There is no such thing as an extreme condom

Remember the Aerosmith song Livin’ on the Edge?

Well, living on the edge is for pussies.  The term “the edge” evokes the concept of a boundary, so the phrase suggests behavior that flirts with a legal or safety limit. 

Using this definition, examples of “living on the edge” would include paying one’s cell phone bill one day before service was disconnected, driving at the speed limit or falling asleep without brushing and flossing first. 

I do not live on the edge.  In fact, I absolutely obliterate the edge and refuse to acknowledge its existence. 

Every morning, I shave with a chainsaw and scratch my back with a mace.  I season my eggs with pepper spray.  While driving to work, I do not wear a seat belt.  In fact, my foot never touches the brake pedal.  Instead, I prefer to pull the emergency brake, resulting in a dramatic, spinning stop.

Some refer to people walking on the street as “pedestrians” or “little old ladies.”  I call them “bystanders,” and randomly punch them accordingly. 

When I get home at night, I do not use a letter opener to open my mail.  I use a sword.

I eat steak for dinner every single night.  I do not like my steak rare.  Rare meat is for pussies.  Instead, I chew on a live baby cow until the delicious beast dies on my kitchen floor.  I love veal.

After dinner, I enjoy an alcoholic beverage.  I do not drink beer or vodka.  Beer and vodka are for pussies.  I drink warm grain alcohol out of highball glasses. 

At the end of the night, if I cannot fall asleep, I repeatedly punch myself in the face until I am unconscious.

Aerosmith’s concept of “living on the edge” pales in comparison to my daily routine.

In fact, I fail to understand what the band means by “living on the edge.”  After all, lead singer Steven Tyler was 45 when the single was released.  Middle-aged men are not known for high-risk behavior.  Perhaps when he was writing the song, he envisioned himself skipping his annual prostate exam or eating too much ice cream despite the fact that he is lactose intolerant. 

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Livin’ on the Edge was released in 1993, coinciding with start of the country’s unhealthy and inexplicable obsession with the letter X and the concept of “extreme.” 

As the popularity of grunge music increased dramatically in the early 1990s, the mainstream media ceaselessly lamented the cultural impact of Generation X.  Eventually, marketers would embrace the seldom-used letter as a symbol for “extreme,” and by extension, “edgy” and “awesome.”

In 1995, ESPN introduced the “X Games,” an annual showcase of extreme, edgy and awesome action sports such as skateboarding, snowboarding and competitive genital kicking. 

The trend continued with junk-food brands repositioning themselves as “extreme.”  Mountain Dew lent its name to an extreme sports tour.  Slim Jim hired aging wrestler “Macho Man” Randy Savage as a shouting spokesperson.  Jack Links, a fellow distributor of dried meat, followed suit by inking Sasquatch to a lucrative, multi-year endorsement deal. 

The marketing message is simple: “Our competitor’s product is for suburban soccer moms.  Buy our product if you like rock and roll, BMX bikes and living on the edge!”

I find this marking approach to be hackneyed and devoid of creativity, yet it is clearly effective.  Marketers will continue to position their products as “extreme” and use seizure-inducing motion graphics, shouting spokespersons and multiple explanation points to seduce mindless consumers as long as the tactic produces results. 

Unfortunately, there are downsides to society’s fascination with the concept of “extreme,” such as the staggering popularity of unhealthy energy drinks or the existence of people like “The Situation” on Jersey Shore. 

A day will inevitably come when a professional shark puncher is hired by Procter & Gamble to shout about the latest innovation in extreme products, Crest Habanero Kick Extreme Toothpaste.

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Certain products simply should not be positioned as “extreme,” as it creates an awkward juxtaposition when the use of the product is considered.

One excellent example is condoms.  Condoms are not the least bit extreme.  In fact, if I were writing a thesaurus, I would include “condom” as an antonym to “extreme.”

Alas, Lifestyles decided to defy this logic entirely in marketing their “X2” condom. 

A large, metallic “X” graces the packaging, suggesting the inherent extreme awesomeness of the product within.  Abstract streaks of light appear in the background, evoking the trail of light left behind by a glow stick in a darkened discothèque as house music throbs in the background. 

