As an author who combines humor with social criticism, I was interested in Jones’ first work of fiction (he has written some 25 non-fiction works).

Newly-talked-about valet Rollo Hemphill is a twenty-something from Los Angeles who is simultaneously disgusted and intrigued by the celebrities whose cars he parks at a five-star hotel. In an attempt to inspire jealousy in the girl of his dreams, he creates, and makes headlines for, a life-like blow-up doll impersonating an aging but sexy actress staying at the hotel.

Instead of failing, Rollo’s ploy lands him his dream job, endless cash and drinks, and a contract to be a candy for actress, Mrs. Monica LaMonica, whose breasts are almost as perky as her face. ego. What follows is a hilarious game involving superhero and silicone underwear; the cast of characters ranges from a Hungarian bellboy to a celebrity couple in a Winnebago.

Although it’s a bit pathetic at first, I found myself rooting for Rollo, who begins this adventure with an interest in stepping into a beautician’s pants. (Haven’t we all had that boost? Regular pedicures will do wonders for any relationship.)

A hilarious read, My Inflatable Friend is also a clever twist on the eye of celebrity culture, as well as America’s intrigue with the famous and the infamous.

However, let me warn you in advance that the only guy who sees any action in this book is the sidekick with the blow-up doll, but he’s not who you think.