Put a condom on before sexual contact with your partner.
Roll the condom onto erect penis.
Make sure the condom is on right side out.
Leave half an inch of the condom at the tip of the penis to hold
the semen.
Use a water-based lubricant.
Withdraw the penis directly after ejaculation, while the penis
is still hard.
Hold the base of the condom as you pull it out.
If the condom breaks, panic and swear repeatedly, blame your
partner and vow never to have sex again. Then call or visit a
clinic or doctor immediately.
Everyone knows the condom is the only contraceptive effective in
the prevention of both pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases.
But in a veritable sea of latex, what do UCLA students choose to
staunch the sticky flow of fertility and disease?
When questioned about condom choice, many students first
expressed their preference for condom avoidance. Fourth-year
political science student Kristen Morrison avoids condoms because
they “get in the way” during sex. “We’re
monogamous,” she added. Morrison uses birth control pills
instead.
Third-year cognitive science student Jonah Smith also declines
donning the latex dam.
“My girlfriend uses birth control,” Smith said. His
reasoning is different from Morrison’s, however. Smith and
his girlfriend chose birth control because it is “generally
more effective. Well, not with STDs, but I’m not worried
about STDs. My partners and I always have tests done.”
But their distaste for condoms hasn’t prevented Morrison
or Smith from discovering new and creative uses for the
prophylactics. Morrison has blown a condom up like a balloon. She
has also been known to use one as a finger bandage.
“I had to get the really small ones,” she said.
Smith has participated in a condom fight with a friend.
“We snapped them at each other,” he stated.
When they do buy condoms, Morrison and Smith both purchase
Trojans.
“It’s a good name,” Morrison said. “If I
have to buy one I’ll get (Trojans). I’m not going to
buy, like, Thrifty-brand condoms.”
“That’s the only one that you know for sure will
work,” Smith agreed.
Marques Wayne, a retail clerk at Zone d’Amour in Westwood,
is also reluctantly sleeping with the enemy.
“I hate condoms,” Wayne stated. “Bareback just
rules. I always just go Trojans though, ’cause they’re
distributed the most.” Wayne went on to express his distaste
for Lifestyles condoms. “They’ve broken on me on
several occasions at key moments.”
Students place their faith in established brands, but their
flesh doesn’t always follow.
“Among kids running in last-minute, desperate, it’s
whatever’s cheapest, and they usually buy singles, which I
think is bad planning. With the ones who plan ahead, it’s
name brand,” Wayne said.
Wayne was also asked to comment on differences in the condoms
males buy as opposed to those females buy. He hasn’t noticed
any, but says “there’s a difference in the way they buy
them. Guys come in in gangs. Guys are shadier.” According to
Wayne, men also tend to purchase special feature condoms
“because they’re in a hurry, whereas girls get those as
jokes.”
Zone d’ Amour, whose name is fickle as a wayward lover,
offers a dizzying array of condoms, including ribbed and studded,
tri-color (with reservoir tip), glow-in-the-dark, and flavors
ranging from banana to cola. But do so many prospects cause Bruin
hearts to flutter, mouths to water, seldom mentioned muscles to
contract?
“The simpler the better,” Morrison said.
According to Smith, “There isn’t really a
point.”
But when asked to describe the ultimate condom, users’
pragmatism blends with imagination.
Morrison’s ideal condom would be “invisible, and you
couldn’t feel it.” She added, “Glitter ones would
be fun. Glow-in-the-dark with glitter.”
Smith’s perfect condom would feel as if it wasn’t
there at all.
Wayne’s ultimate condom “never breaks” and
delivers “maximum sensation.” Also, “for men
who’ve been circumcised, it recreates the sensation of the
skin that used to be there.”
This article is now spent, and will withdraw immediately.
Remember to grip it from the base.