Road Kill
by Kinky Friedman

Simon & Schuster: 1997
$23.99, 240pp.
ISBN: 0-684-80378-X

Review by Harriet Klausner

Talk about being in a funk (and not being George Clinton). Kinky Friedman's career as the New York City Sherlock Holmes is going no where; his love life has no pulse; and when he looks into a mirror, he sees a street corner philosopher mouthing trivia B.S. staring back at him. Kinky realizes that it is time to put the show on the road to regain his mental health. When his old friend Willie Nelson invites him to go on tour with the band, the Kinkster feels that his life has turned around. However, from almost the minute Kinky enters the surreal world of Willie, it is obvious that something troubles the country legend. Everyone on tour expects Kinky to find out what has upset Willie's karma and fix it.

After a little careful sleuthing and a talk with Willie to confirm his findings, Kinky realizes that the man believes that he has been cursed by an Indian shaman and is waiting to die. The Kinkster is determined to pull his friend out his funk, but before he can begin, a band member takes a bullet intended for Willie. Indian curse or something more mundane like a person with a grudge, the private detective plans to ferret out the truth.

In a world slowly being bored to death, thank goodness Kinky Friedman periodically writes an entertaining novel that brightens up the mood of the readers. The Kinkster's irreverent humor, political mumbo jumbo, and off-colored jokes are a joy to behold. Though some mystery fans might find Road Killa shade offensive, Kinky delights in being taken stone cold serious as a comedic writer writing a droll mystery.

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