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Sitcom Mom Fantasies

Carol_brady Ah, the day after Mother's Day.

It follows that I should write down some of my hottest fantasies about sitcom Moms.

It's always the same. I'm visiting their sons. I'm there for cookies and milk and wholesome fun. But they have other plans. They always have other plans. They want to teach me things. Take me places. They want to show me the room where all the secrets are kept.

These sitcom moms provide maps to navigate the geography of the dark.

CAROL BRADY: So what should we do now that Mike and the six kids and Alice have all went looking for Tiger? That darn dog!

BLACK HOCKEY JESUS: Um, I don't know, Mrs. Brady. I feel kinda tingly and weird. Maybe I should help them look.

CB: Oh come now, Black Hockey Jesus. You're Peter's guest. We don't put our guests to work.

BHJ [blushing]: You said "Come now".

CB: Did you know that Mike is an architect? I'd like to take you to his office and show you some of his drawings.

In Mike's office, Carol shows me a few drawings of various structures like post offices and banks and then flips a page to reveal a sketch of her posing on the staircase, nude.

CB: Sometimes Mike tires of the cold angles of architecture and needs to relax and draw some... curves.

BHJ: I like that drawing a lot, Mrs. Brady.

CB [grabs my crotch]: I can tell you do, Black Hockey Jesus. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to fuck me until I forget I have 6 kids and a gay husband.


Elyse_keaton ELYSE KEATON: I am so sorry, Black Hockey Jesus. Mallory is drunk driving or anorexic or something and Steven, Alex, and Jen have rushed off to help her. But now they're caught in a snow storm and we're alone for the night with no power.

BLACK HOCKEY JESUS: That's OK, Mrs. Keaton. It's not your fault.

EK: Do you smoke, Black Hockey Jesus?

BHJ: Yes. I do. But you won't tell my Mom, will you?

EK: Ha ha ha. Oh Black Hockey Jesus. We've got such a long night ahead. Let's try to forget about Moms and rules and societal taboos.

BHJ: OK. But Mrs. Keaton? This doesn't look like any cigarette I've ever seen.

EK: It's a marijuana cigarette. I'm a liberal democrat.

We smoke and giggle and somehow Skippy is suddenly there and it's very hot so we all wind up without tops in a way that seems perfectly natural because we're so stoned. It's pretty awesome. There's Doritos and vanilla ice cream squashed between big chocolate chip cookies.

EK: ... but then Steven changed. It's like the kids made him square or something and he abandoned our cherished hippie values. Boys? Let's put on some Hendrix, drop LSD, and transgress all our boundaries in a mad display of free love fucking.


Claire_huxtable CLAIRE HUXTABLE: Everyone is sleeping and we're alone and I've noticed you staring at me all day, Black Hockey Jesus. You don't see many black people, do you?

BLACK HOCKEY JESUS: No, Mrs. Huxtable. Theo is the only black kid at school. I'm friends with him because I want to show people that black and white people can get along and be friends due to the essential sameness that lies beneath the color of our skin. Ebony and Ivory is pretty much my favorite song of all time.

CH: Yeah, I'm a lawyer and Heathcliff is a doctor. We're just like white people. But Black Hockey Jesus. I don't think you were staring at me only because I'm black, were you?

BHJ: No, Mrs. Huxtable. I'm sorry I was staring. I think you're very beautiful. You're so unknown and exotic and you evoke a hidden world of secrets and mystery. There is treasure there. Red jewels and piles of shimmering gold coins. When I look at you I'm throttled by an undefined need. It's like I want to see your shoulder in the moonlight. I want to smell your neck. I don't know what it means, Mrs. Huxtable.

CH: It means you want to fuck me, Black Hockey Jesus. And I want to fuck you too because I am not a racist.

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I see you and Claire Huxtable mapping out a new America together, where your white prebuscent alter ego fathers an imaginary continent with a made-up black woman. One day your children will breach the gap that divides the figurative from the literal, and they will pour out into our streets, dancing and singing and wearing argyle sweaters of fearsome beauty.



Tracy H

BHJ, You are sick in the head! And I love it!


Chalk another one up for Black Hockey Jesus. Clapclapclapclapclap!


Not sure what to say except....LMAO!!!

Heather B.

"CH: It means you want to fuck me, Black Hockey Jesus. And I want to fuck you too because I am not a racist."

I want to put that on a wall hanging or something. So that everyday when I look at it, I fall into a fit of giggles and snorts and more giggles.


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Holy crap. Glorious.


Thanks to BHJ, I never have to wonder what would happen if Bob Guccione took over the head of a major network's primetime programming schedule.

"Penthouse Forum Presents Must See TV", indeed.


nice... very, very nice!!!!
xoxo- greeze


You know, I'm trying to think of hot tv Dads to counter but I'm coming up blank. I can't get Mr Belvidere out of my head for some reason. That is not the stuff fantasies are made out of!


Holy shit, I swallowed my tongue a little.


wow, that was beautiful

Eva Robertson

I was kinda hoping you'd take on Samantha of Bewitched.

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