THOOMP THOOMP THOOMP

At 11:34 at night when you have a splitting headache and a major take-home test for Religion 150 due at the stroke of midnight, please remember the following:
The proper medication for a headache is typically some generic analgesic. These include aspirin, NSAIDs like ibuprofen, or acetaminophen.
Notice that the list does not include Putting Your Headphones At Full Volume To Drive The Demons Out.
This method does not work. I repeat, this method does not work, especially when your headphones are capable of going to eleven.
This especially does not work when you pick a single song and declare For The Next Three Hours I Shall Listen Exclusively To Remixes Of This Theme.
However, since I know you are all sciency types who prefer to obtain empirical evidence by yourself, the next time you have a headache....

DON'T DO THIS

OR THIS

(P.S. Earlier today, as I caught the bus back home, my gazing into the depths of my immortal soul out the window was interrupted by half a dozen new passengers boarding. The minute they got on I could tell they were special. For a start, they were all a few years older than me. Three girls, three boys, gorgeously rugged yet fashionable all of them. No two seats were empty next to each other so they claimed various side outlets and formed a rough U shape. One of the girls took residence up next to me and plugged herself into her iPod. I observed her via reflection of the window.* The boys took out folded newspapers and began to read.
Then one of them shouted to the other, total wild excitement and disregard for Bus Propriety of Noise Regulations. It was so pretty I blinked and took my headphones off.
Oh they spoke Portuguese Oh they were Brazilian Oh they were beautiful people.
It was like when the main character of a fantasy novel first encounters Elves, the tall beautiful alien kind that have that sort of unobtainable perfection that just makes you vaguely ashamed and elated at the same time.
Portuguese is now my all time favorite language. Fuck French. I've studied French for five years and it is actually fairly okay, I mean, I still like it. The ladies, you know, they love me didn't do shit all. You want to be knee deep in bitches, learn Portuguese. (Knee-deep is a term of volume, not depth. Along the lines of "waist deep", not "balls deep". Keep this in mind when converting to metric, Euro readers.)
Then they left and with them went the oxygen and optimism of the bus. Sure was neat.
Oh, but then a new girl in a stripy shirt got on in Pukalani! Sure, she spent the entire ride looking at her reflection and touching up her lip gloss in the window, but I mean....I do that too. I just plain love mirrors.

[*Footnote! Speaking of viewing people from afar, two more things just sprang to mind!
1. A friend of mine kindly gave me this law, which is now my personal motto: Gregory Benford's Law of Controversy: Passion is inversely proportional to the amount of real information available. Isn't that just the shit truth?
2. What do I love the most in this world I will give you three guesses it is MYSELF I love myself. Which means that in my current situation I find myself loving the private investigator character on House more and more.