Every few months, I YouTube James Ellroy, my favorite writer of contemporary crime fiction. I do this not only because his books always leave me in awe, but also because he’s crass, hilarious, brutally honest, and usually mentions the size of his cock. When making public appearances, he leads with:
Good evening peepers, prowlers, pederasts, panty-sniffers, punks and pimps. I’m James Ellroy, the demon dog, the foul owl with the death growl, the white knight of the far right, and the slick trick with the donkey dick. I’m the author of 16 books, masterpieces all; they precede all my future masterpieces. These books will leave you reamed, steamed and drycleaned, tie-dyed, swept to the side, true-blued, tattooed and bah fongooed. These are books for the whole fuckin’ family, if the name of your family is the Manson Family.
It doesn’t get much better than that, folks. Today I came across these two gems from Conan O’Brien. In the above clip – featuring Dave Chappelle – Ellroy is on to promote Crime Wave. He doesn’t mention the book, put he manages to discuss the size of Conan’s cock (“like a mosquito”), insults Bill Clinton, explains his idea for an equal opportunity Ku Klux Klan, and tells a story about a T-Bird induced alcoholic blackout. By the end, Chappelle states, “This is like the most awesome experience of my career.”
Then hit the jump to see an interview from ’97 where Ellroy explains how he would leave creepy messages on Russell Crowe’s answering machine and his affinity for wearing sweaters made from the pubic hair of yaks. And if you’re interested in his work, I recommend starting out with his autobiography, My Dark Places. He never goes soft on you.
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