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calciumdeficientt · 10 months

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hello clockwork orange community. do you like nadsat? i have nadsat (old commission)

Welly welly welly well my brothers it is time once again it would appear, for uncle Alex to tell you a story. An omission from the tale of my previous exploits and this, my dear brothers, is my way of sending my deepest appy polly logies to you all; twas a nochy like any other I suppose, my little droogies and I out in the thick of it. A routine trip to the korova milk bar was well underway, my cancer now barely a nub of ash and orange filter when suddenly, like some great divine inspiration from bog or whoever else may be lurking up above us in the great black nowhere. Dim opened his great big maw as if to say something, noticing the shift in my expression no doubt, a raised hand from myself soon silenced him and he fell quickly back into submission. This was our second visit of the evening, our nightcap until we four parted and I found myself headed bedways to municipal flatblock 18-a, but tonight brothers I found that this second bout of moloko plus had done me no good at all; no indeed my brothers, all it seemed to achieve was to further stir me for another few hours out to myself, the other three could follow me or not. Georgie had a funny look about his glazzies,shagged fagged, fashed and downright useless. In no state for any more of the ultraviolence tonight. No indeed.

“Dobby nochy, brothers”

I found myself humming absentmindedly, staring through the film of moloko left at the bottom of my glass and adjusting the hat placed atop my gulliver, stood up to take my leave

“Bedways so soon, Alex?”

Pete guffawed, leaned so far back in his chair I was almost certain he would disappear into it. Despite questioning my quick exit, he looked in no way prepared to leave himself

“Quite the opposite, o my brother. Much fun is yet to be had, although it is now clearer than crystal to me that our earlier fillying hath done all tree of you in, and with thus I must bid you adieu”

Outside it was bitter cold, much much bitterer and colder than I had remembered it. Soon enough the knives that I had ingested would begin to work their magic, brothers and I would become all the more aware of the lewdies, or lackthereof out and about on the streets. I had bid my little droogies a dobby nochy, that much was true but it was now more apparent than ever that night would soon be over and was bleeding over into the young hours of the morning. Luckily for little old me, I had my maskiwask in my clutches from an earlier spree of shop crasting under full, glorious anonymity hidden, too under the cover of darkest and most mysterious night. Black sky was now a very deep blue and as the moloko plus paid its due dividends I feel, o dear brothers, that the sand in my own ultraviolent hourglass was running out, running thinly like the krovvy of a malchick low on his iron. A rustle from an abandoned gazetta pricked mine ears as I trudged carefully through the street, waiting patiently for any sign of life.Caution was the key in these night-time affairs as the threat of the barry place was ever present, and while I did not fear the stripy hole I did fear for what it may have done to me old pee and em.

I took some liberties with my route home, opting for small alleys as opposed to wider, much more open streets. An unorthodox decision considering I had found myself droogless and after yet another clash with Billy boy and his other eunuch jellies could have even put myself at risk of an ambush but having no one but myself beside me makes this victory mine alone. My pocket jingled with pretty polly, distended from the volume of it. The noise seemed to draw out a devotchka. She looked poogly, her dress hanging off her as though it had been thrown on in a hurry. Big brown glazzies met mine and I could see the glimmer of tears in them, clearly she had been boo hoo hooing and for why I did not know. The old in-out always went down a treat when the urge was still around, nagging even after a whole nochy of fillying. I fancied I could slooshy her heart hammering against her ribs and what a pleasant sound it was, strands of dark brown glory flopped limply over her pale, moonish face as she looked up at me all, like expectant. I watched her back herself up against the wall, making it clear to me that someone had gotten to her first. Had I been a bit more present, I might have left her to find some other dama for myself. There were plenty about after all but mostly I was glad to have found her in the state I had. All warmed up, brothers. Relaxed despite her best wishes not to be. I fancied myself to be a kot, I did. Quite right. This is what, dear reader, cats of the street are so fond of doing. Breeding, filling the streets with as many filthy beasts as their malenky bodies might let them before bog gets them as he does all things. Never one for lubbilubbing was dear uncle Alex, brothers. Not one care for it at all I must attest.

