You Know You Are an Internet Addict When
You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading.
You step out of your room and realize that your parents have moved and
you don't have a clue as to when it happened.
Your bookmark takes 15 minutes to go from top to bottom.
Your nightmares are in HTML and GIFS.
You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just
pulled the plug on a loved one.
You start introducing yourself as "Jim at net dot com"
Your heart races faster and beats irregularly each time you see a new
WWW site address on TV.
You turn on your intercom when leaving the room so you can hear if new
e-mail arrives.
Your wife drapes a blond wig over your monitor to remind you of what she
looks like.
All of your friends have an @ in their names.
When looking at a web page full of someone else's links, you notice all
of them are already highlighted in purple.
Your dog has its own home page.
You can't call your mother . . . She doesn't have a modem.
You check your mail. It says "no new messages." So you check it again.
Your phone bill is a heavy as a brick.
You write your homework in HTML and give your instructor the URL.
You don't know the gender of three of your closest friends, because they
have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask.
Your husband tells you that he has had the beard for 2 months.
You wake up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and stop and check your
e-mail on the way back to bed.
You tell the kids they can't use the computer because "Daddy's got work
to do" -- even though you don't have a job.
You buy a Captain Kirk chair with a built-in keyboard and mouse.
Your wife makes a new rule: "The computer cannot come to bed."
You get a tattoo that says "This body best viewed with Netscape 3.0 or
higher."
You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your ISP. . .
because you never log off.
You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front
of your computer with a toilet.
Your wife says communication is important in a marriage. . . so you buy
another computer and install a second phone line so the two of you can
chat.
As your car crashes through the guardrail on a mountain road, your first
instinct is to search for the "back" button.
Email: aaronsteinmetz@yahoo.com
