It’s none of my business if somebody does drugs on their own time in their own space. However, when they smoke pot so thickly it comes into my apartment, as it did tonight, I get mean. I had work to do, but I went for a walk and then drove around killing time. I really didn’t want to set up camp in my car, but I considered the prospect of getting arrested for vagrancy and missing more deadlines more appealing than returning to the creepy aroma. Law enforcement won’t do anything about somebody’s personal use and pleasure burning my eyes, smelling really creepy, and frightening me at the prospect of losing the two brain cells I have left. I can’t make First Amendment entreaties if it is against my faith to huff the stuff. Freedom of religion has been perverted to be but a blank check for anything on the liberal agenda. There is no “right” to breathe,” no “right” to short-term memory; but there is a government-created “right” for me to get free methadone if I suffer permanently altered brain chemistry as a result of second-hand gateway inhalations.