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YOU KNOW YOU ARE ADDICTED TO THE INTERNET WHEN...
You actually wore a blue ribbon to protest the Communications Decency Act.
You kiss your girlfriend's home page.
Your bookmark takes 15 minutes to scroll from top to bottom.
Your eyeglasses have a web site burned in on them.
You find yourself brainstorming for new subjects to search.
You refuse to go to a vacation spot with no electricity and no phone lines.
You finally do take that vacation, but only after buying a cellular modem and a laptop.
You spend half of the plane trip with your laptop on your lap...and your child in the overhead compartment.
All your daydreaming is preoccupied with getting a faster connection to the net: 28.8...ISDN...cable modem...T1...T3.
And even your night dreams are in HTML.
You find yourself typing "com" after every period when using a word processor.com
You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like you just pulled the plug on a loved one.
You refer to going to the bathroom as downloading.
You start introducing yourself as "Jim at I-I-Net dot net dot."
Your heart races faster and beats irregularly each time you see a new WWW site address in print or on TV, even though you've never had heart problems before.
You step out of your room and realize that your parents have moved and you don't have a clue when it happened.
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 pageful of someone else's links, you notice all of them are already highlighted in purple.
Your dog has its own home page.
You've already visited all the links at Yahoo and you're halfway through Lycos.
You can't call your mother...she doesn't have a modem.
You realize there is not a sound in the house and you have no idea where your children are.
You believe nothing looks sexier than a man in boxer shorts illuminated only by a 17" inch svga monitor.
You check your mail. It says "no new messages." So you check it again.
You refer to your age as 3.x.
You have comandeered your teenager's phone line for the net and even his friends know not to call on his line anymore.
Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box.
Even though you died last week, you've managed to retain OPS on your favorite IRC channel.
You code your homework in HTML and give your instructor the URL.
You don't know what sex over three of your closest friends are, because they have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to ask.
You name your children Eudora, Mozilla and Dotcom.
You laugh at people with 2400 baud modems.
Your husband tells you he's had the beard for 2 months.
You miss more than five meals a week downloading the latest games from Apogee.
You start looking for hot HTML addresses in public restrooms.
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 move into a new house and decide to Netscape before you landscape.
You tell the cab driver you live at http://123.elm.street/house/bluetrim.html
You actually try that 123.elm.street address.
Your virtual girlfriend finds a new net sweetheart with a larger bandwidth.
You tell the kids they can't use the computer because "Daddy's got work to do" and you don't even have a job.
Your friends no longer send you e-mail...they just log on to your IRC channel.
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 are so familiar with the WWW that you find the search engines useless.
You get a tatoo that says "This body best viewed with Netscape 1.1 or higher."
You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your ISP...because you never log off.
The last girl you picked up was only a jpeg.
You put a pillow case over your laptop so your lover doesn't see it while you are pretending to catch your breath.
You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in front of your computer with a toilet.
You forget what year it is.
You start tilting your head sideways to smile.
You ask your doctor to implant a gig in your brain.
You leave the modem speaker on after connecting because you think it sounds like the ocean wind...the perfect soundtrack for "surfing the net".
You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is allowed to call 200 hours per month "unlimited."
You turn on your computer and turn off your wife.
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.
The remote to the T.V. is missing...and you don't even care.
The last time you looked at the clock it was 11:30pm, and in what seems like only a few seconds later, your sister runs past you to catch her 7am school bus.
You create a homepage with the impression to cure the afflicted...but your hidden agenda is to receive more e-mail.
Your hard drive crashes. You haven't logged on in two hours. You start to twitch. You pick up the phone and manually dial your ISPs access number. You try to humm to communicate with it. You succeed.
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