If you are the kind of person who has sex that could result in (shudder) children, take note: As of January 1 this year, you are now able to buy a year's supply of birth control at once. This comes thanks to state Legislature, which passed a bill last spring mandating that any health insurance plan that includes birth control must allow patients to get a 12-month supply, unless the patient requests less. And, to make it even easier to not have children (and there about 7.6 billion reasons not to), you'll also be able to get your BC on-site at your doctor or health care provider's office.

Now, back to why you shouldn't have children. Allow me to quote myself, from possibly the second most-hated thing I've ever written, from the minor environmential blog Grist dot org:

I doubt you need reminding that parts of the planet are running out of water, other parts are flooding, and government leaders are sitting on their well-padded asses doing nothing about it. Is this really a world you want to bring children into? As Canadian hero Naomi Klein wrote in This Changes Everything, “There is a very high chance that our children will spend a great deal of their lives fleeing and recovering from vicious storms and extreme droughts.” Reproducing when climate apocalypse looms seems selfish, misguided, and, even worse, cruel. It’s a dick move, breeders, especially considering the 7 billion other humans who would be vying for the same resources as your little punkin. None for me, thanks. [...]

Of course, there are consequences to not reproducing, and the one that concerns me most is what the hell is going to happen when I’m a grumpy old bitch with no kids to take care of me. As I see it, there is only one solution to this conundrum: I have to get rich. That way, I can hire someone to change my adult diapers when the time comes. The problem with this plan is that I’m actually getting less wealthy as I get older, and at the age of 31, the most valuable thing I own is a bus pass. The good news is, while my window to reproduce is swiftly closing, I’ve still got plenty of time to make a fortune and find a nice young nursing assistant to wipe my butt.

There’s also some bad news, however, and that’s this: I alone cannot save the world. If this planet it going to survive the scourge that is humanity, we all have to stop reproducing. Yes, all of us. In that spirit, I propose we lower barriers to adoption, make sure all the little nuggets out there get placed with a family, and sterilize every human male on his 10th birthday. This may seem extremist, but just indulge me for a moment. In this hypothetical future, you live your life as normal, but instead of giving birth, you adopt, saving yourself both baby weight and the nine months of sobriety. It will take a few generations for everyone to sign on, but for males, ritualistic vasectomy will take on the emotional heft of a bar mitzvah or a quinceanera, a rite of passage complete with lots of presents and a special Gaia-themed ice pack for the balls. We’ll tell children what an honor and privilege it is to forgo parenthood, and they’ll believe it because kids are dumb. After everyone’s good and sterile, we’ll spend a few decades preparing the earth for the end of people — tearing down dams, disposing of nuclear waste, correcting the myriad of bad decisions made since industrialization, etc. Sure, in a century or so there will be no humans left, but you’ll be dead by then anyway. Under my plan, you’ll still be dead but the planet will live on. Really, it’s the least we could do.

While matters of the planet have gotten even worse since I wrote this in 2015, strangely, there have been few converts to my voluntary human extinction movement. However, thanks to the new state rules on birth control, it's easier than ever to not get knocked up. So go forth, str8s, and stock up on those contraceptives before the Pence administration decides to take them all away.