Now, where were we? Ah yes, the devotchka with the moony litso. Very very pretty, yes yes there was no denying that brothers and droogs alike, she was beautiful. I fancied the krovvy on her might have tasted like jammiwam but I didn't bother to test it, most of it was staining her dress. Beginning to dry that horrible old blood brown as opposed to that gorgeous red that sent shivers through me when even the tiniest bead dropped from a lewdie. Not so rare and yet far more precious to me than any jewel in the world.

What happened next, brothers, was something I could be nothing but proud of. I let my face drop a little bit so I wasn’t scowling so much, it helps to lessen resistance in devotchkas I find. Despite my partiality to a bit of chase and find, that fateful nochy I was not in the mood, no autos were crasted that night so my poor dear feet were so achy that any more fillying about may have caused them to drop off. I stood there for a bit, chumbling to myself before I pounced. Her creeching was low and half-hearted as if she knew herself that it wasn't going to garner a drop of sympathy from me. This certainly was not the fault of the devotchka, most persons would be in the mindset to creech for their life, especially this one. The creetching soon stopped when, from out of my pocket I brough out my most trusted nozh. Hardly used that night, nice and clean, or at least as clean as a knife could be. It was sharp, cold, so tantalising I could feel my pan handle straining against my neezhnies at the thought of how pretty she might look under it. How still she might be if i teased it against her neck… if I teased it somewhere else. Brothers I found myself drooling at the concept. Just as I suspected, the creeching ceased and was replaced with silent weeping. I watched her chest jerk up and down as she tried to keep herself nice and quiet for me, as I pressed the blade into her neck, gently so it would only barely nick the skin. I would press harder elsewhere when she was nagoy, I thought to myself with deepest delight, watching this devotchka, already poogly from another encounter, half dressed as it were, struggling to undress herself at my command was too much. Then, out came the kot, slashiwashing with my knife the dress was out of the picture.

Ah. Nothing underneath. The cry at the sudden cold made me believe this was not something she had chosen for herself. Fearing the millicents on their early morning beats I worked quickly to strip myself of anything below my waist and get cracking on with the in-out-in out. She would have to warm up to it or suffer the consequences, most devotchkas did when I was with my droogies. On my oddy knocky I was not so sure but she would have to put up with it, my pan handle was now growing too hard to ignore. Her nogas were clasped tight, a feeble attempt for her to keep her dignity. Unlikely to work when I was in such a beastly temperament, every second wasted only seemed to make me angrier. Like when you flap a red cloth at a bull. I parted the clasped legs, it took a lot, mind, but the trembling of the muscles and the purple, pulsing, cables under her pale skin let me know she wouldn’t try and close them again.

Something possessed me to speak to her. A small slip of the tongue to keep her quiet at the world woke up. An angry throb below the belt led my mind elsewhere. I figured the nozh would be enough to keep her quiet, little drops of blood beaded around where the pressure was. Even the lowest whimper made her delicate skin press against the blade. My free hand circled a glazz, and pinched it. Her cry sent me jolting into her on just instinct alone, sheathing myself comfortably. It was clear that someone had been at her before me as there was no resistance, no horrible gravelly feeling and I pushed my way into her. In-out-in-out, smooth as if we were luddilubbing. Her face was scrunched up as if she was trying to build the nerve to start creeching. I wouldn’t have minded, sometimes I find, it really eggiwegs me to keep going.

As I moved. The hand that had been cupping her bezoomny had moved to firmly grip her waist, the hand with the knife had done the same. I made a real show of that one, creating a fine red line down from the centre of the neck all the way down her middle. Like I was a surgeon about to cut her up and perform the old in-out-in out on her guttiwuts. The krovvy only made me harder, so maybe, oh my brothers, it was a mistake to cut her as I did. But oh, it was heaven. Bog new damned. I cast my eyes toward her grahzny dress, and then back to her naked frame. I noted, brothers, that she looked like a doll more than she did a living, breathing lewdie. In and out I moved over and over, listening out for any millicents that may have interrupted such an intimate interaction. Eventually, I noticed that the shirt of my koshtoom was sticking to my back. Clinging to the skin, adhered by pearls of sweat. I could taste that irony taste fizzling in the back of my throat, it was almost time for the big finale brothers. My muscles were shouting this from the rooftops too, make no doubt about that little droogies, they burned so fiercely that even knives devoid of moloko could not quell the sensation.

