Billy Eye's 'Porn Credit' - TVparty! Books

York. Video cassettes could now be simultaneously distributed via twenty
thousand dirty bookstores around the country. With two robust distribution
channels and visceral content Higgins’ money came hand over fist. He did
it by casting against type, young guys with lean swimmer’s builds instead of
the decidedly older idols of the 1970s, then positioning the horny pups in
intriguing locales with non-linear but cohesive narratives.
Higgins’ casting couch was the faggle of gay geese on Santa Monica. He knew
how to separate diamonds from the dust. Confident, compactly fit, tussled
dark hair, stubbled tanned face, William Higgins was incredibly attractive,
not so much physically, more as a force of nature. He roamed the halls with
musky co-stars and hangers-on in his wake, a lost boys entourage made all
the more alluring by having obviously just rolled out of bed.
Michael Panknin theorized Higgins only brought around his rough hewn
companions to determine whether or not they could hang in decent
company. Or whatever it was we were. I’ve been told one of the muscular
eighteen year old thoroughbreds Higgins chaperoned was Jeff Stryker who,
a few years later, became the most successful male adult film star of the next
two decades. I’d witnessed
plenty of their
randy antics from the
photos on my drafting
table. I wanted to
dash into the blaring
sunshine with these
worshipped gods,
retreat to their sexual
Valhalla, never returning
to the netherworld
we lesser mortals
inhabited.
The guy I replaced at
Data-Boy did exactly
that. Whenever he
called to arrange Higgins’
advertising placements
his voice rang
out with the raspiness
of late night partying.
I burned with jealousy.
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