Well-traveled rubbers!

When you think of things that aren’t vegan, your mind may drift to your room-mates wedge of vomit-smelling parmigiano reggiano hibernating in that small compartment in the door of your fridge. Yuck. What you probably don’t think of are the condoms stashed next to your bed. Unfortunately, many latex condoms do contain the milk protein casein, so if you want to avoid bumpin’ your bits against some animal byproducts, you should look for vegan condoms.

If you asked me my vegan condom of choice, I would eagerly tell you that I like Sir Richard’s Condoms. In fact, even if you DON’T ask me, I will overshare and tell you anyway, perhaps embarrassing you in a public setting like on the subway or at brunch. Sir Richard makes the best condoms. Let me write a love letter to them about all the ways I adore them.

Condom confetti! Like a party for your dick!

Dear Sir Richard,
Thank you for making cruelty-free, casein-free condoms. I love you because of your inaugural donation of 500,000 condoms to Haiti, preventing diseases and promoting safe boning globally. And similar to that intelligent Tom of Tom’s Shoes, whenever someone buys a Sir Richard’s condom, you donate one to a developing country. When I wrap up my manfriend’s manfriend in your animal-free loveglove, I feel like I am helping someone in a far off country catch a hot swampy load, and this makes me feel both worldly and noble, like I’m doing community service without leaving my bedroom. Also, you impress me with the fact that you not only donate condoms, but design specific culturally relevant brands with the help of local artists and health-care providers, so that gorgeous Haitian goddess isn’t worried about the weird logo on her condom package and can follow the directions to apply it to her boyfriend’s junk correctly and with ease. Also, the name of your company makes me think of King Arthur, which makes me nostalgic for my childhood, which clearly is how you WANT to feel when blowing in the reservoir tip of a condom to make sure it will catch all those spermies before they parade up your cervix and impregnate you.

Thank you for your fun designs; I particularly like your bright, plaid wrappers. So does my cat, who finds them under my bed and bats them around before bringing them to me like a dog three days after the deed has been done. I am a big fan of your Ultra Thin variety, and your Pleasure Dots, which—again reminiscent of my childhood—remind me of those colorful dots that taste like sugary sawdust yet were fun to eat off the paper. And thank you for selling your condoms in a variety pack so I can decide which ones I like before buying an entire box—I have commitment issues.

Most importantly, thank you for allowing me to come for a cause.
Love and cruelty-free snuggles,
Z

That’s enough weirdness for today! I’m gonna go put some spinach in my blender now.

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No, I am not talking about that fugly paisley button-up your girlfriend bought you for Christmas.

Lying to avoid condoms is as classy as smoking while 6 (okay, 3 1/2) inches deep

Sex was always a topic open to discussion in my family, and so I don’t remember one specific “sex-talk” being delivered. However, I do remember the first actual sex advice my father gave me, which was the “don’t-let-a-guy-talk-you-out-of-condoms” discussion. My father warned me that men might use the excuse “if you love me, you won’t make me wear one.”

I remember being a bit confused by this, because at the time I was with my first “real” boyfriend (I was 16) who was so nervous about contraception that we used not one, not two but THREE different methods. My ladybits were baby-batter proof. We called condoms “weapons of mass destruction.”  It was great way to talk about buying condoms in front of our friends or on the phone. “Make sure to bring over some weapons,” or “Go to the gas station and get some artillery. Also some Flipz. I’m hungry.”

I found my father’s warning to be out-dated and extraneous. In my relationship, it was more “If you love me, you will be on birth control, and let me wear a condom, and let me pull out, and also allow me to ask you if you are pregnant every time you have a headache.”  In this specific case, I had been tested, and my boyfriend was a virgin, so we weren’t worried about STDs, which are of course another reason to layer on the latex.

From my own post-highschool speculation, and information gathered from friends and random women in the gym locker room, I have come to the conclusion that men being more adverse to condoms than women is a myth.  Aside from one story a college roomie told me about a guy trying to distract her while removing the condom mid-hump, I have found men usually agree to wearing a condom, and in fact most of them insist on it. Herpes is not hot.

If a man were to say, “if you love me, you won’t make me wear one,” a good response might be “if you don’t want to spend the next 18 years paying child support, you will wear one.” Or of course, “Oh sure we can skip the condom. You love me so much, you don’t mind a little HPV, right? Chlamydia only burns once in a while…”

While I believe the idea that men will do anything to wiggle out of rubbers is a myth, I don’t think the idea that PEOPLE avoid condoms is untrue. I think BOTH sexes equally abhor condoms, even though they know they are necessary. Sort of like exercise. And dental floss.

Condoms blow, regardless of your sex. They ruin the moment, they smell like a doctor’s office, they dull sensation for men and make women feel like they’re boning the rubber-man. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Also, they’re expensive! But you know what is more expensive? Baby formula. Get over it.

