I’m asthmatic and occasionally use an inhaler. If you told me during one of my non-breathing episodes that I had to ask permission to get my inhaler, I would put my foot so far up your ass I’d be able to tie my shoelaces through your eye sockets — provided, of course, that I lived through the asthma attack. All this to say: The so-called “War On Drugs” is colliding with bureaucratic stupidity in ways that are pissing me off today. (And if you think I’m pissed, read this piece; I love this writer’s well-placed fury.)