The devotchka had quite visibly relaxed under my touch. As I, your dear and most trustworthy uncle Alex, kept tight firm hold of her bony waist I pondered the possibility that in some way shape or form she was thoroughly enjoying this feeling. Having accepted it she might have allowed herself to take pleasure in this. A twitch from my pan handle let me know the end was upon us and acting yet again on my most trusted friend, animal instinct, I grabbed a fistful of her luscious glory and tugged as hard as I could muster. Her creech of pain as her hair departed from her scalp was more than enough noise to conceal the low groan that accompanied my orgasm. As I slid out of her I relished in the fact that she seemed too full to move from my seed.

I cleaned myself off using her dress and dropped it on her nagoy frame. Dressing my lower half swiftly and nimbly, the deliberately quiet platching of the young girl was terribly terribly moving. I threw some coins at her litso, knowing I only had a minoota or two until the millicent’s found her or even worse that she found them. Wordlessly I left her, nudging her with my boot as she left just to check that she was ticking away nicely and the pol hadn’t killed her. When she groaned, I knew at once it was bedways for me, and quickly.

A nochy to remember indeed. O my brothers.

#a clockwork orange #acwo #aco #nadsat

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mochacinogirl · 1 year

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Apparently, This is Love

It's funny how every love songs suddenly remind me of you. Taylor Swift said he's so tall and handsome as hell while Tulus said maafkan aku jatuh suka. And all I can remember is you; your face, your smile, your eyes. It's kinda strange for me to suddenly smile like an idiot whenever someone say your name. I can't even explain why my terrible day feels better just a second after I see your name pop up in my notification.

It's miraculous how you always make me happy in a simplest way. I still remember it was a tiring day for me. Fifth semester was hard. My day was not going so well until you text me, "Let's eat sushi :)"

I can't hide my smile and reply your text, "Sureee!"

I don't eat sushi. But, how can I say no when it's my chance to see and spending my time with you?

"I'll pick you up at 5 :D" Oh, now you didn't just smile. You grin. I like that.

So, I just staring at you while you were eating sushi. I love the way your eyes twinkle when you eat the best sushi in this town (according to you). I love the way you clapped your hands when you finished all meal. You look so happy and it was contagious. I giggled to see you act like a child.

Then we went to the ground floor to buy my favorite J.Co cookies and cream frappe. The ground floor was so crowded because there was a meet and greet event. You held my hand and it feels electrical in my skin (not in literal way. I just surprised with your sudden gesture).

"I don't wanna lose you. It's too crowded. You may be lose and kidnapped by freaky strager," you said, a half mocking me.

I supposed to mad at you. But I just tried my best to act cool in front of you when my heart beat so fast like it could explode right at this moment. I didn't say anything and held back your hand tightly.

It feels like that day never could been better. But, I was wrong because you let me eat your free glazzy doughnut just because you know how much I love it. No one share their glazzy doughnut to me before because it's definitely everyone's favourite--just like McD chicken skin.

"It's the best part of ordering beverage here, you know? You can't share your free glazzy doughnut to anyone!" I refused.

You pat my head. You make me fool and have to act cool for thousands time, "I give the best part to the best person. It's fair, I think."

So, apparently, this is what people called love. This is how it feels to have butterflies in stomach. So dumb and absurd.

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o7bm · 2 years

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looking back now from the comfort of certainty i can see every word came out of your mouth was a jewel to my ears. even when we were not lover but just two little child with issues. your words describing your scars, your words making me feel not alone. i have alwaysed loved your words.

if i had the power i would give you the world. but i dont and i dont have much to offer. this tiny universe gave me nothing but extraordinary luck which leaded us to each other. besides that my only possesion is my given self, given name, a name that i want to be defined by you.

i remember a moment, waiting you in a stary night with even brighter eyes, looking to the road ahead and the one you are coming from, the one i from. i remember loosing my way a few times, ended up places i dont belong. but with you, with you my ears glazzy eyed love i am confident we can reach where we suppose to be.

