And can I just say that the ritual humiliation of obtaining Sudafed from a drugstore sets every liberty-loving fibre of my patriotic American soul quivering for Revolution? I mean, sure, that would mean even more if I weren’t already reflexively against our nation’s drug laws. But still. Since I bought the stuff three weeks, ago, they’ve introduced another new wrinkle: now you have to go to the pharmacy counter to show your ID and sign for your frigging decongestant. Next time I get a cold, I fully expect a cavity search and several hours in the interrogation room with Vincent D’onofrio getting all crazy and refusing to let me go to the bathroom.
But it’s a full-employment act for Mexican meth labs. And guess who was behind it!