I was thinking of all the bad Elvis impersonators (Buh...buh...buh.. buh buh) and thought it sort of sounded like a bad Bing Cosby impersonation.

I'm going to be getting knee surgery in 6 hours and will be loopy for awhile, so I will have to to pass to whoever wants it.

Good luck with the surgery, Animated! I just happen to have one ready:

1. I was born in 1916 in New York City.

2. My parents, Charles and Fannie, were well-educated Jewish emigrants from Russia.

3. I later claimed to be a Jewish orphan who had been raised in a Catholic boys' home.

4. In the late 1920s I dropped out of high school to work in a variety of jobs, including errand boy, bookies' runner and inventory clerk in a grocer's.

5. For 17 years I was employed by Universal Pictures, which prompted me to write a novel about the American film industry.

Cecile B. DeMille?

6. Several of my novels were adapted into motion pictures or made-for-TV movies.

7. I found inspiration for one of my novels by living in the mountains of Colombia with a group of bandits.

Herman Mankewicz (sp?)

8. The movie King Creole, starring Elvis Presley, was based on one of my novels.

9. I became one of the best-selling authors of all time, writing over 25 best-sellers, selling over 750 million copies in 32 languages.

10. But later studies showed that had I lied about everything. My childhood, my military service, my wives, my mistresses, fortunes won and lost.

Jerzy Kasinski...

11. Even though I amassed a $50 million fortune, I burned through it all in a haze of sex, drugs and louche living.

12. Stephen King once said, ”I don't want to finish up like him. That's my nightmare."

Harold Robbins?

Landmark, you’ve done it again! Harold Robbins is correct. These were my remaining clues, the last one obviously being a complete giveaway:

13. My name was mentioned in a Star Trek episode by Admiral James T. Kirk, and first officer Spock claimed that I was one of the 20th Century "giants" of literature.

14. I was also mentioned by name in an episode of Fawlty Towers, when Basil Faulty referred to my work as 'transatlantic tripe.'

15. The band Squeeze mentioned my name in their song "Pulling Mussels (From The Shell)".

16. The movie made of one of my best-known books is a landmark of the sexual revolution of the 1960s, venturing further than most films of the period with its heated sexual embraces, innuendo, and sadism between men and women.

17. That book (as well as the film) was entitled The Carpetbaggers.

OK Landmark, you're up ...

A Stone for Danny Fisher was the first "adult" book I ever read. I snuck it from my father's room. I don't know if anyone under say 50 realizes how incredibly popular Harold Robbins novels were--while of a completely different genre, he probably sold as many books as Stephen King has. He actually, in the early days was not a bad writer.

1. In 1792, I was elected to the French National Convention
2. In 1793, life was worse: I was arrested and put in prison in Paris
3. A well-connected buddy got me out of prison and four years later I wrote a screed where I introduced the idea of a guaranteed minimum income to be financed through a one-time inheritance tax on landowners.

Robespierre?

Not Robespierre. His guys put me in prison.

4. Okay, it's true I didn't even speak French, but I had a right to be there. I had quite a bit to tell them about.

5. I wrote about it in one of the best-selling books of my time.

6. I got into a fight with George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison all of whom owned vast tracts of land in the territory to the west of the 13 colonies. I insisted that that land be owned by the government, not private land speculators. My view eventually prevailed with the passage of the Northwest Ordinance of 1787.

7. I wrote that monarchy was preposterous and the work of the devil.

8. They called me a "political quack" because of that, but to me it was just common sense.

Benjamin Franklin?

Aaron Burr?

Not Ben, though he wrote me a letter of introduction to the French Revolutionists.

And not Burr.

9. My attacks on conservative writer Edmund Burke led to a trial and conviction in absentia in England in 1792 for the crime of seditious libel. I was a paine in the butt.