“Hey Zane, can you tell I have a boner?”
You know you’ve got a fucked up church if people in cowboy hats are prosecuting you.
Are you fucking kidding me with that get up? I may actually have more in common with the polygamist cult.
“No, I’m actually 23. I just kept the braces on so church elders wouldn’t shove their cocks in my mouth.”
“I’ll be honest. I miss my wives. Most of ‘em.”
“You see, that’s me, and that’s the truck that kills you if you talk about what happens in Temple to outsiders.”
Honestly, she’s probably felt the way this picture looks all her life.
What baffles me is how they chose that hairstyle. It’s not like they refuse to style their hair and shun all attempts at controlling their appearance, those bangs take effort. Someone decided that was a righteous haircut.
Not only are the girls allowed to exercise, it’s encouraged, so they’ll have less energy to fight off their 80 year-old husband.
I didn’t know Frieda Kahlo was Mormon.
“That’s it, you’re free now. Get on the bus to be driven to a holding location. Sweet freedom—soak it up ladies!”
“How am I supposed to find a husband for my daughter here? She’s almost eight- that clock’s a’ tickin’.”
“Stay strong. These are those devil stairs I warned you about. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot.”
“Here’s the deal, these women are fucked up. Really fucked up. Like, fucked-in-the-Jesus-hole fucked up.”