Happy 5th monthiversary my Love!!

#to s

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lawyeronabike · 14 days

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Book Talk #3: A Clockwork Orange, Free Will, and Motives of Christian Ethos

Does motive matter in ethics? If you do the "right" thing for the wrong reason, is it still right? If you do the "wrong" thing for the "right" reasons, is it still "wrong"? Put your thinking cap on your gulliver, my droogies. Today, we're examining Anthony Burgess's A Clockwork Orange as a case study in ethics, as well highlighting a major flaw in Christianity (a noble pastime if there ever was one).

Part I: The Plot of A Clockwork Orange

I'll include only what's needed for the analysis here. It's still a book worth reading.

The book can roughly be into three parts. The first third is Alex committing horrible, violent crimes so we understand who he is and why he gets treated the way he does later in the book. After a rape and burglary goes bad, the woman he raped dies, and he is incarcerated for murder.

The next third documents Alex's time in prison, including his volunteering and selection for a clinical trial called "the Ludovico Technique." It a fictional form of aversion therapy that involves Alex watching violent and pornographic films while being injected with drugs to make him nauseous. The technique is a "success." When he leaves the program he becomes violently ill when he gets horny or tries to engage in violence. Admittedly, he was previously a rapist, but this procedure closes off even the possibility of consensual sex. Alex is now also incapable of being violent, this includes an inability to use violence in self defense. Because of the background music that was used in the films, he can't even listen to classical music any more, which used to one of his greatest joys.

(To make sure he watches the film, his eyelids are pried open, with scientists administrating eye drops. It's the definition of a captive audience.)

The last third follows his journey back in the free world. Mostly, it involves him being down on his luck. People are cruel to him, and many of the people he brutalized before going to prison, now seeing his defenseless state, exact revenge on him, beating him senselessly. Many readers feel sympathy for Alex at this point. He's no longer the monster he once was. He literally cannot be. One of the last scenes of the book is him being locked in a room, subjected to the blasting of classical music. To save himself the agony of his conditioning, he autodefenestrates (jumps out the window) in an attempt to kill himself.

The music was still pouring in all brass and drums and the violins miles up through the wall. The window in the room where I had laid down was open. I ittied to it and viddied a fair drop to the autos and buses and walking chellovecks below. I creeched out to the world: ‘Goodbye, goodbye, may Bog forgive you for a ruined life.’ Then I got on to the sill, the music blasting away to my left, and I shut my glazzies and felt the cold wind on my litso, then I jumped.

-A Clockwork Orange: Part 3, Chapter 5

Yes yes. I know left out many important plot points and symbolic details. The entire book is worth reading, and it's not that long either.

Part II: What A Clockwork Orange is Interpreted to Mean

Now that we have essential plot elements laid out, we can ask. Is Alex is now good? Most interpretations of the book at this point conclude that Alex is neither good nor evil. Take for example, an analysis by Thomas C. Foster, a professor emeritus of English at the University of Michigan-Flint. In his 2003 book, How to Read Literature Like a Professor, he states

When his capacity to choose is taken away, evil is replaced not with goodness but with a hollow simulacrum of goodness. Because he still wants to choose evil, he is in no way reformed. In acquiring the desired behavior through the “Ludovico Technique,” . . . society has not only failed to correct Alex but has committed a far worse crime against him by taking away his free will, which for Burgess is the hallmark of the human being.

Morality requires choice. We don't condemn hurricanes for their evil nature. Hurricanes are amoral, as hurricanes have no agency. People are understandably uncomfortable about thinking of human beings as being without free will. It would seem to undermine a core assumption on which society is built. And yet...

Part III: What Burgess Doesn't Get - The Problem of Free Will

For starters, it probably doesn't exist.