Condom companies are always trying to invent ways to trick consumers into thinking condoms enhance the sexual experience. “Ribbed!” “Warming!” “Menthol!” “FOR HER.” “Will Brainwash Your Man Into Buying You Jewelry.”  Oh wait, that last one was just a headline from Cosmopolitan.  These claims are all lies, and I know just as many women as men who say they would rather do anything—ANYTHING—than wear a condom. So what are the alternatives?

Pulling out is not a particularly fool-proof or intelligent method, but neither is claiming you’re racist to get out of jury duty or chugging cranberry juice to pass a drug-test, and people still do that too.

I personally don’t do oral contraceptives because they aren’t vegan, block your absorption of b12 and pump your body full of weird hormones. I was on birth control for a decade and it actually slowed my sex drive which is sort of counterproductive. In the first few months I went off it, I felt like a 13 year old again! All I wanted to do was dry hump someone’s leg in a basement while watching Big Daddy.   

I don’t trust that weird spermicidal stuff you squirt up in you, and have zero experience with female condoms or diaphragms. Do people under the age of 50 still use diaphragms? Tell me how you feel about condoms.  Found any condoms that make sex MORE fun? A good story about the time you tried to talk your way out of condoms?

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The best thing about being known throughout your circle of loved ones as—at best—sexually inquisitive and—at worst—a complete raging pervert is that you get bombarded with emails, texts, FB wall posts and even Tweets on the regular with links to weird articles, interesting news, dirty jokes, and the like.

Some recent favs:

The following image was posted to my FB by my old college roomie:

My father sent me the following joke in honor of day light’s savings:

The Agony of Hearing Loss

After Daylight Savings Time ended I stopped in to visit my hearing impaired friend.

He was busy painting his penis with a black marker.

I said to him, “You idiot!  You’re supposed to turn your clock back!”

(November 6th this year – monitor your hearing impaired male friends.)

And my current room-mate, N, sent me the link to this post from mamashealth.com about an “anti-rape” condomesque device equipped with (shudder) teeth that can be inserted into a lady’s sex socket.  Mama’s Health writer Aunt B writes: Invented by South African doctor Dr. Sonnet Ehlers after treating a rape victim who said, “If only I had teeth down there,” the female condom dubbed “Rapex” is being readied for distribution after 20 years of research.

Rapex is a female condom featuring teeth-like prongs that will latch onto a man’s penis as soon as he inserts it, and the man will have to go to the hospital to have it removed, where he will be identified as a rapist; the Rapex is also designed to collect the man’s DNA. These condoms are currently being distributed in South Africa, which has one of the highest percentages of rape incidents in the world.

While this in theory sounds effective, it also means that a woman has to walk around all day (night) with a toothy glove up her snatch. That doesn’t sound very comfortable, although I suppose it is more comfortable than being raped. On the other hand, it could help prevent date rape scenarios if a woman inserts it as a precaution before going out with someone she doesn’t know very well. Dinner reservations? Check. Friend on speed dial for a faux emergency phone call? Check. Pepper spray? Check. Vagina Orthodontia? Check check!

This could even be used as a precaution if you AREN’T wearing a Rapex. If an attacker comes at you, you can shout “Better think twice, Buster! There is a device in my vajay that will peel the skin off your dick like a sweaty tube sock!” Who the hell would venture on in to find out if you are lying?

Thoughts and comments, everyone? Watch the video.

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In college I lived with a bunch of girls. I mean, I went through a ton of room mates, often living with up to six other (yes six!) crazy females at a time. Once there were six of us plus another unofficial roommate who lived on our couch and kept all of her clothes shoved in one of the drawers of our entertainment unit. I was also always changing roommates, because they were always doing terrible things. One had a boyfriend who used to urinate in my belongings (IE my Nestles chocolate milk container—pre-vegan days—and my re-usable water bottles). Another used to steal all of my things (clothes, perfume, sex toys..). Another slept with a guy I’d been dating who had just recently masticated my heart into a bloody sludgy puddle that sort of resembled the nice glass of beet juice I just had with my lunch.

Anyways, throughout my college career I probably lived with about 20 different girls. And for some reason, they all used to come to me to dish up on their sex lives. ALL of them. Even then ones who didn’t much like me. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I wrote our college sex column or the Good Bush, Bad Bush T-shirt I strutted around in—pantsless of course.

To get to my point, I had this one (really really) stupid roomie who was contraceptionally challenged. I mean, girl couldn’t have safe sex to save her life. We were constantly having incredibly frustrating conversations about her stupidity. Here is an example of one of such conversations. I am going to call her Slutface Sally. (That’s mean! She was really cute. The stupid ones usually are..)

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