Sherlock Holmes meets The Dude from The Big Lebowski.
Kinky Friedman is undoubtedly the world's most famous - not the mention the world's only - Jewish country-singer \ novelist \ politician from the state of Texas, a cigar-chomping, Willy Nelson-adoring iconoclast and humourist in a cowboy hat.
In his novels, he appears very much as he is, only he fancies himself as a modern day Sherlock Holmes to boot, solving mysteries assisted by his posse of real life countercultural friends and a steady diet of Jameson's whiskey, Peruvian marching powder and projectile vomit.
In Blast from the Past, his old friend, political agitator and founder of the Yippies, Abbie Hoffman, in hiding from the authorities during the post-Watergate United States, suddenly shows up on the scene with an assassin in tow.
'The Kinkster', or 'The Kinkstah' or "Pinky, I mean Funky, I mean Stinky, I mean Kinky" if you're not into the whole brevity thing, agrees to investigate alongside his lowlife Dr. Watson surrogate - the journalist and biographer Larry 'Ratso' Sloman - only to discover that the assassin's target may not be Hoffman afterall.
Whether or not you really like Friedman depends a lot on how you take to his (for me) less than amusing and often unappealing idiom of deadbeat hipster slang such as 'dumper' for toilet, CPA (current pelvic affiliation) for girlfriend, or 'not exactly fartin' through silk' which, in its own crude way, is kind of self explanatory.
As mysteries go, this one is not exactly fartin' through silk.
That said, if Kinky ran for office in my constituency I'd probably vote for him, he's a fun guy. However, just like his similarly grubby friends, I wouldn't want him hanging around too often or sleeping on my sofa.