Deep within Northwestern University Health Services’ cavernous Searle Hall lies a trove of sexy goodies: an all-you-can-eat buffet of FREE condoms. Given our Cheeto in Chief’s distaste for female reproductive rights, these free condoms could soon be the only reliable form of protection available to Northwestern students. We tested three of the brands offered at Searle – One, Trojan and Durex – using hyper-rigorous scientific methods to see if they could be the condom America needs in these trying times.
Any self-respecting condom must be, above all, durable. We asked our latex playthings a crucial question: are they more fragile than your boyfriend’s masculinity? To test this, we held the condoms up to your boyfriend and asked if he needed a smaller size. He fled. Then we stretched them over commonly available household items – gourds, lamps, roommates – to determine their breaking point. All three sex balloons tore just as they made it over the roommate’s calf.
Next, the baby catchers went through a series of rhythmic gymnastics exercises to test physical strength. They lifted more than your boyfriend (it was a tough afternoon at SPAC for him). The Trojan, despite being branded with a warrior’s helmet, was the weakest and tore at the base. The rubbers failed to perform anything close to a respectable somersault and flopped weakly onto the pole vault.
The next experiment tested the condoms much like the election tested America’s values. Do these love gloves respect your reproductive rights? To determine this, we showed them a series of photographs of women buying birth control and gauged their reaction from zero to Trump. The One had points deducted for its aggressive hot-pink coloring. The Trojan and Durex remained an impassive living room beige.
Prophylactics must also be convertible into homemade weapons in the event of civil war. We flung the rubbers at our enemies and measured the condoms’ success by how far our nemeses fled. The Trojan, which has ribs, was the most easily grippable and traveled an impressive six feet when slingshotted from a thumb. The strawberry flavored One, which smells more like a mouthful of disappointing cotton candy than anything close to a living berry, flopped on the ground miserably. Durex made it 2.5 feet and curled up into a ball, defeated.
There’s no clear winner of the Great Condom Olympics – all three candidates gave lackluster, uninspiring performances. Frankly, we’re disappointed you’re still thinking about sex while the world is burning.