Porn comedy.
Bubble-brained Candy Christian travels to Hollywood to make it big and instead gets taken under the wing of a sleazy ‘talent agent’ bent on exploiting her for his own personal gain.
I have sort of a connection here, albeit an indirect one.
Wendy and I were born in the same hospital, just three months apart. She grew up about two miles from me, although those two miles were all water, a large bay that split our neighborhoods into completely separate communities that never mixed. Mine (Irondequoit) was suburban, barely escaping urban. Hers (Webster) was rural, trying to be suburban.
Many people from her town commuted to my high school, so many that there were school buses specifically dedicated to that route. At one of my reunions, I asked the Webster guys whether anyone knew her. None had attended her elementary school, and none had ever even run into her, but they mentioned that the driver of their school bus, Bob Williams, was her dad!
After childhood, our lives were very different. By the time we were 16, she was hitchhiking around the world and I was probably still trying to organize my baseball cards. By the time we reached our late 20s, she was working in porno and sex shows, including Candy Goes to Hollywood, and I was a working stiff, a suburban dad, and still kind of a naif. The baseball cards were gone, but I was still in possession of my comic book collection. By 1998, as we were about to turn 50, I had already retired, and was enjoying my new life as Uncle Scoopy. She was putting a bullet through her brain.
There were probably times when I envied her adventurous life and her eventual international fame as lead singer of the Plasmatics, but in retrospect, my incredibly boring path through corporate America was a much better choice.
Film clips. For some reason, this crappy movie is available on Blu-Ray! Wendy appeared, using her real name (!!), as a contestant on “The Dong Show,” where she got donged by a fake Jaye P. Morgan. The X-rated “Chuck Bareass” did a fairly good impersonation of the real thing.
Some seven years later, Wendy appeared topless in Reform School Girls. Those must have been seven tough years. She was lookin’ pretty rough at 37.
She rates a Wikipedia entry
I would hope so. She was pretty famous for a while. She wasn’t Whitney Houston famous, but she was nominated for a Grammy Award for best female rock vocal!
Even has a Mario character named after her. Rochester has a connection to Super Mario Bros, neat. Maybe Wendy Koopas castle should be a Wegmans
The good old days of female nudity. It won’t come back.
Now that was a woman. If she was still around, Taylor Swift would be shitting herself in fear.
The book is just called Candy by Terry Southern. It’s worth chasing down, but in case you’d rather not – the big running joke is that Candy is just this sweet piece of ass. Everywhere she goes, someone’s constantly trying to hump her. More often than not, she’ll look at this guy, a clay-smeared yogi in Nepal, or a pervy hunchback eating a piece of toast he found on a men’s room floor, whatever – and go “Good grief! It’s DADDY!!”
I remember sometime in the late 70s/early 80s she made headlines in Boston because she bared her boobs on some after-hours local TV show. I never saw it, but it was never clear whether it was intentional or not.
I think I’ve spotted a Full Heche?
I’d call that a Heche Plus.
Maybe it’s just the camera angle….
That’s beyond Heche, that’s the sphincter trick from Pink Flamingos
Amazing digging as usual, scoop
this is her suicide note: I don’t believe that people should take their own lives without deep and thoughtful reflection over a considerable period of time. I do believe strongly, however, that the right to do so is one of the most fundamental rights that anyone in a free society should have. For me, much of the world makes no sense, but my feelings about what I am doing ring loud and clear to an inner ear and a place where there is no self, only calm.”