Perhaps the believers and the nonbelievers can be one day united in their skepticism of free will. For nonbelievers, there are deterministic arguments. But don't think that let's believers off of the hook.

Many Christians believe in an omniscient god. This appears to be directly incompatible with free will. I figured this out when I was about twelve or thirteen. If god knows I will choose A, then do I have free will to choose B? Not if god is omniscient.

(If "god's plan" is a real thing, then you can kiss free will goodbye)

Part IV: "Good" Things for "Bad" Reasons

So let's take a step back from that for a second and assume, for the sake of argument, that free will exists. Who actually has it in a meaningful sense. Believers? Or nonbelievers?

Many Christians believe that actions on this earth determine your eternal place in heaven or hell, and that your placement there depends on doing various "good works."

(I know it's a theological debate between protestants, who believe in Sola Fide, or faith alone as a ticket to heaven, and Catholics, who believe it requires faith and good works.)

As a further side note, the requirement of faith itself has troubling implications. You don't control your faith. If I asked you to change your religious beliefs, right now, you couldn't' do it. In many respects, your beliefs can better be described as something that happens to you, rather than something you choose.

So assuming there is, in fact, free will, and ignoring the troubling implications of a faith requirement, let's talk about the good works component. Let's say you have a believing Catholic who wants to go to heaven. They are as convinced of heaven and hell and the truth of the bible as they are of gravity. They volunteer to feed the homeless. Did they do so in any meaningful way?

Let's put this another way. Imagine I approach you with a shovel in my hand. I credibly threaten to beat you senseless unless you feed the homeless. You comply. Did you do good by feeding the homeless? Is it even possible to know? If you help other people for a a selfish reason, how should that be morally judged?

These two situations are not so different. If you truly believe in the fire and brimstone, there are only two key differences separating the above scenarios. One is the depth of punishment and reward. Christian hell is a far greater punishment than being beaten with a shovel. The other is immanency. Being sent to hell won't happen immediately, but the catholic still believes it will happen. It seems to me that the punishment being delayed does not actually change the moral calculus. Whether punishment and reward are served immediately or in fifty years, the people in the above scenarios are still acting pro-socaily for selfish reasons. In this way, such a person, like Alex, has become a Clockwork Orange. Organic on the outside, mechanical on the inside, and stripped of any meaningful choice.

The book itself seems to recognize the tension between being a christian and being a person with free will.

‘Choice,’ rumbled a rich deep goloss. I viddied it belonged to the prison charlie. ‘He has no real choice, has he? Self-interest, fear of physical pain, drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.’

‘He will be your true Christian,’ Dr Brodsky was creeching out, ‘ready to turn the other cheek, ready to be crucified rather than crucify, sick to the very heart at the thought even of killing a fly.’ And that was right, brothers, because when he said that I thought of killing a fly and felt just that tiny bit sick, but I pushed the sickness and pain back by thinking of the fly being fed with bits of sugar and looked after like a bleeding pet and all that cal.

-A Clockwork Orange, Part 2, Chapter 7

Ironically, this means that atheists, who will be more likely than Christians to deny the existence of free will, are more likely to actually have it in any meaningful way. Should free will exist, the only people who are able to make meaningful choices are those who believe that life is unhindered by any cosmic balancing scales, or those that are willing tot defy god.

Part V: "Bad" things for "Good Reasons"

The bible is a mess of a book, and much of it justifies and supports slavery. Many people in the American antebellum south believed slavery was a righteous thing, permitted by god. Liberating slaves would be wrong, as it would be stealing. It is in this moral conundrum Mark Twain places his titular character in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Huck, believing it is dictated by his religion, writes a letter revealing the location of Jim, a runaway slave. But he hasn't sent it yet, he first reflects.

I saved him by telling the men we had small-pox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the only one he’s got now; and then I happened to look around and see that paper.

It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a-trembling, because I’d got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:

“All right, then, I’ll go to hell” — and tore it up.

