies to Hawaii, and in a series of farcical wild goose chases, that includes identifying a faceless corpse in the morgue and trying to ensnare what turn out to be hoax kidnappers, Kinky ends up visiting the local museum on the island and in a room full of ancient relics he stumbles upon a full size, sculpted wooden head that is a dead ringer for McGovern." -- Back cover.

Flirting with a woman on a plane lands New York private eye Kinky Friedman in the middle of an international terrorist plot holding a bright pink comsetic bag.

Your eyes are wide and your body tense before it has completed so much as a single ring. As you wake, in the tiny moment between sleep and consciousness, you know already that something is wrong.Only someone bad would ring at such an hour. Or someone good with bad news, which would probably be worse.You lie in the darkness and wait for the answer machine to kick in. Your own voice sounds strange as it tells you that nobody is there but that a message can be left.You feel your heart beat. You listen. And then you hear the one voice in the world you least expect…your very own Blast from the Past.

Life for Kinky Friedman is a constant adventure. The fact that he hires himself out as a private detective presents ample opportunity for encounters of the dangerous kind. The fact that he lives in New York City quadruples the odds. Why then does he assume that just because his latest assignment, to track down the birth parents of a friend who has discovered that he was adopted - an assignment given to him by Ratso, longtime pal and fellow Village irregular - is going to be a stroll in Central Park? For no sooner does Kinky embark on this seemingly routine undertaking than he finds himself dialing a dead lawyer, being chased around the Miami airport by a krautmobile full of bandidos, and mourning the murder of the very friend who sent him on the journey in the first place.