Kinky Friedman

Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys Where: McCabe's Guitar Shop, 3101 Pico Blvd. When: 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. Saturday Price: $30 Info: (310) 828-8037, http://www.mccabes.com

Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys Where: McCabe's Guitar Shop, 3101 Pico Blvd. When: 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. Saturday Price: $30 Info: (310) 828-8037, http://www.mccabes.com

Want to know how to tick off a funnyman quickly? Tell people not to take him seriously. Richard "Kinky" Friedman has staked out a career generating chuckles, guffaws and belly laughs. He started out singing often-outrageous songs in the 1970s fronting one of the few Jewish country music bands, Kinky Friedman & the Texas Jewboys, then for the last two decades he's kept readers smiling with his one-liner-filled mystery novels starring himself as a wisecracking but reluctant hero.

Want to know how to tick off a funnyman quickly? Tell people not to take him seriously. Richard "Kinky" Friedman has staked out a career generating chuckles, guffaws and belly laughs. He started out singing often-outrageous songs in the 1970s fronting one of the few Jewish country music bands, Kinky Friedman & the Texas Jewboys, then for the last two decades he's kept readers smiling with his one-liner-filled mystery novels starring himself as a wisecracking but reluctant hero.

The genuine Kinky (of Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys fame) --country singer-turned-novelist--is tough, wry, hip, completely off the peeling wall. Not surprisingly, the fictional Kinky--country singer-turned-amateur detective--is tough, wry, hip, etc. The plot of Friedman's second book is just an excuse, involving the wasting of a riff of singers at the Lone Star Cafe in Greenwich Village. (Each murder is linked to the lyrics of a Hank Williams song. Don't ask.

This is a very kinky mystery--but don't get the wrong idea. The story does have some sexy bits, but nothing shocking. It's just that the wisecracking, cigar-smoking sleuth is named Kinky, whose twangy urban banter brings to mind the onstage persona of the author, Kinky Friedman, better known as a country singer and songwriter, here making his fiction debut.

Kinky FRIEDMAN, country singer turned mystery writer, is still jazzed. He's in a car hurtling from Houston to this small oil-and-tourism town on the Gulf of Mexico, and he's a talking jukebox. Put in a question and listen to him riff about himself and other musicians, about politics and politicians, about books and his beloved Texas.

In one way, Kinky Friedman's mystery novels are unlike anybody else's--witty parodies of the genre in which we're always a little surprised that characters do get kidnapped or murdered and that Kinky Friedman (the author's detective alter ego) is able to solve the case. He's a humanist, an animal lover, given to bawdy wisecracks and poetic musings--the runniest yolk in a hard-boiled field. As a series, however, the Friedman mysteries--15 of them now--bank on being cozily familiar.

If you missed a country and Western novelty act called Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys back in the 1970s, you may need a little background to get the extended inside joke that crackles and pops through the pages of "Armadillos & Old Lace," the latest title in a series of offbeat mystery novels by the man who calls himself "the Kinkster."

In his article on Kinky Friedman's run for governor in Texas ["Governor Kinky?," April 23], Scott Martelle describes Friedman smoking an illegal Cuban cigar in a nonsmoking rental car. That's just what this country needs: another politician who thinks the laws don't apply to him. Donald Bell Los Angeles

Re "Molly Ivins: She was 'a truth-seeking missile'," Current, Feb. 4 What is the purpose of The Times carrying Kinky Friedman's tribute to Molly Ivins? Is it to apologize for not having carried her columns all these years, or is it to tease its readers by demonstrating what they have missed? I take it The Times will print a similar tribute about political cartoonist Paul Conrad when that sad day comes. Only in that instance, The Times' failure will be worse, as Conrad was instrumental in lifting The Times from a mediocre regional paper into a force to be reckoned with.

Kinky Friedman, the musician, mystery writer and self-styled Jewish cowboy running for governor of Texas, was stumping for votes in a smoky beer bar called the Flying Saucer, and spraying one-liners like a Gatling gun. Rick Perry, the Republican governor, "had done a pretty good job -- as a cheerleader at Texas A&M," Friedman joked to raucous applause. Perry had served on the Aggies' pep squad, an apparent political no-no in this macho slice of the Lone Star State.

Musician and mystery writer Kinky Friedman, brandishing his trademark cigar and spouting one-liners, turned in petitions in Austin with nearly 170,000 signatures in his bid to run for governor as an independent candidate. The 169,574 signatures were more than 3 1/2 times the number needed to get Friedman's name on the ballot in November, but they still must be verified, state officials said.

It can pay to have friends in glittery places. Kinky Friedman, iconoclastic country singer, mystery writer and now independent Texas gubernatorial candidate, tonight joins the legions of non-California political hopefuls who have traveled to Los Angeles and, like game show contestants, returned home with a door prize. Cash. "We're trying, of course, to make this a financial pleasure," Friedman said by phone from Texas.

He won't be eating bugs or vying to work for Donald Trump, but humorist and Texas gubernatorial candidate Kinky Friedman plans to put his own stamp on reality television. "Go Kinky," which follows Friedman on the campaign trail, premieres next week on Country Music Television, spokeswoman Laura Stromberg said Friday. The two pilot episodes aren't exactly getting premium air time among CMT's usual diet of music videos and related programming, running back-to-back at 1 a.m. on Wednesday.

In his article on Kinky Friedman's run for governor in Texas ["Governor Kinky?," April 23], Scott Martelle describes Friedman smoking an illegal Cuban cigar in a nonsmoking rental car. That's just what this country needs: another politician who thinks the laws don't apply to him. Donald Bell Los Angeles

Musician and mystery writer Kinky Friedman, brandishing his trademark cigar and spouting one-liners, turned in petitions in Austin with nearly 170,000 signatures in his bid to run for governor as an independent candidate. The 169,574 signatures were more than 3 1/2 times the number needed to get Friedman's name on the ballot in November, but they still must be verified, state officials said.

He won't be eating bugs or vying to work for Donald Trump, but humorist and Texas gubernatorial candidate Kinky Friedman plans to put his own stamp on reality television. "Go Kinky," which follows Friedman on the campaign trail, premieres next week on Country Music Television, spokeswoman Laura Stromberg said Friday. The two pilot episodes aren't exactly getting premium air time among CMT's usual diet of music videos and related programming, running back-to-back at 1 a.m. on Wednesday.

Kinky FRIEDMAN, country singer turned mystery writer, is still jazzed. He's in a car hurtling from Houston to this small oil-and-tourism town on the Gulf of Mexico, and he's a talking jukebox. Put in a question and listen to him riff about himself and other musicians, about politics and politicians, about books and his beloved Texas.

Why am I running for governor of Texas in 2006? Why the hell not? I already have several good campaign slogans, starting with "How hard could it be?" Compared with the daunting financial crunch that Arnold Schwarzenegger inherited when he became governor of California, being governor of Texas is a notoriously easy gig. It's rather like being the judge of a giant chili cook-off.