It was awful thoughts and awful words, but they was said. And I let them stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole thing out of my head, and said I would take up wickedness again, which was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn’t. And for a starter I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again; and if I could think up anything worse, I would do that, too; because as long as I was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog.

-The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Chapter 31

Huck is willing to suffer eternal damnation, in a very literal sense, to help his friend. He believes he is doing the "wrong" thing, and is willing to do it anyway. What if Huck didn't believe it was wrong to protect Jim? Does that change the morality of his choice? Is Huck's good deed greater because he's willing to suffer enormous consequences for it? Is it less of a good deed because he believes he's doing the wrong thing?

(When in doubt, rely on the power of friendship)

Few people today would believe that freeing slaves is a wrong act, regardless of what the bible says. So to drive the message home, let's take a more controversial example.

Inhabit, once again, the world of religion, the dogma of heaven and hell. If you could kill somebody, and know they would go straight to heaven, should you do it? Let's say you already knew you were going to hell. What would you have to lose, spiritually speaking?

The Mormons make a particularly interesting example for this. They are a denomination that rejects the doctrine of original sin, meaning children are sinless when they enter the world. They also believe that children can't sin until the "age of accountability," which modern practice sets at eight years old.

For all men must repent and be baptized, and not only men, but women, and children who have arrived at the years of accountability.

-Doctrine and Covenants, Section 18 verse 42

And I also beheld that all children who die before they arrive at the years of accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom of heaven.

-Doctrine and Covenants, section 137 verse 10

One can imagine a mormon zealot serially killing as many children as possible under eight years old in order to secure them a place in heaven. After all, it's all downhill after eight. They may very well fall prey to temptation. From this perspective, it's best to give them a speedy trip to the afterlife. If you truly believed the same mormon doctrine as them, could you condemn them?

Part VI: Recap

Let's examine our characters again, and ask if any of them are truly good.

Alex: Does the "right" thing, given literally no choice in the matter

Catholic Zealot: Does the "right" thing, but is given no meaningful choice in the matter. They believe that failure to do do the "right" thing will be met with eternal torment, so their actions are selfishly motivated.

Huckleberry Finn: Does what he believes is the "wrong" thing, but for selfless reasons, and is willing to go to hell.

Mormon Zealot: Does the wrong thing, for selfless reasons. Willing to endure hell so others can make it to heaven.

Obviously, killing kids to send them to heaven should get you sent to an insane asylum. I feel I've waded in the waters of delusion land long enough that it may be helpful at this point to remind the reader that there is no god. There is no heaven. And the is no hell. And yet...

If you take the Clockwork Orange perspective, that being good requires moral choice, you need one of two things. You need to believe there is no god with any moral care what happens here, or you need to be willing to defy god. To cower at god's might, to do what god says to save your own skin, can not be considered moral. It is, at best, as our friend Thomas Foster puts it, merely a "simulacrum of goodness."

Part VII: Sacrifice-Off

I'm not the first to note that even according to the bible, Jesus's sacrifice doesn't seem so special. Crucifixion definitely seems painful (if you ever see me up on a cross, please mercy kill me), but Jesus was not alone. Crucifixion was not an uncommon method of execution in Roman times. Allegedly, Jesus rose from the grave after thee days, making it so he didn't even give up his life. Afterward, he went to heaven. In the grand scheme of things, even the most immense torture for a finite period pales in comparison to infinite reward.

Now let's take our Mormon zealot. They believe with 100% certainty that they are going to hell. They are willing to take infinite punishment to defy god's will and save as many souls as possible.

Jesus never believed he was going to hell. He didn't even believe he was going to stay dead. Who, in this case, is willing to sacrifice more? If mormon theology was true, could you condemn the zealot? Who would be more deserving of the title "Messiah?"

Part VIII: Conclusion

There's even more symbolism to talk about in A Clockwork Orange, and even a case to be made for Alex as a warped Christ figure (which Foster makes in his book). It will have to wait for another time.