This condom is not meant for the soccer mom, your college professor or your priest.  No, this is an extreme condom, designed specifically for the Red Bull chugging, BMX-bike riding, tattooed and pierced, rock and rolling, extremely awesome extreme consumer.  (Or as advertisers refer to it, “The coveted 18 to 25 demographic.”)

The packaging also touts the features and benefits of the extreme prophylactic.  Large text explains that the condom is “lubricated inside and out” to “intensify sensitivity and sensation.” 

(Technically, the name “X2” is meant to imply “times two,” noting that the condom is lubricated on both sides.  Regardless, I am certain that the marketers that selected the brand name had the X Games, Slim Jims, “Macho Man” Randy Savage, Mountain Dew, BMX bikes, Malcolm X, xylophones and the trend to position products as “extreme” in mind when making their decision.)

Having lubricant inside of a condom sounds like a bad idea.  First, it seems that this would increase the likelihood of the condom slipping off of one’s dick.  In addition, I fail to understand how extra lubricant results in increased “sensitivity and sensation.”  Lubricant reduces the amount of friction between to objects.  The purpose of sex is to create enough friction between the partners’ genitals to create a sensation that ultimately results in orgasms.

The additional lubricant seems like it would create a slippery mess, with the condom sliding back and forth on the penis reducing the chance that the male would feel his partner’s vagina or rectum or ear or belly button.

Furthermore, I find lubricant completely unnecessary.  I am blessed with a commanding sexual prowess which leads to the instant arousal of my partner.  boqueen and I never need lubricant, as her naughty bits get juicy on my command.

Smaller text on the box redundantly mentions the ExciteGel Lubricant, again noting its benefits to “sensitivity and sensation.” Two bullet points note that the condoms are made from “premium latex” and include a natural supplement known as “L-Arginine.”

I find it curious that LifeStyles notes the “premium latex” of the X2 condom.  I question whether Lifestyles’ other condoms also contain premium-grade latex, or if they are manufactured from recycled doctors’ gloves.

Also, while I do not know what “L-Arginine” is, I do not feel that it is necessary to have natural supplements on a condom.  I prefer to take my supplements the old-fashioned way, such as in vitamins or anabolic steroids.  Besides, my penis is in pristine shape – it is truly a breathtaking organ to behold.  I do not feel that it requires any supplements, as it has already reached perfection. 

The phrase “individually tested for maximum protection” appears along the bottom of the packaging.  While I am sure that the testing process involves sanitary machinery that ensures all condoms meet Lifestyles’ metrics for durability, an “individually tested” condom inspires disgusting imagery. 

I envision an overweight man in a humid Mexican sweatshop strapping on each condom as it rolls by on a conveyor belt, and then briefly fornicating with a warm piece of boneless skinless chicken breast to ensure the condom does not break.  He is a rather sweaty man and his body odor disturbs his coworkers.  He also forgets to use hand sanitizer from time to time, but he is a union employee, so his job is safe. 

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I believe that condoms are one of the worst inventions in the history of mankind.  They take a great deal of pleasure out of sex, the single most enjoyable activity conceivable.  Having sex with a condom is much like eating a delicious meal while having a cold or watching porno with a blindfold on.  Sure, these activities would be mildly enjoyable, but you would be missing the complete experience. 

Instead of having sex with a condom, I would rather masturbate while wearing an oven mitt. 

Fortunately, I do not use condoms.  Condoms are for people who merely live on the edge, choosing to color inside the lines.  I am not that type of person.

I am not suggesting that my readers should not use condoms.  They are a great way to prevent from contracting AIDS, swine flu, cooties, cancer or a god damned unwanted baby. 

I am blessed to be in a committed, long-term relationship with boqueen.  We can fornicate with reckless abandon because of her daily diet of “baby-killers,” commonly known as “birth control pills.”  We also intend to produce one or more mulatto offspring at some point.  If that day comes sooner that we plan, I will either push her down the stairs or marry her.  I am leaning towards that latter.

In the meantime, please pray that we do not inadvertently conceive a child.  My father is kind of a dick.  I am a total douchebag.  This trend would indicate that “bokeen: the squeakquel” will grow up to be the Antichrist.

I promise that he will be the “extreme” Antichrist, sponsored by Mountain Dew. 

one response to 'There is no such thing as an extreme condom'

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1. bokeen: the squeakquel scares the shit out of me.

   Carter

   01.03.10 11:16 PM

    

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