Candy

Still from a movie adaptation of Candy. The pneumonic blond is 17-year-old Miss Teen Sweden. She’s pretty much constantly naked; the 60s were awesome.

From expensive, pseudo-artsy lesbian scenes to furball Japanese kink, I love all types of porn. When people tell me they “don’t really watch porn” I think they’re full of shit. Or at least I hope they’re lying, because I fucking love it and feel sorry for anyone who has never spent a lazy Sunday afternoon diddling the little man in the boat with a couple spliffs and Redtube on repeat. And I know for a fact that Terry Southern felt the same way.

“But how can you be so into porn when it degrades and exploits women?” Well actually, that’s precisely what gets me randy. In fact, the more naïve, sweet, and succulent the lithe lamb in the lens is, the better. So naturally, reading the sexploitation-drenched novel Candy by perv-at-large Terry Southern (and Mason Hoffenberg, but he’s not as interesting), was one of the most physically uncomfortable experiences of my life. Uncomfortable, because no matter how I tried to shift my tush on the hard wooden chair I was sitting in, I couldn’t avoid the awkward sensation of my own dripping panties. It really was that good.

Terry hanging out with his homies (from left) Jean Genet, William Burroughs, and Allen Ginsberg

Terry Southern is best known for having written screenplays like Easy Rider, Dr. Strangelove, Barbarella and The Cincinnati Kid. He’s also been involved in a ton of other incredible collaborations; after reading his Wikipedia page, you’ll probably find yourself filled with despair and self-loathing at your own incompetence.

Candy is Southern’s satirical one-upmanship of Voltaire’s Candide, and it follows the same picaresque structure as the latter. Except instead of episode after episode of some optimistic Frenchie running around like a dumbass, Candy follows its titular character on her mission to lose her virginity. You’d think that puncturing your hymen wouldn’t be too hard for a sexy blond nymph—all you have to do is pick a nice looking dick and sit on it, right? But the problem is that noble little Candy Christian will only drop her panties for a good cause (whatever that means).

Ever tried boning while on a psychedelic? You know how your horniness and confusion wrestle against each other in a mega-epic battle and at the end you’re just left staring at a dick as it refracts into mosaic helicoids? I think that’s what watching this movie would be like.

Thankfully, having sex isn’t completely within Candy’s jurisdiction. Every single guy around her is so magnetized to her pert tits and vacant, doe-like eyes that they go apeshit trying to stick it in. Over and over again, Candy is guilelessly lured into almost screwing some rando, but is always saved by circumstance in the nick of time. Many of them get to suckle one or both breasts though, and a few very lucky ones take a few paws at her clit.

Terry must have been a consummate porn-watcher, because he set every chapter up like mini-scenes in a raunchy tit flick. For example, when Candy meets a respectable-looking gynecologist at a café, she’s persuaded to let him give her an examination in the bathroom. Under the guise of testing her clitoral reflexes, he inserts a clamp between her “darling little labias,” and slowly massages, then sucks ravenously at, her sweet pink clit (a wave of water from a broken toilet saves her).

Marlon Brando as one of Candy’s suitors

The best scene by far, however, occurs at Candy’s eventual deflowering. After running away from a horny gynecologist, horny Mexican gardener, horny uncle, horny father, horny college professor, and horny acupuncturist, she finally finds a man who won’t try to trick her. Because he’s a mentally-retarded hunchback hobo. After drooling that he wants to “rubatubdub,” she takes him home, and after murmuring “don’t hurt me darling,” she squats, buries his hump between her legs, and pulls her little labias over it. She loses her V-card to the gnarly hump of a hunchback. I can’t stop coming.

Rating: Five dildos. I’m sorry if you were looking for this column last week and couldn’t find it. I got super into this book and it takes a really, really long time to type using only one hand.

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