Well, Mrs. Porter certainly doesn't get any catcalls as she plods and waddles down the street, but compared to some of these women, she could easily ace a beauty pageant.
I look at this one (and I'm not entirely convinced it's even female, given my homo-rectal years prowling the injun reservations), and she looks like about as much fun as forty miles of washboard gravel road.
But I suppose it is an option for an elderly man of God, when the wife inevitably vapor-locks on the sofa eating pork rinds. At least these poor souls DO have Christ in their hearts.
Thank you Brother Titus.
In Him