The Dealer Always Rings Twice

I love this story, from the AP, about a milkman who left weed on doorsteps, along with his daily dairy deliveries.

How quaint, the thought of dawn in the British countryside, sheep and roosters waking and starting to talk, the narrow, grassy lanes shrouded in mist. The dog barks at a noise on the stone steps leading into the garden, and you open the door to find fresh milk from the cows down the road, and a dime bag of marijuana from, well, wherever they grow weed in England. Could be anywhere, it’s so verdant there.

Poor milkman. He was just trying to rid his customers of the aches and pains of aging, which he probably understands well, being in his 70s and still working manual labor....

Really? Nothing better to do in Northwest England than chase down an elderly milkman who’s making a little extra change and helping people feel better?

I’m disappointed in you, England. I had higher hopes for such a civilized nation.