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Condoms vs. The Pill: He hates condoms, she hates the pill. Who should give in?



Dear Sexorcist:

Condoms sometimes make my boyfriend go limp the second he puts them on, so he’s insisting I go on the pill. I’m like, no way. Why should I take something that’s going to fuck up my hormones, make me gain weight and possibly put me at risk for cancer just because he can’t get used to a little rubber? He’s pissed off that we’re not having much sex and I’m resentful that all of the burden falls on me. On top of that, he thinks he’s being fair and balanced. How do we settle this?

— Stumped in Stockdale

Dear Stumped:

He thinks he’s being fair and balanced? I’m more balanced at 2 a.m. after last call. Your boyfriend’s being a prick. He needs to put a condom over himself and go limp.

I agree with him on one point, though: Nothing gives your dick a flat tire faster than a condom. But he’s acting as if he can’t do anything about it. Not true. If you guys try my Condom Immersion Program, his fear of going limp will shrivel up.

Here’s how it works: Together, buy a bucket of condoms and spend 20 minutes opening them up, stretching them to the breaking point, putting them on, taking them off, and doing stupid shit like playing tug-of-war, filling ’em with water, putting ’em over your hands and feet and making balloon animals out of them.

After a few days of this systematic desensitization, neither the medical texture nor the Goat Death aroma will stop your boyfriend’s cucumber from rising out of the salad. He’ll also become expert at opening them quickly (another boner buster: fumbling with the damn things). Condom immersion works by “extinguishing” the power of condoms to provoke anxieties, leaving you with one less plot to dig in the boner graveyard.

Still, sex with condoms sucks. It’s like eating a muffin from Highland Bakery through a paper napkin. Why a committed, monogamous couple would want to do the bomp-chicka-wow-wow with those dreadful things is beyond me. Which brings us to you.

If Godzilla’s breathing fire on the condoms, King Kong, you’re throwing feces against the cage. Yes, a lot of women gain weight (and go ape-shit) on the pill, but a lot don’t. Quit swinging from vine to vine and be willing to test some of the options. (There are “combination” pills, extended-cycle pills, continuous use pills, low-dosage mini-pills, etc.)

You might also look into the natural planning method. By tracking the signs, symptoms and changes of your ovulation cycle, you can pinpoint with amazing accuracy the days when you’re most likely to get pregnant.

One tactic involves checking the consistency of your cervical mucus, which changes to a stretchy, clear and thick consistency during ovulation — like uncooked egg whites.

Brunch anyone?

While studies show natural planning is 98 percent effective, it’s an unbelievably detailed, excruciating process requiring the kind of commitment OCD sufferers make when they check the oven.

You guys need to haul yourselves over to a dedicated family planning clinic like Planned Parenthood in downtown Atlanta, Marietta or Lilburn and they’ll go over all your options. If you’re too shy to go there just yet, find out which birth control method fits your lifestyle through their kick-ass online interactive tool.

But the best reason to go there is to facilitate a truce and bang out a compromise. For example, maybe you switch-hit on the condoms. Sometimes he slips them on; sometimes you slip them in (the female condom, that is).

When you’re in this kind of titanic power struggle, how you decide is just as important as what you decide. You need to quit swinging from vine to vine and Godzilla needs to make a peace offering. (I vote bananas.) Decide together, share the burden and you’ll get back to the basics of transcendent sex: reciprocity and generosity.

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Midtown resident Mike Alvear hosts HBO's "The Sex Inspectors," blogs at, and teaches monthly blogging workshops with Hollis Gillespie. He's also the principal passenger on the Grey Goose Express. Meet the Sexorcist in person Friday, Nov. 20, at Halo for the Creative Loafing Very Sexy Pre-Holiday Party.

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