Here are Luca Satana titles from Phase 4 (2021-2023) with best selling series like Moms Who Like To Hang Out More Than They Probably Should, Getting To Know Mom, Mom Copy, The Best Shot, and My Mom’s Fucked-Up Time-Outs Should Really Be Called Time-Ins.
Luca Satana: Phase 1 (2014-2016) ~ Luca Satana: Phase 2 (2017-2018) ~ Luca Satana: Phase 3 (2019-2020) ~ Luca Satana: Phase 4 (2021-2023)
Luca Satana Series
Phase 4 (2021-2023)
About midway through my senior year of high school, I started having a rough go of things. At the time, I didn’t have a clue why. Whatever the reason, it manifested itself in various ways, mostly moodiness. I guess I could be a right prick. To put it plainly, I had issues. To the point my guidance counselor suggested I see a therapist. But my dad didn’t believe in therapy. So, my mom stepped in. If my dad wasn’t going to do something, she was.
The first thing my mom did was found a couple second-hand cushy chairs she believed looked a lot like the cushy chairs you might find in a therapist’s office. Then, she started watching a little extra therapist shows like The Sopranos and In Treatment. And when she felt good and ready, she approached me, her prospective first and only client.
I have to say, my mom tried her best to convince me she knew what the fuck she was doing. Even though she didn’t exactly succeed in that, I did appreciate the effort. At least she was trying, which was more than I could say for my dad.
And, who knows, in the end, maybe my mom was right, maybe all I needed was some good old-fashioned Mommy Therapy.
A little empowerment is good. But sometimes it can turn a small group of otherwise timid moms fulfilling an elective requirement with a women empowerment course at their local community college into moms who like to hang out a little more than they probably should. In some cases leaving the men in their lives heads absolutely spinning.
Believe it or not this was all coming from a good place. I just wanted to give my mom a little excitement. And I guess it worked. A little too well. To the point my mom started asking to borrow me for a few seconds. Here and there. Then seemingly everywhere. And now I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever get a few seconds to myself ever again.
Alex’s mom Heart really wanted to stay up. But what’s the point in staying up if you’re all alone? So, naturally, Heart wanted him to stay up with her. And naturally she was prepared to do anything to keep him up. Yup, even that!
Hi. I’m Joe. And yeah, I guess I am sorry for the role I played in this whole messed up situation. And yet, I’m kind of not. I mean, there was some definite truth to what I was saying. In the beginning. But then things just spiraled. You know how these things get. Regardless, after a while, I really do think my mom’s milk made me feel better.
Finally, there’s a series devoted to men getting to know their moms. You know, biblically speaking. And not a moment too soon.
Mommy Doesn’t Need To Know Mommy Is Coming
Starting with Mommy Doesn’t Need To Know Mommy Is Coming:
In the history of weird situations, this has got to be the weirdest. And I wonder on what planet my moms thought this was okay. And yes, I did mean moms. Even though, technically, only one of them gave birth to me, they both were my moms. And if you ask me, the two of them, both of my moms, need to take a long serious look in the mirror to consider the part they played in this misadventure. I think, only then can we truly start to come back from this. You hear me, Moms?
Nobody Needs To Know Mommy Is Coming
Then, a slightly different Nobody Needs To Know Mommy Is Coming:
Okay, totally my bad. I’ll admit it. I never should have put myself in that situation. In any of these situations. Especially when I knew how much of a fan my mom was of sex. Or, in particular, a fan of a certain part of the male anatomy. Still, how big a fan I never could have known. And if I’m not careful, everyone else will know. Which was something my mom most definitely was not a big fan of. Not even a little bit.
But With Mommy’s Help You Could Know Even More
And, next, we have But With Mommy’s Help You Could Know Even More:
In retrospect, yeah, I never should have told my mom how my girlfriend helped me know what was on the midterm. I mean, I should have known she wouldn’t approve. But the way she didn’t approve was a bit surprising. And probably way worse. Because my mom was convinced if I let my mom help me I could know even more. The scary part was I think my mom knew what she was talking about.
Cheryl didn’t know what it was about her son Charlie. He just wasn’t very fond of her. In fact, at times, he was downright rude. If it wasn’t for this whole Mom Copy incident, she might not have ever known how her son really felt about her. And in a way, isn’t that a good thing?
My mom beats me. In pretty much every sense of the word. I know. Weird. She thinks it’s hilarious. It’s sick. And gross. And freaky. And spectacular. But awful, too. And she just laughs and laughs. And I just get beat and beat. In pretty much every sense of the word. I know. Weird.
For a pretty healthy, mostly normal 18-year-old guy, I think everything was going just fine in my life. So, I wasn’t the most sexual person in the world. I had my future to think about. Who had time for things like girls? Sex? Etc.? Little did I know, those were the exact things that would have protected me from what was about to happen in my life. My totally fucked-up, out-there, life.
Mommy Wants To Give You The Best Shot At Leading A Productive Life
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Aunt Beca Wants To Give You The Best Shot At Acing All Her Orifices
Grandma Wants To Give You The Best Shot At Being Her Fountain Of Youth
If you ask me, my mom’s fucked-up time-outs should really be called time-ins. I’m just saying. I’m not trying to be crass. Just accurate. So many things in life are inaccurate. Or, let’s face it, false. Or just lazily handled. So, I would like to get this one thing right. And that is my mom’s fucked-up time-outs should really be called time-ins.
For whatever reason, my mom felt she needed to lose some weight. So that’s what she did. And then some. Eventually, I had to step in. I told her, “I don’t care! You have to eat something, Mom!” So that’s what she did. And then some. More than I could muster. And then some more after that. I truly think it was the best thing for her. Or maybe it was the best thing for me. Truly the best.
When I think about my art mom, I just know I can’t be the only one going through this, suffering day and night at the hands and body of an art mom. I’d be curious to know. For now, all I can do is persevere, and maybe in the more sobering moments, enjoy the art.
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