Last night, I went through my bedroom chest drawers and dumped every condom I could find in the trash. I had not screwed in a long time so I got lazy and failed to stick to my timetable to check expiration dates.

I wish I could say what triggered the frantic inspection of condoms but I believe most will figure it out. Needless to say, I freaked out when the first batch I checked had all expired. I did not bother checking the rest. They all belonged in the trash.

As a premise, condoms are just ridiculous. The fact that we have to roll a squeaky lambskin sheath over an upright leaky hose while maintaining the same level of titillation is a feat in itself.

Condoms smell weird and you have to break to rip the packaging and hustle your desperate, throbbing leaky hose into a smelly piece of rubber.

Putting on a condom is like eating a piece of candy without taking off the plastic wrapping.

If you’re a man, you’ve probably experienced this conundrum. You’re both in the mood, everything is going according to plan, the foreplay is going great, and the stage is set for a mind-blowing and earth-shattering lovemaking.

Your leaky hose is strong and powerful enough to punch through a wall. Then, that moment comes and she looks at you with those sweet hungry eyes and with a firm voice, she says, “we need a condom.”

This very moment is usually when my stupidity meter cranks up to an obscene level. My genitals at this time do not understand logic and I begin to ask stupid questions.

Where the hell are the condoms?”

“Why the heck didn’t I hide them under the pillow for easy access?

It gets worse if I have to get out of bed and desperately rummage through my drawers. Getting out of bed to look for condoms is like stepping out into the cold with your leaky hose.

I mainly hate condoms because that unholy break can dampen the spirits of my leaky hose, soften it up a bit and ruin the easy transition into the tunnel.

One minute, we are passionately working each others’ body out. The next, I’m in a frantic race to put the condom on. It can feel like an abrupt transition from pleasure to a rather tense moment and I freaking hate that.

Okay, now that we’ve accepted that condoms are rubbish, let’s put that behind us. I hate condoms but I have to wear one anyway. No matter how annoying and killjoy condoms are, they save lives.

The annoying pause and all the drama which comes with it is worth it. Condoms prevent hideous diseases, unwanted pregnancies, they offer you peace of mind and they are guardians of your wallet.

Running to the pharmacy to buy morning-after pills at 2 am in the morning is incredibly annoying. Having to wait to see if her next period will arrive as scheduled is damn right scary. I am obviously talking from experience.

I’ve had my share of condom scares. One time, I went to visit a lady for the weekend and when the moment came, I discovered that I hadn’t packed the boxes of condoms I’d bought the night before. Luckily, I checked my wallet and there was one condom stuck in there.

We started screwing and while we were going at it, I felt something tickle my jugglers. The sex also started feeling remarkably good.

As I pulled out to check, I discovered that the condom had literally disintegrated. The condom I used was a giveaway from a planned parenthood rally I attended years ago. It had expired and I was too frisky to check it’s durability when I rolled it on.

The sex was ruined so we spent the rest of the night trying to figure out exactly when the condom could have broken. This moment had all the hallmarks of an abrupt descent from pleasure to torture.

I recently went back to getting my partner to help me put on a condom. I stopped doing so after a woman’s long nails punctured a hole in a condom while we were together. We did not discover the hole until we both felt some leakage coming out from what was supposed to be an airtight compartment.

Nevertheless, I find that involving your partner in the condom rolling ceremony actually allows one to be patient and it does not feel like a pause since the touching never stops.

The moral of this rant is, check the expiration date of your condoms often, use a condom if you’e not ready for babies and unsure of each other’s sexual health status and finally, be patient and don’t rush in.

The sad thing is, I’m not following my advice but don’t be a mess like me. You don’t want to be the one asking; my condom broke. Now what?

It’s a wrap!