A Clockwork Orange, in it's most mainstream interpretations, is about the value of free will. A reader is supposed to be horrified by the crimes Alex commits and subsequently even more horrified at the loss of his free will. I'd like to remind the christians that if free will is real and it is so important, you are not meaningfully using it. They've castrated themselves, letting their own judgment atrophy, all to adopt the appearance of good. At some point, you will have to use your own brain to figure out what what is right and wrong. As we've learned today, religion cannot teach ethics. It can only teach compliance.

Now I'm not in the business of playing hide the ball. I'll tell you what I think. There is no objective morality. Subjectively, I measure morality by utilitarian standards. Theoretically, the reason you do something doesn't change its moral impact on the world. But that's just my opinion.

#ethics #morals #Christianity #catholisism #mormonism #clockwork orange #a clockwork orange #anthony burgess #stanley kubrick #free will #huckleberry finn #the adventures of huckleberry finn #philosophy #choices #atheism #religion #books #literature #dark literature

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ask-thsc-blog · 8 months

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Burt looked down, and oh fuck this was hot

Sven looked back at him, moaning his name, he was a total mess, looking also really cute with that blue maid dress and the collar, his yellow cat ears down and glazzy eyes filled with love and desire

And all that precum slattering everywhere...got it was driving Burt nuts!

#nsft

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mensusaonlinestore1 · 1 year

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LOOKING FOR BEST YOGA OUTFITS FOR WOMEN? KDW APPAREL IS HERE TO HELP YOU

Welcome to kdw apparel!

It is the company based in LA, which provides apparel, outfit for yoga, sports and physical fitness exercise for women.

Most importantly this company also started by women and employed only by women.

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If you are looking something like above I believe kdw apparel would be your destination.

We do sell medical gowns which just costs $20.99 available in white and light blue sizes L/XL and S/M which could be Machine Wash Cold, Turn inside out, Permanent Press Cycle in Warm Water, Dry Low Heat.

The Psychedelic pattern fits like second skin and it feels like you're naked without the social embarrassment. And now they are high waisted! Psychedelic Pilates Long gives the illusion of a much slimmer body and when worn be ready to be the envy of your class. It is made with both polyester and spandex and available in cold water wash only and hangs dry. This is made with love in downtown los angels.

Kdw apparel does have much kind of not only Silver Liquid Leggings but also made other kind of leggings based on color, sizes, materials etc and so on. Mostly they are cost somewhere around $100. It meets highest fashion. These beautiful vibrant leggings are functional, breathable and feel so good they literally make you want to touch yourself. These Brazilian leggings have a durable 4-Way Stretch Print with fine and smooth texture and the inner black insert provides a slimming effect on the thighs.

Just pay $75 and get colorful casual athletic wear i.e. Optic Times Square which is just Practicing the Hanging back on the Cadillac or powering through a class? Times Square pattern fits like second skin; it feels like you're naked without the social awkwardness. Any plain color tee will bring out and accentuate the colors to this pattern and make them pop, adding spice to your workout wear.

Silver liquid is another fallen feathers legging just costs $88 and it is a definite ultimate luxury performance piece. Whether you're in Pilates, Yoga, hitting weights or out for the night and want to look like a million bucks. A glossy liquid finish adds style and versatility for a sleek look those transitions from the studio to the street. The high rise and wide waistband keeps things in place while doing any activity while technical, supportive fabric creates a flattering fit which looks amazing on all body types. If you want a sleek streamlined leather look while working out or a night out these are the go to leggings.

Not only apparel, kdw apparel does sell variety types of masks, hand sanitizers etc and so on.

Just visit the portal; all of our products are listed with -

~prices

~Materials (along with percentage with polyester, cotton) and their percentage available in that apparel

~Washing, cleaning and dye instructions

~Daily offers along with coupon codes.

~Shipping charges above $150 is free of cost.

If you are having any questions regarding our products or services just ask us directly – through phone or email or both or through anyone. You can call us at +1 323-528-9644 or email us at [email protected]

Follow our social media channel to get more updates regarding the products or services provided by us.

This article is written by kdw apparel, which is a company run by women, managed by women and sell apparel only for women in Los angles

#Silver Liquid Leggings Casual athletic wear Fallen Feathers Leggings

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