Robert Stacy McCain puts a lot of pathology on display here:
Plan B — the drug that allows guys to breathe a sigh of relief the morning after using some chick for selfish pleasure — will now be available to 17-year-olds without a prescription.
Who cares that she’s not even old enough to buy a pack of cigarettes legally? Get her drunk on wine coolers, get what you want, then the next morning, take her to CVS to get Plan B and make sure there’s no chance the slut will show up in a few months talking child support payments and DNA tests.
So guys, if you screw a 17-year-old and “forget” to use a condom, remember: Nothing says “thanks a lot, you cheap whore” like the gift of Plan B!
Suppose a 17-year-old (of legal age and ability to consent to sex, mind you) has sex with, say, her 17-year-old boyfriend – shocking! – and seeks out Plan B after a condom mishap or a forgotten birth control pill. She’s no longer a woman seeking to avoid a pregnancy, she’s a cheap drunk slut running to the pharmacy while her significant other is laughing at her stupid bitch face.
While I’m never one to say inflammatory things, it seems that part of the reason that some women get abortions (which Plan B is not, mind you) is because of the overwhelming and disproportionate social shaming that comes with getting pregnant the “wrong” way. Women as baby-carriers must be virtuous, pure; to interfere with that image is to abandon their responsibility of stopping Raging Penis Monsters from getting in their panties. It turns a biological state into an ethical duty in the worst manner possible, either making a woman a bitch who ain’t shit but a ho and/or trick, or into a shining Republican Christian beacon of responsible fertility and excellence in leadership, potentially up for Regional Vagina Manager of the Year.
Which is to say more directly that Robert Stacy McCain is the greatest scourge to embryos since Chernobyl. Sorry, dude. Enjoy all that Arbor Mist you’ve been stocking up on.