There’s Something Galactically Wrong with this Penis Cap

The best part of owning a blog that people actually read is the product reviews, and by that I really mean the opportunity to have awesome free stuff arrive in the mail for me to try out. To date, I’ve received free electronic thermometers that look like vibrators, free smartwatches that were disappointingly NOT made by Apple, free African-American skin care products (which I dutifully shared with my best gay black male friend), free camping gear (because apparently I strike them as someone who’s going to be homeless any day now), free food (no wait, kale isn’t actually a food any more than water boarding is a personal hygiene method), free clothes/shoes/thong panties/togas, and more.

But nothing… NOTHING… will ever top the free contraceptive I received last month.

First of all, an important public service announcement: Dad, it is vital that you stop reading now. I’m about to describe having to take one for the team and have sex for a third time (since the first two times resulted in the birth of your grandkids, within wedlock, I feel like I should add), and I’m not sure your blood pressure medications are rated for this kind of blog post. Besides, you know you only read my blog so you can correct my shitty grammar, so we’ll both be better off if you skip this one. You were warned.

Yes, the Galactic Cap arrived at my house in packaging that made it frighteningly clear that it neither protects against STDs nor keeps you from getting pregnant. It’s important to note that at least one of those is actually the life goal for the product, but that they can’t state it to be factual until they reach the FDA-approval stage. Lucky me, I’m not likely to catch any germies from my chosen choice of partner, and pregnancy isn’t something that anyone wants but wouldn’t be the end of the world if it happened. That made us the ideal couple to review this new product.

I strongly urge you to click this link and watch the Galactic Cap video for yourself. I know it’s a great video because we had to watch it several times to figure out how to use it. Two of those times, we were actually naked and in the bedroom, holding the open package and pointing the thing at someone’s nether regions (his, not mine).

So what makes the Galactic Cap so innovative?


Yes, this brand-new take on the millenia-old condom design no longer requires putting on the proverbial raincoat. Instead, you peel off the paper backing and stick this thing directly to your penis (if you have one…if you don’t have one, you stand there calling out the directions). The…ahem, matter…is directed straight into a reservoir between the two layers of film, meaning there’s only a barrier touching part of your schlong instead of the whole thing. It’s all quite amazing, if you can get past the fact that you’re about to wax your penis when you’re finished.

We did the deed in the name of science (I told you to go away, Dad), and my husband had a pleasantly amused smile on his face until he asked me how to remove it. The directions were oddly lacking, since basic common sense was supposed to come into play.

“You just…peel it,” I said, gesturing in the general vicinity.


“Peel it off.”


“You have to remove it…probably before everything returns to its standard size and shape.”


“NOW! Peel it off!”

Yes, my husband had experienced hysterical deafness, just like when you go blind from seeing something upsetting. He could no longer hear anything but the sound of his own screaming once he began the removal process. I took some video of it, just for fun. I also showed it to a friend of mine who didn’t believe that all of this was really real.

Now, I’m going to give you a few moments to let your eyesight return to normal. While you count the floaters exploding inside your eyeballs, let me tell you that I missed one really crucial term when I agreed to test and review this product:


Yes, it’s a prototype. It’s actually the second generation model, or DickStickUm2.0, as I like to call it. So, basically, this product isn’t really a product yet, and I’m not actually supposed to be reviewing it. I’m supposed to be providing critical feedback on this bandaid that we just purposely stuck to my overeager husband’s junk with weapons-grade adhesive.

The followup survey was very interesting, to say the least. That’s where I learned a vital piece of information that I’ve decided never to share with my husband: 46% of the users reported that the adhesive was too strong and caused pain during removal.


It took me some time to figure out how to write this review, especially after talking to the very lovely inventor. The last thing I wanted to do was to besmirch the Galatic Cap’s good name, since at this point that’s really all it has going for it. He and I discussed the possibility of including a moist towelette filled with baby oil to aid in removal, or at the very least a coupon for some WD-40. Medical interventions are currently being considered.

So why would I write a product review that warns people AWAY from the Galactic Cap? Because at this stage in the game, more human trials are needed in order to a) prove that human beings tried it and b) make sure no one else gets hurt by an early prototype. I’m proud to say that not only am I not pregnant after using it, but I won’t be pregnant for a long time to come thanks to my husband’s unwillingness to get naked around me. (I’ve already signed us up for the 3.0 model.) So keep watching the Galactic Cap’s really awesome website and Twitter account, and sign up to give it the old college try in the name of science.