The Barnes & Noble Review The premise is nice and easy. As is the book.Since Kinky is vaguely, sort of, kind of, maybe a little bit like Sherlock Holmes, shouldn't he have a Watson to assist him? But which of his cronies deserves the job? Kinky decides to pull a trick on them. Fake a note that threatens the life of Winnie Katz, the dance instructor who thunders through her days and nights on the floor above Kinky. Whichever one of his pals can best show off his deductive skills gets the Watson gig. But then somebody really does try to kill Winnie Katz, and the fake threat becomes a real one.I'm old enough to remember radio shows, and that's what Friedman's style reminds me of — those great old shows where truly strange characters wander in and out every few minutes. You don't care about the plot — and God knows there isn't any theme — you just want more of the weird animals in the radio zoo.Friedman has a nice touch with the modern dilemma of political correctness. He generally manages to offend everybody, which is the best way to do it. Upon occasion, however, some of the minority bashing gets tiresome (pretty easy targets for somebody as hip and clever as Kinky)...but for the most part the reader just revels in all the fun as Kinky practices his greatest skill, that of literary monologist. He has a particularly good eye for the refugees of the '60s and '70s. He's equally good at dialogue. It's virtually flawless. You never notice how much most of us whine until you run a couple pages of Kinkster dialogue past your eyeballs. What a bunch of crybabies we are. I don't think my generationwillever grow up (myself included), and I can cite Kinky's dialogue as evidence if I'm ever dragged into court.What can I tell you? This is a genuinely funny, weirdly endearing book that earns its keep on wit rather than plot. But who cares about plot when you're having so much fun? This